#I feel like I hope for something like every series & inevitably get let down but maybe I'll be right this time

[helenofblackthorns]

manifesting the Blackthorns have the nastiest, most nauseatingly angsty epic train wreck of a fight in TWP. perhaps in the second book or whenever they all find out about Livvy. like it's awful and you can't look away as they're all at their worst with the people they love the most, who they would do and have done anything for. it's the bloodiest fight any of them have ever been in and there wasn't even any weapons involved, just words they didn't mean and cannot take back. like they all care so much about one another but things have changed and none of them cope with it at all so instead it all just. blows up. like Ty only ever wanted to keep everyone together and go back to how things were, but instead he's the one who inadvertently fractures them; the unavoidabe fate of Blackthorns siblings.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Casual Sweetness

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: slight mentions of handsy strangers at a bar (nothing graphic); so much comfort

Author’s note: I don’t know where this came from. I started writing it, then finished it and now it’s existing and I’m putting it out there.

Masterlist

Never once has a night out with your girls left you this unsatisfied. Or, shaken, really. Every pre-planned rendezvous or spontaneous meet-up at a local bar with Wanda and Nat had always been a reliable escape from the daily grind.

You three like to cozy up at home, preferably at Wanda’s, and binge-watch a worthy series. And while that held its certain appeal, every once in a while you would find yourselves dancing and drinking, surrounded by people who wouldn’t remember enough of you, if the amount of liquor drove you to making decisions that sober you wouldn’t have even thought of. It has always provided an outlet for stress and helped you recharge.

Not tonight though. The strangers in the new bar you girls tried out tonight were far too handsy, your head started pounding uncomfortably even before taking the first sip and thinking about the bartender only makes dread pooling in your gut.

You also weren’t able to distract your mind, or rather your heart.

Usually, you would think about getting an Uber to meet up with your friends but Bucky always insisted on driving you when he wasn’t busy. But really, he never seemed to be, anyway. Not when it meant you would have to leave the apartment on your own. Nothing had his priority other than chauffeuring you around. You never asked him to do that, he just had a habit of insisting and there was nothing you could do. He had told you as much.

And tonight was no exception. He had sprung up from the couch, movie already paused, and keys in hand when you had emerged from the bathroom and practically ushered you into his car to drive you to the bar you girls had agreed on meeting at.

“Just don’t like the idea of you sitting in the backseat of some car, looking all pretty and dressed up with some guy in the front, thinking god knows what. Not taking any chances, doll, let me drive you.”

You always roll your eyes and scoff at his exaggerated concern, reminding him that it was said guy’s job to drive you to your wanted destination. You usually ignore the rest of his words. A simple shirt and jeans would hardly qualify as ‘dressed up’ for you and the idea of you being ‘pretty’ was something you would usually laugh at.

But it was hard to laugh at that when it came out of Bucky’s mouth. Your roommate. Your friend. Maybe even your best friend. But that’s where it stopped because nothing more ever happened. And you doubted it would.

So you let his words slide and let them wash over you because if you would address them, you would start thinking. And think, you do not want to. Because thinking only leads to foolish hope. A hopeless belief, that perhaps Bucky feels what you feel and suppresses it the same way you are. A ridiculous belief that he has the same overwhelming feelings about a friend that goes way beyond what friends normally feel for each other.

So you never let yourself think too hard, shoving those feelings into a box at the very back of your mind and swallowing down the key with the hard liquor when you went out for some drinks. It always burns on its way down. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s that lingering ache. It really is not clear to you, but it does offer you a sense of reprieve, if only temporarily.

With every hungover the next day, follows the inevitable onslaught of that knot inside your chest and that rusty key resurfaces, reopening the box and unleashing a fresh wave of longing.

It only worsens in the way he would take care of you.

Every glass of water, each soft touch, each softly whispered inquiry is a gentle prod to the already gaping wound that was caused by the feelings of unrequited love.

The pancakes he would bring to your bed - because you were too grumpy to leave it - never satisfies the nourishment your soul craves. The pain relievers he would put on your nightstand, already there when you’d get back, would only serve as a cruel reminder that nothing could relieve the ache inside your chest.

With every “You feeling better, doll?” and “There anything else I can do for you, sweetheart?” the ache deepens, spreading like wildfire through your veins, reaching your bones and searing through them like branding irons with the intention to leave marks that you believe to be permanent.

The hangover eventually leaves your body, but your heart festered.

However, the ache is not always the dominant emotion in Bucky’s presence. It isn’t always the first thing you acknowledge. First and foremost, being in Bucky’s proximity elicits a profound sense of comfort and warmth.

It let the butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably with every belly laugh he let out unabashedly, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, crinkles forming at their corners.

Your heart does unwanted flips at every pet name Bucky lets casually slip passed his lips, seeming so nonchalant about calling you ‘doll’ and ‘sweetheart’ but to you it means everything.

Every tender gesture leaves you breathless. You had been living with him for nearly a year now and you had come to acknowledge how sharing a space with him had become a delicate balancing act between euphoria and agony.

Bucky would bring you a hot water bottle at times when your cramps got too bad, or simply when you experienced menstrual discomfort, trying to soothe you with sweets he extra went out for.

He would jokingly chastise you to fold your clothes before storing them in the closet to prevent them from wrinkling and tease you when you didn’t. But it always ended with him taking matters into his own hands and carefully folding your clothes while you watched him from your bed, making fun of him when he turned red attending to your undergarments, despite trying to remain indifferent.

He would cook with and for you, make you coffee in the mornings, distract you with terrible jokes when you had a bad day, and leave you to it when all you needed was some me-time, only checking in when he needed to be sure you were okay.

His casual sweetness was a constant assault on your composure.

But right now, as you klick the door to your shared apartment shut and slip out of your shoes with a heavy sigh, it is all you can think of. His gentle touch, the sparkling blue of his eyes, the cheerfulness of his smile that makes your insides do somersaults.

It is still early. Earlier than you had ever been home after a night out and you’re sure Bucky is still awake. The lights in the living room are out which means he is in his room, perhaps engrossed in his laptop, reading a book, or idly scrolling through his phone.

Yet, you hesitate, staying rooted to the spot in the hallway. It was nothing unusual for you to knock on Bucky’s door, sometimes simply barging in if you felt particularly bold or just wanted to annoy him. But you had never sought him out before simply because you needed him. Needed his comfort, his reassuring whispers, the warmth that radiates off him and seeps into your skin.

So to buy some time, you retreat to the bathroom; emptying the contents of your bladder, splashing water on your face, and brushing your teeth.

There is only so much time you can stall, and soon enough you find yourself standing in front of Bucky’s bedroom door, clothes discarded and changed for more comfortable sleepwear. There is no noise filtering through the wall of his room but the soft glow seeping beneath the door offers a glimmer of hope.

You try to soothe the shakiness of your hands and rub them along the fabric of your shirt before lifting one hand to knock on his door. The sound is softer than intended, but Bucky’s gentle ‘come in’ was immediate.

Opening the door slowly you find him leaning against the headboard of his bed, dark sheets loosely draped around his waist. His grey shirt makes him look cozy and in his lap lay a book. One you had recommended him to read.

Your body reacts in an instant, shoulders dropping ever so slightly and a breath leaves your lips at the comfort he already provides.

“You’re back early,” he starts when you keep standing at the door unmoving, “didn’t expect you home til’ midnight at least.”

The familiar cadence of his tone provides you the sense of stability you had needed to let go of his doorknob, however, the teasing in his voice wasn’t lost on you. He seems to have expected you to tumble through the door at an ungodly hour, dropping in your bed and waking the next morning with a hangover worse than the last time.

You assume the bottle of water and the painkillers already found their place on your nightstand.

A huffed laugh leaves your lips but your expression remains unchanged as you shift awkwardly in his doorway. “Uh, yeah, we decided to leave earlier. Weren’t really feeling it, I guess.” You shrug, attempting to sound nonchalant, but Bucky’s brow begins to furrow softly and he shuts his book, placing it on his nightstand without taking his eyes off you.

“You alright, doll?” His voice was devoid of the teasing tone he had held moments before, “did something happen?” His eyes are intense, scanning your face and you break eye contact, letting your gaze wander across his room as if you see it for the first time.

You take a deep breath, hands twisting nervously and your heart picks up in pace. “I, uhm…It’s-” You stumble over your words, a shaky breath escaping your mouth instead of a coherent answer.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bucky shift on his bed, straightening as if preparing to come closer to you but your next words halt him in his movements.

“Can I maybe stay with you? Tonight?”

It comes out more pleading and quieter than wanted but you don’t care about that right now. Not with the way Bucky looks at you. He is halfway out of the bed already, sheets thrown back onto the mattress but he still doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Course you can stay, doll! Of course you can.”

Bucky’s voice holds a reassuring firmness, while he still talks softly. Your teeth clamp down on your lower lip, watching him cross the room to you and placing his hands gently on your upper arms to take a better look at you. His eyes move between yours, brows deepening, concern etching itself into every line of his face.

“You wanna tell me what happened? Somebody make you uncomfortable?” There is something in his tone you can’t concentrate on, only shaking your head at his questions.

“I don’t- Can we not-” Your words were cut short by the gentle touch of Bucky’s hand on your face. His thumb begins to steadily swipe over your cheekbones so tenderly, a shiver rushes down your spine. He had never touched you like this before and you are trying your very best not to let your eyes droop and melt into him.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, doll, I just-” So many emotions are swirling in the depth of his blues, his worry still the most outstanding. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he whispers. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”

His thumb doesn’t ease the motions over your skin and it is that you realize your hands stopped shaking and your heartbeat fell back in place without conscious effort. He has done so much for you already, without knowing it.

A deep, audible sigh escapes your lips and you offer him your first genuine smile of the night. “Just wanna stay here with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked onto his and if the world stopped moving for a second you would be none the wiser.

The comforting circles of his thumb paused and you feel that damned rusty key turning in the deadbolt of the lock to the box of your feelings, opening them with a screech and letting the contents spill out, open for him to see. And there comes the hope again. The belief that the depths of his eyes reflect the very same emotions you have plastered on your face.

But how can you not believe it when his expression holds something that looks to you a lot like love. A love, an affection, that, as you’ve established goes way beyond friendship.

Warm lips brush against your forehead and you let your eyes close for a second, savoring the feel of them. Gentle hands guide you towards his bed and you move like putty, allowing yourself to be enveloped in the soft sheets, full of his scent.

Bucky crawls in beside you, laying his body to face yours and you can’t help but study the way the soft glow of the moon that seeps through the curtains, reflect on the planes of his face, after he shut off the little lamp on his bedside table.

“Thank you, Bucky!” you whisper, the sound almost getting lost in the sheets, but he hears you, a soft smile forming on his lips, the moon allowing you to see it.

“Not for this, sweetheart. Never for this,” he whispers back and you let your eyes fall shut with a content sigh.

Right before sleep can claim you, you feel the comforting weight of his hand, covering your own over the sheets and silently linking with your fingers.

“I’ve found a natural drug for all of my panic, anxiety, and anger. It’s his voice. It’s him.”

- J.R. Rogue

[with-my-calamitous-love]

trying to put it into words / shining just for you

osamu dazai x reader

thoughts about helping dazai change his bandages. for the yail series 🫧

inspired by mirrorball

he always running back home to you.

well, not always running. most of the time, he’s in a cab after a night drinking alone. or, he’s walking through the dimly lit streets of yokohama, something he can do as a man. simply put, he’s always returning to you.

he only gets an hour or two of sunshine each day. but its fine by him, if it means he stays handcuffed to you. he adores that smile, and wonders why you go to such great lengths to even catch a glimpse of it- a genuine one, at that.

he’s used to the perfomances, to calling you his pretty baby and giving you kisses on the forehead. he’s used to wrapping his arms around your waist while you cook, whispering some filthy thing about double suicide while complimenting you’re new perfume. he smiles, jokes, and acts for the masquerade revellers around him. he’ll get you out on the floor, shimmering beautiful, all to hide the pain that resides beneath the surface.

and sometimes, you’ll watch even as his shattered, bloodied edges glisten. he’s smart, and calculated, and a good man- at least, thats what he wants people to think. when he breaks, its in a million pieces.

however, late on a hush night, when no one is around, you can catch a glimpse of his vulnerability.

“what happened to you!?” you scold, heaving him into the apartment. he can walk fine, but you need him in your arms to know he’s alive. blood stains your clothes and your floor, but mostly his wrists, soaking into the white gauze that covers his arms.

“i have a lot of enemies, bella.” he chuckles, hoping you didn’t see the way his eyes wince in pain when you examine his injuries closer. he’s either hazy from blood loss, or lightheaded from seeing you so worried. maybe both.

he’s hoping to avoid the inevitable. you’ll have to replace his bandages.

but he’s in too much pain to complain.

“samu.” you whisper, catching his attention. normally, he’d answer with a ‘yes, beautiful?’ or something flirty along those lines. but right now, he’s wounded, coming to you only half his weight.

you place a hand in his cheek. yes, the blood is bad. but the sadness in his eyes, the pure defeat, is so much worse.

“i’ll take care of you.” you say as you slowly begin to unravel the fabric.

he takes a deep breath, feeling the bloodied gauze peeling off from his skin. you’re about to see the labour, the locks and the pain he tries to keep hidden. he just wants to make you happy. and he worries this’ll do the opposite.

examining the injuries on his arm, you surmise a few stitches will do. but the multiple scars, faded with time and littering his skin, isn’t lost on you.

you tilt your head, lips quivering as you look at him. his eyes are looking downwards, head tilted avoiding your gaze. he’s trying to control his heartbeat like could do so easily in other intense situations. his hand squeezes yours tighter every passing minute.

he’s scared.

he ignores the sting of water and soap when you wash away the blood. he feels like the end is near, but he’s still on his tiptoes just wanting to shine for you and for everyone. he doesn’t want to be vulnerable. whether its a demon prodigy or a changed, good man, he’s afraid of being hurt.

but your touch calls of the circus and burns the disco down, gently handling his injury as you stitch it up. even when he’s still on that tightrope, still doing everything to keep you laughing at him, you stay. you stay for the charades and help him find himself afterwards.

he isn’t used to this.

but he won’t reject it.

dazai blinks staring at his injury, now tended too. he’ll have to let yosano check it in the morning, but for now, its enough.

he opens his mouth to make a joke about his near death experience. anything to avoid emotions, anything to keep you looking at him. he’s never been a natural. he just wants to try, try, and try.

but for once, he doesn’t feel like he needs to stay on that trapeze. with you, he can step down, and take a break from the show.

“thank you.” he whispers, hugging you with his good arm. “you saved my life.”

he makes sure to bury his face in your shoulder so you can’t see the pain, that true pain, etched on his face.

the calculations in his brain, the puzzles that told him vulnerability hurts you, didn’t add up to this. he showed you his weakness behind the circus show, and he was met with something else.

love. he concludes, feeling your arms hug him back.

“you scared me.” you sigh, kissing his cheek. “don’t do that again.”

he chuckles, and smiles. “no promises, belladonna.”

[albertasunrise]

Work Wife - Two

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)

Series Masterlist - One

After two days of you being frosty towards Joel and Joel desperately trying to make up for whatever he had done to upset you, you decided that it was pointless to be upset with him. He hadn't known your reasoning for going to his house so the fact he had a girl there wasn't really a valid reason to be angry at him.

If you were being honest you were more angry at yourself. Your pride had been wounded and that was something that you needed to work through on your own. So by Wednesday, you were somewhat back to being smiley and sweet but there was still a tension there that you knew would take time to dissipate. You just hoped that your date with Simon would take your mind off what had happened.

Your second date with Simon went even better than the first. He was sweet, taking you to a restaurant he remembered you mentioning you loved, and after, he took you for a few drinks at a new gin bar that had opened up. So inevitably, two dates turned into three.

It felt like with each interaction you shared with Simon, the less seeing Joel every day, and knowing that he didn't return your feelings, hurt you. What you didn't realise was that your budding new relationship with Simon was tearing Joel apart. Simon couldn't help but gush to the other contractors about how special you were or how amazingly things were going.

How he was starting to think that you might be the one.

That statement made Joel want to find a remote canyon so that he could lob Simon into it. Yet he knew he had no right to feel jealous. It's not like he'd ever had the guts to go for it. It was his own fault that he was suffering now. Yet that didn't make him hate Simon any less. What he hated more was you talking to him about the dates that his 'so-called' friend was taking you on.

It was killing him.

"Oh Joel, you would have loved the walk Simon and I went on over the weekend." You gushed as you sipped at your coffee "I would show you some pictures but I'm still waiting for them to come back from the developers so…"

"That's fine." Joel replied, trying to keep his tone from sounding as pained as he felt.

"Perhaps you could take Eliza there sometime." You continued, completely oblivious to his torment "It's so romantic and-"

"Eliza and I are just casual." Joel interrupted and you couldn't help but snort.

"Please." You rasped "She's practically living with you now. Fuck buddies don't spend most nights together."

"We're just hanging out."

"And I'm the Queen of England." You rolled your eyes and how oblivious he was to what was going on straight in front of him "If you're just looking for casual then perhaps you need to tell her that."

"I did! I have…" He argued, his hip cocking to one side as he rested his on it.

"Well, perhaps you need to have that conversation with her again because from an outsider's point of view. You and her seem pretty serious."

Joel's stomach twisted at the thought that he was leading Eliza on. She was sweet and he liked her but he wasn't looking to settle down. Not yet.

"Talk to her Joel." you said sweetly as you placed your hand on his "Don't lead her on."

So talk to her he did.

…

Eliza was in the kitchen when he returned that evening. There was already a tense atmosphere hanging over the house as he entered but he didn't have time to ponder why. Not when he needed to get things out in the open.

"Hey." He said gingerly as he stepped into the kitchen and Eliza turned to greet him.

"You're back late." She stated as she placed a plate of food down in front of him before sitting on the chair across from him, her arms crossed.

"Meeting with the wood supplier ran late." He replied and Eliza nodded.

"Eat up." She said, watching him then as he nervously pushed his food around his plate, little appetite when he had an anvil hanging over his head.

"What's the matter with you this evening?"

"I don't think we should do this anymore?" He stated simply, eyes drifting from his plate to Eliza.

"Can I ask why?"

"When we started 'this' up, I told you that I wasn't looking for anything serious and well… it's been brought to my attention that it kinda has and that I need to be honest with you… Make sure I'm not stringing you along."

"And who said that you are?" She demanded and Joel shook his head.

"It doesn't matter… what matters is that I don't want to-"

"Was Pip wasn't it?" Eliza growled "You know she has feelings for you right? Only reason she's seeing shit that's not there."

"Eliza… Pip, doesn't have feelings for me. This is just about us and I-"

"You really are blind aren't you." Eliza cackled and Joel stopped in his tracks.

"Blind to what?"

"Pip is head over heels for you… She told me so herself back when we went for those work drinks and I-"

"She told you that?" Joel interrupted and Eliza huffed before nodding "She told you she was in love with me?"

"Well, her exact words were that she was crazy about you but she knew you didn't feel the same and so she's never told you." Eliza waved off the statement like she wasn't telling Joel everything he'd ever wanted to hear.

Were you crazy about him?

"Look, I told you that I didn't want anything serious either and I still don't." Eliza stated as she shrugged "If this has gotten a little too cosy then we can cool it."

Joel wasn't really sure what to say. The information that you possibly feel the same way for him is running laps around his head.

"Joel?"

"Right… yeah… sorry." He said and he shook his head and returned to reality "Look I still think it's best that we just call it quits." He stated plainly, wincing at the growl it pulled from Eliza.

"Fine." She practically spat at him, getting up abruptly and grabbing her stuff as she went "I'll see myself out."

Joel didn't even get a chance to speak before she was slamming the door behind her. Leaving him to ponder over the events that had just transpired. What should he do?

Should he talk to you about it?

Is that what you had come here to talk to him about all those weeks ago?

It would explain your reaction to Eliza being there.

He knew he couldn't, not, talk to you about this. He needed to know whether or not you still felt something for him, because if you did he wanted to fight for you. For with you, he wanted something real.

…

Months went by before Joel plucked up the courage to talk to you. Each time he decided it was time, he talked himself out of it. Whether it was a story that you or Simon had told him about your latest adventures as the world's most perfect couple or just him watching the two of you together. But, finally, he had decided that enough was enough… He needed to be honest with you and lay his cards out on the table. He had thought long and hard about what it was he wanted to say and so had arranged for the two of you to meet up for a coffee on Saturday. This wasn't a conversation that he wanted to have with you in the office.

He still had to labour through an afternoon of Simon gushing to the guys about how things were going with the two of you and up until now it had been fairly easy to drone it out.

"So you two finally did the deed huh?" Piped up a voice, grabbing Joel's attention.

Joel had known that you and Simon hadn't been intimate yet. You had confided in him about how you had never been with anyone and that you wanted to save yourself for the right guy. Obviously, you had decided that Simon was that guy.

"Fuck did we." Simon practically growled "Was so worth the wait… Girl's so hot… we-"

"Let's not discuss such personal matters at work, hey chaps?" Joel tried to sound calm but his stomach was twisting in knots.

The knowledge that you and Simon had been intimate was tearing him up inside. Had Eliza been wrong about your feelings for him? Had she lied? Either way, he wasn't sure what to do with the knowledge that you and Simon were now sleeping together.

"Come on boss…" Teased Rick, one of Joel's youngest employees "Just 'cus ya jealous."

"What?" Joel growled as he turned to face the younger man.

"Well, the guys all told me how you're sweet on Si's girl. It's not his fault you missed your shot."

Joel felt his anger start to boil over as he said "Keep it professional Rick or you'll be looking for new employment." Walking away then to cool down.

…

You were just clearing the dishes away whilst Simon wiped down the sides, always the gentleman. 8 months had shot by in the blink of an eye and it felt like he'd blended so perfectly into your home life. It was like the two of you had always done this. Things were so seamless.

"So Joel threatened to fire Rick today." He stated as he wiped his hands dry with a dishcloth.

"Really?" You asked and your brows shot up in surprise "Why?"

"We were talking about you and me and Rick kinda ribbed Joel a bit." Simon replied, shrugging.

"Ribbed him how?"

"We were just talking about how you and I had… well you know and Joel got pissed. Rick kinda teased him about how he's sweet on you and how he missed out on his chance with you."

"One, I'd rather you didn't discuss our sex life with my colleagues… Two, Joel's not sweet on me he's with Eliza and three… even if he was, that's a pretty dickish thing to do." You admonished and Simon chuckled as he replied.

"Joel is still very much sweet on you and he and Eliza broke up."

"What?" You were shocked to learn this information and hurt that Joel hadn't told you.

"Yeah, been like 6 or 7 months now… guys probably got blue balls." Simon chuckled as he tossed the dishcloth in his hands onto the counter.

You'd always talked about everything Joel and so to learn that he had broken things off with Eliza and he hadn't talked to you about it stung a little. Had things between you really become that strained? They hadn't been the same since you'd gone to his house to talk to him about how you felt. They certainly hadn't been since you had started dating Simon.

"You're not sweet on him are you?" Asked Simon, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Hmm?" You hummed as you looked at your boyfriend who was watching you closely, analysing every expression that crossed your face.

"Joel, you aren't sweet on him too are you?"

The colour drained from your face as your mouth moved to answer him but no words left your lips. The longer you took to respond, the more frustrated Simon grew.

"You are, aren't you?"

"Simon…"

"No, don't try and spin me any bullshit." He growled out and you flinched at his tone "Are you in love with Joel… Yes or no?"

"Yes… but-"

"I need to leave." Simon choked as he threw his hands up when you tried to reach for him "I can't be around you right now."

"Simon please…" You pleaded but he was having none of it.

He just grabbed his stuff and left.

Leaving you sobbing in his wake. \

…

You sat in the cafe you and Joel had arranged to meet at, your eyes red raw from crying all night and most of this morning. You were sipping on an overly sweet latte. Needing the sugar to try and boost your mood. Joel was already ten minutes late but that wasn't unusual for them man. No doubt he'd be stumbling through the cafe doors in a few moments, huffing and puffing whilst he rambled on about what it was that had delayed him.

Only after half an hour… he still wasn't there.

You were on your second sugary coffee and coming to the painful realisation that Joel had stood you up. Who gets stood up by their best friend? Well, it would seem that you do and you wondered if it was because of what Simon had told you yesterday. How Rick had teased Joel about missing out with you when he'd learned you'd lost your virginity to the man you'd been going steady with for almost 9 months. That thought made you go from sad to plain pissed.

Was he seriously going to stand you up because he was jealous that you had slept with Simon?

Finishing your coffee you stomped out the door and towards your car. You weren't going to let him get away with this. Not after everything you had been through in the last 12 hours.

You don't recall the drive to Joel's house but you feel your anger flare when you see his truck on his drive. You pull up behind him, get out of the car, then make a point of slamming the door in the hope that he'll hear you coming.

You were pounding on the door, not caring if you were attracting attention. You wanted answers and you wanted them now. An exhausted Joel opened the door and you felt anger flare at the thought that he'd stood you up because he'd slept it.

"Pip this isn't-"

"A good time?" You growled, "It never is Joel."

"Please, I'm sorry I stood you up but-"

"No, I'm going to speak." Venom dropped from your words as you poked his chest "Simon told me what happened yesterday and I just can't believe that you would stand me up because I slept with the man I had been dating for over half a year!"

"That's not… I didn't stand you up on purpose I-"

"You what? You overslept? Your latest conquest only just left?" You barged past him with a strength you didn't know you possessed as you started to look around the house.

"Pip-"

"Where is she… where is the reason you decided to stand me up the morning after Simon broke up with me." You choked as your hurt started to slip through the cracks.

"Simon dumped you?" Joel asked and you nodded "Why?"

"Because I'm in love with you Joel… and I-"

"Do you want to scream any louder?" Growled Joel's mother as she walked down the stairs with a bundle in her arms "You're lucky she's so milk drunk. Not even the apocalypse would wake her right now." She said as she handed Joel what you could now see was a newborn with a gorgeous caramel complexion.

"Oh, Pip sweetheart, so lovely to see you." Said Mrs Miller as she pulled your stunned body into an awkward hug "It's been a bit of a mad house for the past 12 hours." She chuckled as she walked over to Joel to give him a kiss on the cheek before pecking the baby's brow. "I'll let Joel catch you up, I need to get diapers and formula. Will be as quick as I can sweetheart."

"Thanks, Mum." He said, smiling at her as she waved at you all and left.

Finally leaving you and Joel alone with this tiny baby you had just learned about.

"You… You have a baby." It wasn't a question.

Joel nodded as he looked down at the tiny person in his arms, a sweet smile gracing his lips as he brought her brow to his lips.

"I have a baby." He confirmed and you let out a shaky breath as you continued to stare at her.

"Is she…?"

"Eliza's?" He finished for you and you nodded "Yeah." He replied as he walked towards his couch and carefully sat himself down, watching as you followed him and sat down beside him "She came by last night. Dumped her in my arms and said she was mine and that she wanted nothing to do with being a mother."

Your eyes snapped to his at this statement and found him looking at you with a tearful expression "Left me enough formula to last me till tonight. No cot, clothes, nothing."

"How could she just leave her?" You sobbed as you looked at the perfect little girl in his arms and Joel just shook his head.

"She said she didn't want to be a mum." He replied "After we broke up she moved back to Austin. Had no idea she was pregnant. Not even Gloria did… then last night she just turned up at my door with her."

"Oh, Joel."

"I'm not ready to be a dad am I?" He asked as he looked at you again, his expression indicating just how scared he was.

"You're going to be the best father to this little girl." You said as you cupped his cheek and moved his face so that he looked you in the eye "You aren't going to be alone in this." You promised him "I will be here whenever you need me to be… day or night I will be here."

Joel nodded. Knocking a few tears loose and you watched as they rolled down his slightly stubbled cheek.

"Thank you, Pip." He breathed, giving you a small smile before he looked down at his little girl again "Her name's Sarah." He said after a short pause and you smiled sweetly at her.

"Hi, Sarah." You said softly as you leaned in to look at her better "Well aren't you just perfect."

"Would you like to hold her?" He asked and you nodded eagerly before carefully taking her off of him and settling into the plush cushions at your back.

You gazed at her sleeping form for what felt like an age. Her perfect little button nose and long black lashes making you swooning.

"I'll let you off." You piped up after a while and Joel hummed he as looked at you in confusion "For standing me up… She's a pretty good excuse."

Joel chuckled as he rested his head on your shoulder, you both continuing to gaze at her.

"We'll get through this…" He said and you nodded.

"Together."

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

[ellabsweet]

[ੈ✩] 𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 • 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐒

synopsis: in which ellie is your voyeour.

pairing: rockstar!ellie x reader x rockstar!abby

warning: obviously modern au, mentions of sex with afab!reader so minors and men do not interact, multiple part series

authors note: this is just filfthy i’m sorry next one has more actual backstory and way more writing i promise you

← previous part | next part →

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇?

Abby dips her fingers between your thighs, separating your folds with ease before delving into you with little preparation, the curse that leaves your mouth alone making her moan out loud.

“Fuck, you’re so wet” She says and it echoes to you like a taunt, cheeks hot with embarassment you hoped she did not see, too enthralled in the feeling of her hand latching on your cunt, with your whimpers and own drunkenness the blonde gets cocky “Is this how Ellie makes you feel too? You get this fucking drenched for her? Or am I special?”

“Abby” You croak out and she looks at you, blue eyes darkened in a way you haven’t seen before and you are suddenly enveloped by her scent, the tangerine of her perfume mixed with dance sweat and expensive alcohol whatever remnants of sense you had being intoxicated out of you before you crashed your lips against hers.

“Tell me I’m your favorite” She whispers into your mouth shoving her fingers deeper, the smirk on her face like an ad for narcissists though it did not fully hide the insecurity of her plead. You nod frantically into her shoulder while she trailed kisses down your neck, the room temperature getting hotter every inch she moved downwards, passerbys pretending not to see.

“You’re my favorite, Abs” You moan tugging the braid from her hair until her cheek is forced to face your thighs, eyes sparkling up at you with insatiable desire, taking in your features under the dim venue lightning as she unzipped your shorts to make way for her face to slip between your legs effortlessly, a slow lick to your still covered pussy like a promise of something more.

Your eyes barely notice Ellie staring from across the backstage, her lips dancing around the rim of a glass beer cup, fixated on every movement your hips did against Abby’s face, her dirty talk drowned out by the intensity of the other’s stare. She was meant to call on Abigal to hurry the fuck up and tune her own damn bass but this was better, a twisted private show happening between you that inevitably had her biting down her lip. You exaggerated your reactions, a proud Abby not quite noticing the difference, but Ellie did, laughing at you, hypnotized.

“You like this, bunny?” Abby coaxed you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, fuck, Abs, I’m gonna-“

“You done fucking the groupie, Abby? We have a damn show to start” Ellie finally spoke up,so many steps closer than she was before to the point you could smell the booze oozing off of her and lightly dripping down her chin. Abby let go of your grasp ever so slowly, settling you with kisses as she pushed further away, an apology at the tip of her tongue about the life of a rockstar. Ellie punches her in the shoulder for that.

Once she’s out of sight, you grab onto Ellie’s arm, who stares at you quizzically as you lean forward on her touch, and lower your hand to her ass, grabbing hold of a pen in her back jean pocket, a tease.

“Give me an autograph?”

She signs your exposed thigh.

taglist: @abbysvictim @lottiematthewsceo @sadeyedsugar @digit4lslut @r0ckgoblin @machetegirl109 @scatapple @elliesgirlll @madelynie @emothurman comment to be added!

[juletheghoul]

Request for another hurt/comfort the General bit (I'm counting the period chapter in that category). 'Greedy' made me think of other potential lovers that the Reader had in the past, maybe another master who had her before Marcus. Except not so much a lover but a slave owner using his property. And maybe this guy has some fancy job and gets invited to an event at the General's estate. And maybe he sees her and makes comments or approaches her in private. I'd love to see Marcus's reaction to something like that!

okay nonny, I see youuuu! Okay so I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but my mind raced and it is what it is - hope you enjoy! 🩷🩷

(thanks @absurdthirst for talking this one out with me!)

Lets get into it:

smut under the cut - 18+ and don't read more if you aren't into exhibitionism (not beta'ed and probably full of errors)

word count; 1.6k (series masterlist)

---

He yawned, despite all of the flesh on display. You, were much more affected.

It had started out like every other gathering, food and soft music, raucous laughter and all manner of delights to draw the eye. Slaves adorned in intricate masks posed on pedestals, their bodies covered in white paint to make them look like living statues. Prominent Gladiators stood sentinel, stock still and oiled to showcase their bodies, breathing weapons, standing at the ready for the pleasure of the distinguished guests filling the halls.

Inevitably, the flesh on display had worked it's magic on the guests, and the lively conversation, had descended into cries of pleasure. The soft music changed from lutes and harps, to the wet, obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh. The liquid squelch of arousal ringing out around you.

It was hard not to think on what it sounded like when your Dominus took you, his lovely sounds in your ear, his cock coated in your desire for him, and it was in you to mount him then and there, but he had not given any indication that he desired this, and so you stood beside him, shifting your weight from foot to foot, ignoring the ache of emptiness between your legs.

Despite his hunger for your body, a thing he indulged in almost daily to your great delight, he was an intensely private person. Anything he did in public, was to send a message, to secure his peace and to remind anyone who showed him disrespect, that he was not someone to be trifled with. For you, there was no difference. Whether he took you here, in front of everyone, or at the villa where you were alone, it made you drip all the same. There was no shame left, only lust.

He was speaking to another, a friendly conversation while your hands fidgeted with your tunic, when you saw a ghost from your past. A former owner, recognition and delight on his face. That Dominus had given you pleasure as well, not nearly as much as your General, and never privately, he liked to be in the middle of it, to be spoiled and shared. He enjoyed the spectacle of excess.

He smiled wide, making his way over to you with one of his girls, and one of his boys in tow, both of them roughly your age.

Marcus saw him approach, and you felt him tense.

"I see you have been blessed by Fortuna, found yourself in the house of General Marcus," He smiled at you, benevolent. "and he has brought you here, much to my delight-" He ran his finger down your arm softly, you felt nothing. "Come, let us move to a private room and indulge as we did-" His words were cut short, when Marcus' hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away and onto his lap.

"I think you have forgotten who she belongs to, I have not given you leave to touch." His hand lands on your thigh, heavy and so welcome where you were draped across his lap. Your hands instantly wrapping themselves around his neck.

"Oh come now Marcus, what is it to share amongst friends-"

"We are not friends." He places a kiss at your throat, his voice like ice despite the petal soft feel of his lips on your skin, "and I do not share."

Your heart raced, and you couldn't help but giggle softly, this was what you wanted, for him to claim you in front of all.

The other man let out a huff, half laughing, half disbelieving.

"They are but slaves, why bring one as lovely as her if not to tempt, I offer mine to you freely, in the spirit of good will." He thrusts his girl forward, the boy too, both of them staring at the way Marcus pulls your tunic to the side to kiss your shoulders, their gaze devouring the path of his big hand sliding under your tunic to caress the wet slit between your legs. His mouth pulls away, but his fingers glide between the lips of your sex slowly, slipping over your clit in soft, wet strokes.

"What I do with what's mine, concerns me, and me alone." He turns to watch your face, how your mouth hangs open, how your breath catches with every delicious swirl, "What say you, girl, should I share you?" He punctuates his words by sliding two thick fingers inside you as deep as they can go and you moan, wantonly.

"No Dominus, please no, just you." You press forward, pressing your lips to his despite not being given leave to have his mouth and he laughs into the kiss, pulling away after a moment and you whimper when he takes his fingers out. He rubs them against your lips like a rich Roman woman would with the juice of a pomegranate, before sliding them into your mouth.

"You may leave us." He speaks to the man, keeping his lust blown eyes on the way you hollow your cheeks around his fingers.

Once the man walks away, tail tucked between his legs, you shift, feeling him hard and heavy underneath you.

"Shall we return to the Villa? Or would you like me to take you here and now?" His lips bite at your ear and your heart races to have him offer this to you, control, choice, luxuries that you have not been afforded in this life. It is such a vast difference from the life you led up until you came to be in his service. Servitude is servitude, that will never change, but you've never wanted anyone as much as you want him, you sometimes think that what you feel for him, might be more akin to obsession, something dark and all encompassing.

You bite your lip, smiling conspiratorially in the strong cage of his arms.

"I would have you take me here and now Dominus, I would have you show them who I belong to." You speak into his ear, sucking a mark into his neck, he rewards you with a deep groan and a heavy palm on your ass.

"Stand." His voice is commanding, and makes your nipples hard as pebbles. "I will take you from behind, so everyone can see how well you take my cock." He whispers it in your ear, turning you so you lean against the lectus, he hands another blow, a loud crack on your backside that makes you jump.

Gooseflesh spreads across your skin as you feel him lift your tunic, rolling it in on itself at your waist so it doesn't fall, and within a heartbeat you feel the blunt tip of him prodding at your seam. His hand slides around, and he puts it to your mouth, palm up.

"Spit." He commands, and you obey. It's filthy, and your heart beats like a hummingbird in your cunt at his tone. Eyes find you, of slaves and owners alike and they smile, enjoying the show and you smile back, the arousal like the teeth of some great wolf around your neck.

His first thrust was like a punch, and your body bent forward, your face pressing to the silky fabric of the lectus both in relief, and on fire.

"No, no girl, you will stay up, and see how they watch you take my cock." He lifted you up, pressing his hand to your throat to keep you upright.

"Yes Dominus." You replied, eyes half lidded in pleasure as he pulled himself out and thrust back in. He was harder than you'd ever felt him, hot and heavy inside and you couldn't do anything but stand there, on the tips of your toes and take what he gave. His breath came out in pants in your ear, his thrusts hard enough to make your breasts bounce, the hardened tips of them tickled by the fabric of your tunic.

Eyes of other slaves watched, and a wave of slick seeped out to find them almost covetous of the pleasure your Dominus so freely gave you, of the way his hand slipped around once more to find your neglected little clit, to pinch it between wet, spit-soaked fingers and pull your world apart. The sharp, starburst of pleasure spreading like a tidal wave throughout the network of your veins and he laughed in your ear.

"Already? just a little pinch and you gush all over me, girl?" He sped up, drawing out the pleasure until you all but wept, his cock kissing something divine inside you. "You like them watching you take it, you like it when I claim you for all to see, you like being mine don't you, girl?" His pace stuttered, affected by his own words and you turned your face to meet him in a misaligned kiss, whispering into his mouth that yes, yes you did, holding one hand on his at your throat, while bringing the other to hold the weight of your breast.

"I want your gift Dominus, please, may I have it? Please?" You begged him, relishing the way he couldn't contain himself, pushing himself deep enough to hit your womb, pleasure and pain mingling together as he ground himself almost too deep and painting your insides with his spend.

"It's yours-" His whisper was gravel in your ear, softer words following and for a moment you can almost convince yourself you’d heard him say I'm yours but you ignore it, your imagination and your arousal running rampant. Instead you wait until he pulls himself out, and turn in his arms ignoring the eyes that follow you and wrap your arms around his neck. You claim a kiss, licking into his mouth with an authority unavailable to you in any other aspect of your life. His seed leaks out of you, dripping onto your inner thighs as he pulls you close, letting you take your fill.

"Can you take me home Dominus?" You press kisses to his throat, running your tongue across where you feel his heart beating there, "I desire for you to take me again." He shudders softly and never in your life, have you ever felt more powerful.

He nods and you smile.

-

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[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name. 

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present. 

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow. 

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows. 

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again. 

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her. 

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him. 

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him. 

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her. 

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!” 

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it. 

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women. 

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep. 

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls. 

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off. 

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

[lillaydee]

A New Life

Jackson! Joel Miller / OFC

Starting a new life with each other in Jackson seemed to be going well, until it didn't.

Word Count: 15,272

Just one more story that I am uploading for practice purposes - I have many, many completed stories to upload, but am not that used to Tumblr yet, so it will take time to upload all of them - I'm not sure I will actually upload all of them, even. Right now, I'm just uploading the shorter ones for practice - just until I get used to the site. I will continue uploading the two series I have started uploading every other day - using those to practice scheduling stuff on Tumblr.

This fic also contains the very first smut I've ever written. I'm notoriously bad at it - I blush when I type smut out, so I apologize in advance if the smut is not smutting.

Thank you for those who have chosen to read my little mind worms. I appreciate you so much - there are no words.

WARNINGS: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Communication Failure, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Angst, Fluff, Non-Smutting Smut, Happy Ending.

They decided to tell Ellie the truth. To say she was infuriated was an understatement, remaining silent throughout the journey back to Jackson. When they walked into the now familiar house. Ellie ran straight upstairs, the aggressive slamming of the door rattling the house, maybe for real, or maybe Joel and Madeleine were too in their heads when it came to the teenager’s wrath at them. Maybe they even deserved it. The two looked at each other, resigned to the teenager’s inevitable mood for the foreseeable future.

“You want to take the master?” Joel asked.

“No, I’ll take the room down here”, Maddie replied.

With that, Joel and Maddie went their separate ways to their respective rooms, closing the doors behind them.

Maddie was bone tired. Funny how the fatigue just set in when your body realized you had finally arrived, safe and sound. She didn’t even bother showering before throwing herself onto the dusty bed. Fuck it, she thought. She slept in the dirt for months. A night or two on a dusty bed wouldn’t hurt her. It seemed Joel and Ellie had the same idea, no sounds of plumbing or running water to be heard. It was sundown, but they could all use the rest. Who cared if they slept for 12 hours? After what they had just been through, they deserved it.

But try as she might, Maddie couldn’t sleep. The room felt suffocating. After almost a year of sleeping out in the open, this felt claustrophobic. Like she was sleeping in a room-sized coffin, but a coffin, nonetheless. She also had gotten used to having Joel and Ellie next to her when sleeping. Now that she was alone, it just felt unsafe, despite the obvious opposite. She tossed and turned, trying to calm her mind enough for sleep to take hold, but her mind kept replaying what happened over the last few days.

How the whole thing didn’t make sense to her, even on the surface. The dilapidated hospital, the lack of staff and resources, the ambitious nature of it all despite the lack of proper procedure and expertise. How could one doctor and two nurses create a cure in these conditions? So, when the doctor confirmed her biggest fear, she reacted. And it seemed Joel found out too, considering he mowed through the entire hospital to get to them. By the time they got out of there, the only people left alive were the three medical professionals, locked in the threadbare operating theatre.

But Ellie couldn’t see it from their point of view, going on and on about how her life was now without purpose, how she could’ve died for something meaningful, how they took that choice away from her. Maddie and Joel kept quiet. They let her say her peace and hoped that one day she would understand how important she had become to them both.

A glance at the clock showed it was nearing midnight. This was getting ridiculous now. Her body was protesting its own indecisiveness. So tired, but too restless and her head too full to sleep. Deciding that rest was vital before she lost her mind, she picked up her pillow and blanket, and went into the living room. Maybe a bigger space will help her breathe easier, and hopefully sleep would claim her. Laying the blanket on the floor, she laid down, looking around the room in the dark. This would be home from now on. She just needed a few days to get used to it, she was sure of it.

Not that time ever made her feel like any place was home anyway. She had spent close to 15 years at the QZ working as a nurse at the FEDRA hospital. But she had never felt at home there, and the fact that she had never agreed with their policies didn’t help. She helped Tess and Joel whenever she could, getting them what they needed from the hospital, helping them make connections so that they could get out when they needed to, keeping a lookout for them, and in return, they helped protect her. But when she was found out, the officer wanted a bribe. Instead of turning her in, maybe he could turn a blind eye, if she would open her legs for him whenever he wanted. When she resisted, he assaulted her, the physical assaults leaving her face black and blue and bloody, eyes so swollen she couldn’t open them properly, the sexual assaults leaving her bleeding, unable to walk for days. She couldn’t leave her apartment for a whole week, and when Tess and Joel found her, they smuggled her out to live with Bill and Frank. For five years, she helped nurse Frank, before finding them in each other’s arms, a goodbye note and a set of instructions on the dining table.

When Joel and Ellie arrived, she decided to go with them, and the rest was history.

A small thud from a pillow thrown next to her own jolted her from her thoughts, Joel standing over her. It seemed he couldn’t sleep either. He laid down next to her, threw his blanket over them both, and now there were two of them unable to sleep instead of one. Their bodies so weary they couldn’t even find the energy to talk, but the unease in their hearts wouldn’t allow them to sleep. After about an hour of them just lying there staring at the ceiling, the stairs creaked. Ellie joined them, lying on Maddie’s other side. Maddie pulled her closer, and covered her with the blanket too, Joel shuffling closer to her on her right.

Within minutes, all three of them were sound asleep.

***

Madeleine spent the next week scrubbing the house top to bottom, Joel fixing whatever needed fixing. Ellie still hadn’t spoken to either of them, spending her time in the backyard cleaning it up. Maria had come by, setting the three of them up with basic needs to start their new life, and jobs for them to contribute. Maddie, obviously, would be helping Dr Marcus Adams at the big house in the center of town used as the clinic. Joel was set up with some constructing duties, as well as patrol, and Ellie was asked to help at the stable after school.

A couple weeks in, the three of them had somewhat settled into a routine. Although Ellie was still obviously extremely angry with the both of them, she stayed close, not knowing anyone in town apart from them. A month in, she had started to make friends, and her silence was replaced by some mumblings letting Joel or Maddie know where she was headed to before storming off, followed by the obligatory slamming of the door. At this point Joel or Maddie had gotten used to her tantrums, both silently agreeing that this was better than her lying dead on that operating table. Joel even made a joke that he should scavenge for new doors just in case she managed to shatter one with all the slamming.

And then there’s the two of them. Their day-to-day life, preparing meals together, doing household chores, dealing with Ellie’s tantrums, felt so right, so normal, that it wasn’t hard to convince herself the three of them were a family. They had breakfast together every day, Ellie storming off as soon as she finished. Joel and Maddie would then follow suit, walking a distance behind her, making sure she arrived at the school safely. Joel would then walk her to the clinic and go to work. After lunch at the mess hall, Maddie would watch from afar to make sure Ellie got to the stable alright, not wanting to suffocate the angry teenager. Joel would then pick her up from work in the evenings, and both of them would wait for Ellie to finish at the stable a distance away before following her home, again, from a distance.

As unconventional as their days as a family were, this was their new normal. They liked it, even Ellie, not that she would ever admit that. It was as if they were her parents. To Maddie, this new routine was as domestic as she had ever felt, and before she knew it, she was seeing Joel in a different light, wondering what it would be like if they were a couple, and if he felt the same for her. But Joel had never shown her any interest beyond the normal protective man that they knew him to be.

Just as he had given a sense of safety and familiarity to Maddie and Ellie, they were also those things to him. And he would be lying if he were to say that Maddie was just someone he had travelled with. But she was a victim of sexual assault, and he wasn’t willing to scare her off by telling her how he felt. So, he took what he could get, and lived his life with her, hoping that she felt the same way, and that they would be together one day. He was comfortable with her, she was familiar, he felt like he could be himself with her.

Things went this way for a while. Over time, Ellie’s anger seemed to dissipate slightly, and she was beginning to talk to Maddie and Joel when the need arose. But being a teenager, she began spending more time with her friends, and wanted her own space. Eventually, she stopped sleeping downstairs, leaving Joel and Maddie alone, both of them still needing the familiarity of each other’s company to rest.

About three months in, Maddie woke up to Joel spooning her, his arms wrapped around her. She sighed contentedly, feeling happier and more rested than she had ever felt. When Joel awoke, he seemed flustered, mumbling his apologies, covering his crotch with the blankets before going upstairs to get ready for the day. For the rest of that week, Joel and Maddie woke up in each other’s arms, but never took it further. Both of them were convinced that the cuddling was accidental, just an unconscious move one of them made in the night. But the domesticity between them increased, standing nearer to each other, letting their shoulders touch when cooking or walking next to each other, fingers brushing against one another, shy smiles exchanged all the time. Ellie noticed, her eyes rolling, but she smirked softly with approval every time the two made eye contact before looking away pink-cheeked and embarrassed.

That day, after dropping Ellie off, Joel asked Maddie if she would go to the Tipsy Bison for a drink with him that night, just the two of them. Joel’s smile was so wide his eyes disappeared, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his heart close to bursting when she shyly said yes. They continued walking slowly towards the clinic, hands brushing against each other in the process. Joel was having a discussion with himself in his head on whether or not to kiss her on the cheek upon dropping her off at the clinic, when a group of men went running past them towards the clinic, carrying a very bloody man. Maddie looked at Joel, who nodded. She said a quick goodbye before running to the clinic to help.

The rest of that day went by with a blur. The patient had tried to fix his malfunctioning fridge when it shocked him, and his violently seizing body caused it to topple over and crush him. His injuries were severe, and Maddie and Marcus never left his side, staying at the clinic for the next three nights before he stabilized, taking turns sleeping for an hour each at the studio apartment above the clinic.

When Maddie went home days later, Joel was not in the living room sleeping. He had gone upstairs to his own room. Maddie slept in her own room for the first time that night, exhaustion taking her to dreamland within minutes. When she woke up the next day, having slept in later than she normally would, Joel had gone on patrol.

Dinner that night was quieter than usual, Joel exhausted from his long day, Maddie too. Ellie was just rushing through dinner to go to movie night. After they cleaned up, Joel put his jacket on and told Maddie he was going out for a drink before closing the door behind him. Maddie was dumbfounded. What happened to going to the Tipsy Bison together? Did he want her to go with him? Did he ask her, but she didn’t hear? She decided she was going anyway. It was weird to go this long without him.

When she got to the Bison, she searched the room for him or Tommy. She found him almost immediately, sitting at the bar, a drink in his hand, chatting with someone she couldn’t see, his back to her. She walked over, eager to join him, when the crowd parted. He was sitting next to a beautiful redhead, who was animatedly telling him a story. She looked young, probably in her mid-twenties. She was textbook beautiful, with her perfect face and her perfect body in a beautiful wrap dress. Maddie looked at her own reflection in the mirror behind the bar, feeling like she looked at least fifty, and not the mid-forties that she really was, her clothes plain and baggy, hiding her less than perfect body, full of scars from their long journey together. He laughed at her jokes, looking like he’s having a hell of a time. Maddie shook the shock away, walking forward again, when the redhead wrapped her arm around his free hand, and placed her head on his shoulder. Maddie got closer and called his name.

Joel and the redhead turned, Joel quickly pulling his hand away from her hold. The redhead looked her up and down and smiled.

“You must be Madeleine, you’re Joel’s roommate, right?” she asked, her charming smile making Maddie feel like a frumpy old lady.

Joel cleared his throat. “Maddie, this is Vanessa, my patrol partner.”

***

Maddie forced a smile on her face and said hi to Vanessa. Joel pulled the chair on his other side and asked her to join them. But Maddie felt like she was interrupting. She now felt sure that he did not in fact ask her to join him before he left the house. He wanted to be alone with her. And now he was inviting her to join them because he felt bad, or felt he had to. Maddie felt hot all of a sudden, her face flushed with embarrassment. She mumbled some incoherent half-assed excuse about needing to get up early and turned to go home. She heard Joel call after her, but she was too mortified with the realization that she had made up his affection for her in her head that she just bolted. She ran face first into Tommy who asked her to slow down, but she didn’t. She needed to get out of there as soon as she could.

Fuck. What was she thinking? Why the hell would he want to be with some middle-aged old maid such as herself when he could get a Vanessa? Young, beautiful, sexy, sex-on-a-leg Vanessa? Those perky boobs of hers that were close to spilling out of her dress probably didn’t even need bras. Maddie couldn’t get her own boobs to look that perky with the best push up available. He may be in his fifties, but Joel was a good-looking guy, and Maddie had not missed the way the ladies in Jackson giving him fuck-me eyes on the daily. He had always been oblivious to this phenomenon, and Maddie stupidly thought it was because he only cared for her attention, but clearly, she was wrong. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! How was she supposed to look him in the eyes again?

When she got home, she went straight to her room, not bothering to turn the lights on. Sleep evaded her, her heart hammering away, but the embarrassment she felt earlier was now replaced with something she could not identify. She had never felt like this before. Her heart felt… heavy. The weight of it pressing down on her as she laid on her bed. She turned sideways to ease it, it worked for a while, but returned a few minutes later. After what felt like hours, she heard the front door open, and Joel’s familiar heavy footsteps walked in, the sounds coming closer and closer before stopping at her door. She saw the shadows of his feet in the sliver of light under the door from her dark room. She could hear his hand touching the door handle, but after what felt like hours, she heard him huff a long breath before retreating and going up to his own room. Maddie let go of the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She turned one final time, letting the heaviness play with her mind until sleep took her.

The next morning, Maddie practically shoved food down Ellie’s throat in order to whisk her away to school as soon as possible, terrified of running into Joel. Ellie pushed her hand away, grumbling what her problem was. As they were leaving, she heard Joel’s door open. Maddie grabbed Ellie by the collar and pulled her out the door, literally jogging away from the door. She heard the door open, and Joel’s voice call for them, Ellie stopping to wait for Joel, but Maddie kept pulling.

“What is going on with you? Why are we running from Joel?” she asked.

Before Maddie could answer, Vanessa appeared out of nowhere, colliding with her, the force of it pushing both of them on the ground, Maddie literally eating dirt. Joel ran up, helping Vanessa up, checking she was alright before turning to Maddie, whose lips were now bleeding from her face plant. Joel looked concerned, hand coming up to her face, but before he could do anything, Vanessa piped up,

“I was just on my way to get you. We need to leave now. The patrol from last night didn’t return. I was going to go get Tommy next,” she said, her voice urgent.

Maddie wiped the blood on her lips while Ellie helped her up. Joel looked at her, her lips sans blood now. Maddie said something about being late for work and turned around, pulling Ellie with her. Ellie kept quiet after that, somehow reading that any comments on what just happened wouldn’t be welcomed, especially the fact that Joel helped Vanessa up before her. Maddie felt childish, as if she was reading too much into this. He had reached Vanessa first, so it made sense that he helped her first, right? Of course he would’ve helped her too. Of course he would’ve. He would’ve. He definitely would’ve.

When she got to the clinic, Marcus, who was fast becoming her best friend from all the time they spent alone at the clinic, was already there. He turned to greet her, only for his face to morph into concern at her swollen lips, now bleeding again. He forced her to take a seat, despite her protests, fussing with swabs and ointments to make sure she didn’t need stitches. He gently pried her lips open, looking at them with a small torch, dabbing lightly to see if the bleeding could stop on its own, his left hand holding her cheek.

Someone cleared their throat. The two looked up to see Joel standing in the doorway, his face like thunder. He said something about not knowing what time he would be home that day, and to make sure Ellie got home on time, before abruptly turning around and leaving, the door slammed harder than it should behind him. Marcus looked bewildered for a second, before declaring she didn’t need stitches, but dabbing some ointment on her lips anyway, just to be safe.

When both batches of patrol came back that evening, Maddie was relieved to see Joel unscathed, just tired looking, Vanessa riding next to him, looking like some badass chick coming home from a victorious battle, her red hair looking perfect as ever, an easy smile on her face, which was gazing adoringly at Joel. A few riders from last night’s patrol were injured, so Marcus called Maddie to give him a hand. She felt Joel’s eyes on her but did not dare look. She focused on cleaning the injuries and then preparing the trays and equipment to stitch up the wounds, her and Marcus working well together, fast and efficient.

After what felt like a thousand hours, Maddie was looking forward to going home, taking a shower, having a quick dinner and just sleeping the rest of the night away. She was walking towards the stables to get Ellie, stomach rumbling, when someone called her name. It was Vanessa, running slightly to catch up with her.

“Hey Maddie? I just wanted to say sorry for running into you like that this morning. I was in a hurry and didn’t see you. Are you alright?”

Maddie nodded, so not in the mood to feel inferior right now, and Vanessa just brought that out of her. Vanessa continued almost immediately after the nod,

“Hey, just wondering. You and Joel, you guys are not together, right? He said you were just roommates?”

Maddie felt like her heart was in her throat. She was convinced that if she opened her mouth to answer her heart would fall out. So instead, she shook her head. After all, that’s what she was. She was the woman living in the same house as he, in different rooms in fact. They were roommates. He was her roommate, one she was heavily crushing on, a one-sided imaginary feel-fest starring only her.

“Oh, good. So, you don’t mind that we’re seeing each other, right? It’s just, we spend so much time together and I think we both feel this connection you know? It was just a matter of time. We work well together. But I just thought I should talk to you about it, you know, woman to woman?” she said, her eyes dreamy.

“Isn’t he too old for you?” Maddie said before she could stop herself. Vanessa just scoffed.

“If that’s what old looks like, I guess I have a thing for older men. Plus, he’s not old where it counts, you know what I mean? That man can make me purr, let me tell you that!” she said, giving a cheeky wink before walking away.

Maddie stopped in front of the stable, her legs heavier than lead, her head full of what just happened. So, Joel had a girlfriend now? She couldn’t comprehend it, just a week ago he was flirting with her and asking her out for drinks, and cuddling with her, and now he had a girlfriend?

Maddie heard her name again, this time in Joel’s low tone. It seemed he had the same idea to walk Ellie home from the stable now that he was home earlier than expected.

“What did Vanessa want?” he asked her, his head low, eyes fixed on his feet.

“Nothing,” Maddie said, a little too quickly. “You can walk Ellie home, right? I think I’m gonna go home first.”

“Wait,” he said, his hand wrapped gently around her clenched hand. “I made dinner. Let’s have dinner together? Like we always did? I have something to talk to you about,” he said, his face hopeful.

Maddie so badly wanted to say yes, she had missed him. Missed having a good meal with him and Ellie. But Vanessa’s words were fresh in her mind, and if he was just going to tell her the same thing, she didn’t want to hear it. She got it. He had a girlfriend. All his affections were in her head.

“Actually Joel, I’m not hungry. I’m really tired. I’ll see you around,” she said instead, walking away, prying her hand from his gentle grasp, dying to get away from him before the grumbling in her tummy got loud enough to betray her.

Maddie went to bed with a piece of bread, lying in bed in the dark, willing herself not to cry. The heaviness in her chest was back. What was going on? What was this feeling? Shit. She just wanted it to go away.

After he and Ellie had dinner, Joel went to Maddie’s door, raising his hand to knock, desperate to talk to her. But he couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear her word choice – that she will see him ‘around’ instead of ‘at home'. Deciding not to bother her, he went upstairs and willed himself to sleep.

The next day, while she was mopping the floors in the clinic, Vanessa showed up. Maddie almost sighed out loud in exasperation. She kept popping up on her, like a Jack-in-a-Box, but a really annoyingly beautiful one. Instead, she composed herself and forced a fake smile on her face. Vanessa came up to her, a cheeky look on her face,

“Hey Maddie… so… Joel and I are going on a date tonight, and… well… I live with five other girls you know, and Ellie will be spending the night at Dina’s. I was wondering if you could do me a solid and make yourself scarce for the evening? So, we can have some alone time? Help a girl out?” she begged, a desperate look on her face.

Maddie just stared for a while. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to seem like a scorned woman, so she just smiled and nodded, before picking up the mop bucket and walking to the back room. She heard Vanessa’s delighted “thank you!” behind her, shut the door to the back room, sat down, and buried her face in her hands, the tears flowing freely.

As she laid in the twin bed in the studio apartment above the clinic that night, she couldn’t get the images of Joel and Vanessa together out of her imagination. She didn’t even go home for a change of clothes, worried that if she ran into him, she would turn to stone. She kept picturing them naked, their bodies entwined, their lips locked, their moans loud and echoey throughout the empty house. She hated the fact that she didn’t tell him how she felt earlier, and now it was too late. She cried herself to sleep that night, fully dressed.

The next morning, she was shaken awake by a worried Marcus, who had noticed that the apartment lights were on and went up there, thinking he forgot to switch them off. He asked her what happened, but she was too ashamed to tell him, choosing instead to tell him she was too tired to walk home. He obviously didn’t believe her but chose not to press further. Instead, he waited for her to wash her face, and asked her to go to the mess hall for some breakfast instead. He needed to open the clinic, but a hungry nurse won’t do him any good, he said, pinching her on the chin, making her laugh.

When they walked down together, Marcus’s comforting hand on her shoulder, they came face to face with Joel, who stopped walking, his face the picture of devastation at the sight he was seeing. Maddie wanted to be offended, clocking what he must have thought of the sight. How dare he, when he was the one going on dates and bringing the perfect specimen of a woman home. She was about to express her annoyance, but a very chirpy Vanessa came running, pulling him away, whispering in his ear, before turning around and smiling cheekily at Maddie, winking conspiratorially at her, giving her a thumbs up, as if doing her the biggest favor. Joel kept looking back at the two of them, his face disbelieving, looking crestfallen. Maddie felt her heart clench. She realized that instead of anger, his face just looked so sad. She wanted to go after him and ask him what was wrong, but a flustered looking mother came running to the clinic, her child in her arms who was obviously having difficulty breathing.

So, Maddie put her nurse game face on, and took the child from his mother, and brought him inside for treatment.

***

Joel didn’t sleep at home for almost a week after that day. He would walk Ellie home from the stable in the evenings, made sure she had dinner, and left as soon as Maddie got home. He got home before dawn broke, got ready for his day, and let Maddie handle Ellie in the mornings, preferring to leave for the stables without having to bump into her. Maddie made sure Ellie was never alone at night but chose to sleep at the apartment if Joel was home for the night, deciding that she would rather sew her own ears shut than hear Joel and Vanessa going at it, making sure she was out of the house before she came for the night. She got home a little earlier than expected one day and could hear his moans and groans upstairs and ran out of the house like her life depended on it before she could hear her too. Never again, she thought. Her heart couldn’t take it. Ellie was spending more and more weekends sleeping over at her friends’ places, so Maddie was the only obstacle for the happy couple’s privacy. Maddie did wonder where the two spent their nights when they were not at this house. Vanessa made it clear she had roommates, so they must have found some sort of a sex port somewhere.

Maria came to talk to her one day, asking her if she and Joel were having problems, considering they had not been seen together for a couple of weeks. They were virtually inseparable during the first three months in Jackson, and suddenly it was as if they were strangers. Maria told her she was shocked to hear that Joel was with Vanessa – she had always thought that he and Maddie would end up together. Even Tommy was shocked, but of course, no one dared say anything to the grumpy man, for he was even more stubborn than he was grumpy.

As much as Maddie wanted to own up to her feelings and frustrations, she didn’t want Maria and Tommy blabbing to Joel. If he was happy with Vanessa, then she would like to be happy for him, as much as it was killing her inside. So, Maddie tried to keep the peace. She and Joel simply coexisted, avoiding each other like a dance, while making sure Ellie was taken care of.

But Ellie, oh Ellie. That girl had completely become a typical teenager, always angry, always moody, not that she wasn’t already. Despite letting Joel and Maddie walk her to school and back home daily, she made it quite clear that she was still angry at them for what happened at the hospital, using that as an excuse as to why they didn’t have the right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do, since they had taken her choice away from her. She could sense the unease between the two parental figures, and she was acting out. Maddie caught her smoking once, and when she tried to tell her it was not good for her, she stomped off, yelling that she was not her mother so please fuck off! Joel wasn’t faring any better with her either. He caught her sneaking out late one night, and when confronted, she screamed that he was not her father, and it was not like he was such a good role model, he couldn’t even keep his family together.

So, Maddie and Joel had a sit down, and decided they needed to get their shit together, and work together for Ellie’s sake. They came to an agreement that they needed to stay together, just until Ellie fully settled, so that she didn’t feel alone or left out. Family meals were no longer negotiable, even if no one was talking. Also, no one would be having sleepovers, at home or otherwise for a while, just to get their bearings back. Ellie needed stability, and having every other parental figure out of the house every other night was not helping, neither was her sleeping in different places every weekend. And for Joel and Maddie – whatever they had going on outside of the three of them, stayed out of the house. So, Maddie made it a point to never mention Vanessa to him, and he did the same. They were civil to one another, keeping up appearances for her sake, but when Ellie went to bed, both of them quietly retreated to their own rooms, neither talking to each other, each missing longing looks they each gave the other.

Slowly but surely, their efforts started showing results. Ellie started calming down, making the effort to spend more time with Joel and Maddie, going to movie nights with them, even helping them prepare meals and tending the garden in the backyard, doing her chores, and although she still had her temper tantrums every now and again, she was generally more relaxed, and a lot more cooperative. Everything seemed to be going well. The three of them getting along, their school and work life going great.

Every time Maddie saw Vanessa around town, she was always surrounded by ladies her age – her roommates, Maddie assumed. Vanessa always gave her a sad smile, and her friends would stare at her, annoyance and disgust clear on their faces, before rubbing their hands on Vanessa’s back and walking away as a group. Joel had taken to glaring at Marcus whenever the doc was around, although for the life of her Maddie couldn’t figure out why. But they had agreed not to talk about anything non-related to the three of them, so she kept quiet.

About two months after the new arrangement began, Maddie was taking inventory at the clinic when Vanessa walked in, arms full of medical supplies they had found from that day’s scavenging trip. Maddie thanked her, and immediately began checking the items for leaks and expiry dates.

“So, how’s Ellie doing these days?” Vanessa asked.

“Joel didn’t tell you? She’s doing much better. It’s sweet of you to ask.”

“That’s so great! I am so happy for you guys,” she said. “So, now that Ellie’s doing much better, are you looking for other places to live?”

“Why would I be doing that?” Maddie asked back, genuinely confused at the question.

“Well, now that Ellie’s doing better, do you need to still be living with Joel? I mean, you guys are not together, and he’s with me, so why are you still living with him?” Vanessa questioned; a sweet smile still plastered on her gorgeous, perfect face.

Maddie was taken aback. She had been living there since they moved to Jackson. The three of them came in together, where else would she be living? Unless…

“Did Joel say something?”

“Oh, it’s not my place to say…”

“Vanessa,” Maddie’s voice was stern, looking at Vanessa with a serious face.

Vanessa gave an uncomfortable smile. “It’s just that Joel and I were planning to take our relationship to the next level you know? We completely understood the need for the two of us to slow down when Ellie was acting up, but now that she’s doing better, he mentioned that maybe it would be better if you found a place for yourself so that I can move in with him, maybe start a family of our own,” she said, her hands twisting together, head down, trying to avoid Maddie’s disbelieving eyes.

“I mean, technically I could just move in with you still living there, but we are very loud, and I think he just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable you know? Even when we haven’t been spending nights together, he found ways for us to have alone time - the man is insatiable - so imagine what it would be like if we were to actually live together…” she continued, a sly smile on her face.

“Plus, I think you living there would make him uncomfortable too. He wouldn’t even show me affection in public out of respect for you. People know the three of you came in together, and lots of people believe you guys are together, so he didn’t want to make you feel left out or anything, you know? So, it would be better for all of us if you have your own place.”

Marcus walked in at that moment, having heard what was said, a stern look on his face, and Vanessa excused herself, before turning around and begging Maddie not to say anything to Joel, for he had made her promise not to say anything. As soon as she was gone, Maddie told Marcus she would be right back, and ran home. She had to talk to Joel. Was this what he really wanted? She needed to hear him say it to believe it. When she got home, the door was open, and she can hear Tommy, Maria and Ellie’s voices clearly, along with Joel’s low one.

“Are you sure about this brother?” Tommy asked.

“Isn’t it too soon?” Maria added, “It’s only been a few months…”

“It’s not too soon,” Ellie’s voice interrupted.

Joel’s voice was clear now.

“We have to move on, things cannot stay like this forever. We will talk to Maddie, make her understand. This is good for her. To be independent. We will help her with anything she needs, of course, but she cannot depend on us forever, so, it would be better if she lives on her own. It’s not like she’ll be far, we’re right here,” he said, his voice steady.

There was a long silence.

“Alright, if you think that’s best,” Maria said.

Maddie had heard everything she needed to hear. She turned around and walked back to the clinic. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Sure, he had found someone, but it had only been a couple of months, ten weeks at the most. And just like that she was no longer needed? After everything?

When she got back to the clinic, she broke down. She told Marcus everything. She felt like he was the only person she could talk to about this, everyone else in her life seemed to be conspiring to rid Joel of her, and he seemed more than eager to make that happen too. Marcus held her tight, keeping silent and just being there for her. He offered his spare room, but Marcus didn’t live alone, and Maddie didn’t want to intrude. He then suggested she move into the apartment above the clinic – the apartment was part of the clinic, and staff were allowed to use it at the doctor’s discretion, especially when severely injured patients required 24/7 care, and he wanted her to have it. Plus, he said, it would be better for the town to have the nurse living directly above the clinic, especially for emergency cases at night.

Maddie promised to think about it, but when she got home that evening, she found that she couldn’t even look at Joel in the eyes anymore, knowing he didn’t want her there. She could feel his eyes on her at all times, and she kept bracing herself for him to tell her what she already knew – that he needed her to move out so he can live his happily ever after with Vanessa, Ellie, and however many devastatingly gorgeous children those two annoyingly good-looking people would inevitably have from their super active sex life. So, the next day while the house was empty, with Marcus’s help, she packed what little belonging she had, and moved out.

But she still had Ellie to think about. Ellie still needed stability. And as hurt as she was, she didn’t want to put her own needs before Ellie’s, but at the same time didn’t want Joel to have the satisfaction of knowing that she gave in to their demands – even if he hadn’t had the balls to talk to her about him wanting to move Vanessa in. So, she decided that while Ellie was still adjusting, she would sneak back home early in the mornings to make breakfast and have their morning routine together, go back there as usual for dinner, and sneak back out once Joel had gone up to bed. Anything for Ellie. All Maddie wanted was for the little girl to have as normal a life as she and Joel could give her.

More time passed. Vanessa had asked her again if she had found an alternate living arrangement, confirming to her that Joel had no clue she had moved out. She was a bit hurt by that. Really? He didn’t even notice she didn’t live here anymore? To be fair, she had been keeping up the façade of being there as if nothing had changed shockingly well, and Joel was much too gentlemanly to barge into her now very empty room without permission to discover her little act. But still, Maddie found herself to be annoyed most days now. Even after a whole month since she overheard that conversation, Joel still hadn’t confronted her with it. Still hadn’t told her he would prefer for her to move out. Ugh. Just man up and do it already!

Joel, on the other hand, was still walking around as the resident town grump, even all these months later. He went about his day as if someone was always hiding in the bushes about to attack him, shoulders stiff, a permanent scowl on his face. The only times he seemed a bit relaxed was when talking to Ellie, Maddie or Maria, even Tommy when the younger man wasn’t looking to annoy him. Nothing weird there, though. That’s how he had always been, and it took Maddie and Ellie nursing him back to health, their hands never leaving his during his recovery from that incident in Salt Lake City for him to soften for the two of them.

He walked into the clinic one Saturday, holding his left arm, the sleeve of his flannel soaked in blood. Maddie felt her head freeze at the sight, running to him and pulling him into the treatment room to take a closer look. He let her pull him with her, his face soft and at ease seeing her worried one.

“What the hell happened?” Maddie asked, carefully folding the sleeves up to take a closer look at his arm, internally chastising herself at how desperately worried she sounded. She hated how much she still cared and worried for him, but she couldn’t help herself.

There was a long, deep, jagged gash along his forearm, about four inches in length, and it was bleeding profusely.

“Caught it on some sharp zinc in the garage while clearing it today,” he explained, wincing slightly when Maddie applied saline solution to clean the wound.

“The hell were you doing clearing the garage?” she asked. “You need to learn to rest, old man, you work too much,” she said.

Joel chuckled, a smile on his face, despite the pain that he was in. Maddie continued cleaning the gash thoroughly, being careful not to hurt him too much. Her eyes slightly wet at the thought of him being hurt. Those couple of weeks in Salt Lake City were among the worst days of her life, she and Ellie so worried that he wouldn’t make it. Even if she was a nurse, it wasn’t like they had the supplies to treat him properly. She was glad they were in Jackson now, and she could help tend to his wound as needed.

Joel couldn’t help but stare at her as she worked, stitching his wound up, her face slightly scrunched up in concentration. His heart softened every time he looked at her. She was so close to him right now; he could smell her shampoo. He longed to bury his face in her hair, in her neck, so he could drown in her smell. It took everything in him not to, he shouldn’t. He didn’t have the right to do that. But he missed her smell, the way her body melted into his when they used to sleep in the living room, the way their bodies just magnetize towards each other no matter how they tried not to do that. He missed the talks they would have before they both fall asleep, and most of all, he missed waking up with his face buried in her hair, the back of her neck, or her face in the crook of his, her arm around his waist, and his around her body. But he couldn’t have that now, not anymore. So, he settled for just looking at her, taking in as much of her beautiful face as he could, hoping to God that was enough to help him sleep that night.

When Maddie looked up at him, she found him looking at her, his face so soft, his puppy dog eyes full of yearning. Their faces were so close together, she could see the flecks of amber in his beautiful brown eyes.

“Maddie,” he began, his voice so soft, so careful, his uninjured hand finding her arm, softly stroking it up and down. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Her heart stopped. This was it. He was going to tell her he wanted her to move out.

“Joel!!! What happened???” Vanessa’s shrill voice piped in dramatically, her face full of concern.

Maddie wanted to roll her eyes. Where the heck had she come from? Honestly. They spend five days a week on patrol together, she couldn’t let her be alone with Joel for a few minutes? Sheesh. Instead, Maddie rubbed some antibacterial salve on the stitched wound, and began bandaging it, Vanessa fussing over him as if he was a child. Joel just looked a bit flustered, uncomfortable, even. The grump was back. Gone was the soft Joel. He kept saying he was alright, just a cut, nothing to worry about. He was about to ask Vanessa to give the two of them some privacy, when Marcus came in, wondering what the shrill ruckus was all about.

Joel’s face snapped shut even harder. So did Marcus’s when he saw Joel and Vanessa there. As soon as Maddie stood up, he wrapped his hand around Maddie’s shoulder protectively, concerned at what Maddie must be feeling with those two being there together in her presence. He had spent so much time listening to Maddie pour her heart out regarding those two, and he wasn’t about to allow them to hurt her in his presence.

Vanessa wrapped her arms around Joel’s uninjured arm to leave. Joel’s body resisting, but eventually gave in. But before they could leave, Vanessa turned.

“Are you two going to the Bison tonight? Some of the men are doing a live performance. It should be fun! Will we see the two of you there?” she asked, her arms still wrapped around Joel’s, whose face was unreadable, apart from the murdering of a doctor he was probably plotting in his head.

Maddie couldn’t speak, the lump in her throat getting bigger by the second.

“We’ll be there, wouldn’t miss it,” Marcus said, his arm tightening around Maddie’s shoulder. He didn’t miss the way Joel’s eyes flickered to his arm.

“Great! See you there!” Vanessa chirped, before pulling a reluctant Joel with her.

Maddie let out a shaky breath. Marcus let go of her shoulder, but took her face in his hands, checking to see if she was alright.

“Why did you say we would go tonight? I really don’t feel like going. The last thing I need was to see the two of them slow dancing,” she said with a slight tremble of her lips, her tears threatening to slip out.

“Nope. You are going little nurse lady. You are gonna get all dressed up, you are gonna have a few drinks, loosen up and have fun. I’m gonna make sure you leave the Bison smiling tonight if it’s the last thing I do. Fuck ‘em. We are going to have fun. Full stop. Understood?” he said, his face full of care and determination.

Maddie thought about it for a bit and nodded.

He was right. Fuck the two of them. She was going to have fun tonight.

***

Scissors. Where the fuck were the scissors? Ellie was running around the house, looking in every drawer in the common areas looking for scissors. The ‘new’ shirt she had put on for the live performance at the Bison tonight had an annoyingly long lose thread from the wash, and it was a twenty-year-old shirt to begin with despite it being new to her, so she didn’t want to risk pulling it in case it made the situation worse. Joel had left early, needing to help set up the Bison after promising profusely to be careful with his injured arm. Maddie said she would be going from the clinic. So, the mission to find the scissors was a solo one. She went into Joel’s room, hastily looking around for one, but couldn’t find any. Surely, they must have some scissors somewhere in the house, right? Maddie might have them. She ran downstairs, checking in the drawers in the living room and kitchen once more for good measure, before going into Maddie’s room, completely oblivious to what she was about to be greeted with.

***

Maddie spent the evening at Maria’s, looking for a dress to borrow for the night. She forced herself to only speak of everyday matters, and not about Joel or the fact that she was heartbroken that she was about to see Joel and Vanessa together in a public setting. Maria insisted that she put some make up on her, after all, as a beautiful single woman, she might meet someone at the concert, winking at her with a teasing smile.

“Oh, come on Maria. Who would want an old lady such as myself?” Maddie asked.

“Hey, we are about the same age, and 46 is NOT OLD!” Maria said defensively.

“Maybe it wasn’t old in the before, but nowadays? Fuck that is old,” Maddie’s hands covered her face at the thought.

“Hey, Joel is older, and he found someone. You will too,” Maria said.

“Yeah, a 25-year-old. Guys want younger models. They want a Vanessa. They don’t want a Maddie. I mean, Joel went for someone young enough to be his daughter, and he gets called a stud. If I go for someone young enough to be my son? Imagine the backlash!”

Maria sighed. She could not understand why Joel would go for Vanessa. She and Tommy were shocked when they found out. Tommy spent the rest of that day going on and on about how out of character that was for Joel, to go for someone he hardly knew. Joel was a man of routine, of familiarity. And even though Joel had assured him that he and Maddie were just roommates, Tommy didn’t miss the way his brother looked at Maddie. Even Maria noticed, despite not knowing either of them before their second arrival to Jackson. The husband and wife were sure that Joel would finally step up and ask Maddie out. But when Vanessa told her she and Joel were together, Maria decided against talking to Joel about it, and made Tommy promise to do the same, citing it was none of their business. It wasn’t that hard to believe anyway. They spent all day on patrol together, and Vanessa was a beautiful young woman. Joel was just a man, with eyes and needs, so who were they to question it? She could see how Maddie was broken hearted by this revelation, though. But what could she do? The heart will always want what it wants.

They got ready together, Maddie finally relented to wearing a black and white body fitting Lycra dress that flared into a knee-length flowy skirt below the waist, and begrudgingly allowed Maria to lightly put 20-year-old make up on her face, her hair left to fall free around her shoulders. The two walked arm in arm to the Bison together, the town starting to walk over too. The doors to the Bison were left open, the band set up in the square. Maria found Tommy, who gushed at his wife’s beauty, before giving Maddie a low whistle and a once over. She never got all dressed up, and although feeling uncomfortable with all the attention, she enjoyed feeling like maybe, just MAYBE, she was a little bit beautiful tonight, even if only to herself.

When Joel saw Maddie for the first time that evening, he just about had a heart attack. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had always thought she was beautiful, even in her simplicity and no muss no fuss attitude. He had always preferred natural beauty on his ladies, and Maddie just looked stunning tonight.

Joel wasn’t looking too bad himself, despite the wrapped forearm. Maddie’s heart literally skipped a beat when she saw him. Dark jeans, a dark green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, the top few buttons undone. Even his usually mussed curls were tamed tonight, he had styled it a little bit. Damn he looked good enough to eat.

Their eyes met across the room. They both smiled, hoping to convey what they were feeling to each other in those smiles. Someone tapped her on her shoulder. Maddie turned around, and came face to face with a stunning looking, perfectly styled Vanessa, her perfect body wrapped in a skintight red dress, her ample cleavage threatening to jump out and eat Maddie alive.

“Oh my God Maddie you came!!!” she said, giving her an exaggerated air kiss on each cheek. “You look beautiful!!” she exclaimed, giving Maddie a once over.

“Thanks Vanessa. You look good too,” Maddie said, slightly crestfallen. Even on her best dressed day, Vanessa managed to make her feel like an underdressed clown.

Joel came over, two drinks in his hands. He extended one of the drinks towards them, his eyes fixed on hers, but before Maddie could even think of taking the drink, it had disappeared from his hand.

“Why thank you handsome,” Vanessa cooed, the drink now in her hand, her free arm linking itself to Joel’s (was that a bit of annoyance on his face?). “You look good tonight,” she added, her easy smile turned very flirty. “Doesn’t Maddie look good too? You should dress up more often you know, you look really nice tonight,” she added, giving her another once over.

“Yeah, she looks beautiful,” Joel said, his eyes still on Maddie, who felt her face go red. “You really do look stunning tonight,” he said to her directly, his eyes soft and dark at the same time. “Would you…”

“There you are Marcus! Will you look at how beautiful Maddie looks tonight?” Vanessa interrupted, arms tightening around Joel’s bicep.

Maddie turned around to see Marcus looking her up and down, his mouth wide open in a big grinny disbelief, his hands wide open at the sight of her.

“Oh my God, you look amazing!” he said, his arms dropped, taking her hands in his. He twirled her around and bent a little to give her a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, stop it,” Maddie said, faking a shy smile, smacking him on his chest, but kissed him back. “Look at you! You clean up well Dr Adams!” she continued, fake batting her eyelashes at him.

The two laughed cheekily at each other. When they turned around, Maddie was met with Vanessa’s face grinning at the sight in front of her, while Joel… Joel looked like he was about to kill Marcus, the hand around his drink looking suspiciously white from his grip. Marcus ignored Joel’s murderous eyes and pulled Maddie’s hand into his.

“Come on little nurse lady, let’s get you a drink. And then, we are going to dance the night away,” he remarked.

“Bye you two!!!” Vanessa chirped happily, her arm still wrapped around Joel’s, before he pulled it away.

Maddie let herself be pulled away. She was going to have fun tonight, she thought. Nothing will ruin tonight for her, she had been through a hell of a year, a hell of twenty years, in fact, and she deserved to let loose and have fun. So, she had a few drinks, and danced with Marcus. Every now and again, she saw Joel standing somewhere in the room, leaning against a pole or a wall, his eyes always fixed on her, Vanessa right next to him, chatting merrily at whoever was closest to them. She and Maria changed partners for a song or two, Tommy being the goofy dance partner Maddie always thought he would be. But despite having so much fun, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to dance in Joel’s arms, him holding her close again, her face in the crook of his neck, surrounded by his heat and that very Joel smell that she missed so much.

She couldn’t get him alone though, Vanessa always beside him, even though she didn’t see them dance at all. Plus, what were the etiquettes here? Should she ask him to dance? Or wait for him to ask her? Was that an okay thing to do? To dance with the man she was desperately in love with when he had his stunning girlfriend clinging to him like a leech? Sheesh Vanessa, honestly. Was she capable of leaving his side for a second? We all got it, Vanessa, message received loud and clear. You were with Joel. No need to stay clamped to him like that all night. She resigned herself to the fact that she would not be dancing with him and pulled Maria to the bar for more drinks.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off Maddie even for a second. His heart filled with longing to go over and ask Maddie for a dance, but she was always with Marcus, and even Tommy took a turn or two dancing with her (damn him, damn them both!). And Vanessa wouldn’t leave his side even for a second, and no matter how much she batted her eyelashes at him and begged him for a dance, he just didn’t feel like it. The woman he wanted to dance with was dancing with the annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor, not him, the resident town grump. The annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor whom she spent all her working days with. The annoyingly good-looking, charming town doctor whose hands saved lives, unlike his. The annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor who spent the evening expertly and effortlessly twirling her around the dance floor like he was some ballroom dancing expert, while Joel couldn’t even convince himself that he would be able to dance with her without looking at or stepping on his own feet, let alone hers.

When Vanessa finally left his side to go to the bathroom, Joel decided he needed to act and ask Maddie for a dance. But he would be a gentleman about it and ask Marcus for permission first. After all, Maddie was his friend first. They came to town together. They had been living together since they arrived here. They had all this history together. It shouldn’t be weird if they danced together, right? So, Joel made his way towards Marcus, determined to be polite and ask the annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor if he would mind letting him, the resident town grump Joel Miller, to ask his lady for a dance. He got to Marcus, who was chatting with Tommy, drink in hand, and gathered up the courage to ask him the dreaded question. But Marcus’s attention was suddenly distracted by a man who had just entered the pub, looking exhausted, obviously just in from patrol.

“Hey, you made it,” Marcus said, smiling happily before greeting the man with a hug and a sweet peck on the lips. “I don’t know if you two had met. Francis, this is Joel. Joel, this is my husband Francis,” he said.

Joel had seen Francis around before. He was the leader of one of the patrol teams, but since Joel led another team, they had never worked together. He took Francis’s outstretched hand and shook it, commenting that he had seen him around town…

…wait… HUSBAND?

“You’re gay?” Joel couldn’t stop himself from asking incredulously, while Tommy choked on his drink.

“Er… yeah… is that a problem?” Marcus hesitantly asked back.

Tommy and Francis stood there looking at the confused resident town grump and the perplexed, annoyingly good-looking and charming town doctor.

“No, of course not, I just didn’t know. Wait… does Maddie know you’re gay?” Joel asked again, unable to hide the confusion on his face.

“Of course she does. She’s my best friend, I tell her everything,” Marcus said, almost laughingly.

“But I thought…” and Joel’s thoughts remained a mystery when a teenager’s carefully aimed shoe made contact with his head, jolting all four grown men out of the discussion that was not meant to be had at that exact time.

All four men spun around to look at the source of the well-aimed shoe, Joel rubbing his head, only to be met by an extremely angry and hostile looking Ellie.

“What the fuck did you do old man? What did you fucking say to her?” she screamed, launching herself at him, smacking him everywhere she could reach.

Despite the merry music playing, the bar went quiet, everyone staring at the newly unfolding drama.

“What are you talking about? What did I do? What did I say to whom?” Joel asked, fending off her smacks, before bending down to pick up her weapon of choice.

“Maddie! She’s moved out! Her room’s all empty! What did you say to her? Did you chase her out? How could you do that?” she raised her arm to smack him again, but Joel held her hand to stop her.

“Maddie moved out? When?” he asked. He turned around, saw Maddie and Maria, back from the bar with drinks in their hands.

“You moved out?” he asked her, his face disbelieving, hurt, betrayed.

“Okay let’s all calm down and take this outside, shall we?” Maria said calmly, her town mayor persona taking over, taking Maddie’s drink from her hand, passing both their glasses to someone before ushering a stunned Joel and a stone-faced Maddie outside. Tommy took Ellie by the shoulder, doing the same, and Marcus and Francis followed.

Once they were further away from the music, they all stood around awkwardly, before Joel piped up again.

“You moved out?” he asked Maddie again, genuinely unable to believe what he had just heard.

Maddie kept looking at the ground, unable to look him in the eyes. Marcus went to her side, holding her close to him. She nodded slowly, eyes still on the ground.

“Why?”

Maddie finally looked up, annoyed that he had the gall to ask that question.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? I overheard you, Joel. And Vanessa told me. I know all of it Joel. Just because you didn’t have the balls to tell me doesn’t mean I don’t know what is going on,” she said, her voice shaking slightly with anger.

“What are you talking about? What did you overhear? What did Vanessa tell you?”

Maddie scoffed. Unbelievable.

“I know you wanted me out of the house, Joel. I heard you two talking with Tommy and Maria,” she said, looking at Joel and Ellie, her face now contorted, tears threatening to spill out.

“Wait, what?” Maria spoke up. “He never told us he wanted you out,” she continued. Tommy, confusion on his face, also shook his head no. Even Ellie looked confused.

“I heard you guys. You wanted me out. It was good for me. I shouldn’t depend on you forever. I should be independent,” her tears falling now.

A flash of understanding came across the four faces in front of her.

“That was about me,” Ellie said. “I asked Joel if he and Tommy could fix the garage up for me, so I can live there by myself, have a space of my own. That way I don’t have to depend on you two forever,” she explained.

“I was clearing it out today, finally have some time to get started,” Joel added, showing her his bandaged arm, “I was gonna talk to you about it when we had some time alone.”

“Wait a minute,” Marcus interjected. “I was there. I heard Vanessa said you wanted Maddie to move out so that she can move in with you.”

“Why the fuck would I want my patrol partner to move in with me?” Joel looked at Marcus like he was speaking in some foreign language.

Now everyone in that group just looked extremely confused, looking at Joel like he had three heads. Why would Joel call his girlfriend his patrol partner? Sure, that’s who she was too, but that’s just weird. Joel now felt like he was the new kid in school, on his first day, where everyone knew something that he didn’t. Someone said Joel’s name amidst the confusing, uncomfortable silence. The group turned around, Vanessa approaching, a nervous smile on her face.

“What’s going on here? Are we moving the party to the back alley now?” she asked, her face filled with uncertainty, but still smiling, her arm snaking around Joel’s.

Joel snatched his arm away. He turned to face her fully, his face serious, her smile faltering.

“Vanessa, what the fuck have you been telling everyone?”

***

“What do you mean, Joel?” Vanessa asked sweetly, her face looking like she would rather be anywhere else but there at the moment, “I didn’t say anything to anyone…”

“Is anyone going to tell me what is going on? Why would I ask her to move in with me?” Joel turned around, asking the silent people around him instead.

Vanessa’s face turned chalk white. Shit, cat’s out of the bag. She couldn’t believe these people went behind her back. She kept telling them not to tell Joel. Sheesh. How hard was it to follow a simple request?

“Well, I don’t know what she told others, but she told me…” Ellie began.

“Ellie…” Vanessa interrupted, panic beginning to invade her voice.

“Shut up Vanessa,” Joel snapped. “Ellie?”

“She told me you and her are dating,” Ellie finished.

The rest of the group murmured a silent ‘yep’. Everyone apart from Maddie, who stayed quiet, eyes glued to her feet.

“You told them what?” Joel’s face was red now, his eyes snapping to Vanessa.

“No Joel, they must have misunderstood…” she began, but Maria cut her off.

“No Vanessa. You told me you and Joel were dating, exclusively.”

“No, I didn’t,” Vanessa starting to sound like a denial puppet now.

Maddie was still silent. Marcus couldn’t stay silent anymore, his memory of all the tears Maddie had shed resulting from this redhead’s poison just pushed the words out,

“I heard you told Maddie Joel wanted her out of the house so that you can move in with him, Vanessa. That you guys have a lot of very loud sex. In fact, I heard you said that you two were going ‘to start a family of your own’,” he added, complete with air quotes.

Joel’s eyes were shooting daggers at Vanessa now. His body so stiff the vein on his neck were practically popping open.

“Vanessa, why would you say that?” he asked, his voice strained from controlled anger.

Vanessa looked at everyone desperately, silently begging for someone to step up to her defense. No one did, in fact she was met with stone-faced people, all staring at her, waiting for her explanation, except for Maddie, who was still looking at her feet.

“Because I am in love with you, Joel! But all you could think about was her! I just thought, if I could just get her to pull away from you, or make you believe she wasn’t interested…”

“So, you told her we were together? That I wanted her to move out? That I wanted to start a family with you? To scare her away from me? That’s why you kept pushing the idea of her and Marcus at me? You wanted me to think she wasn’t interested in me?” her delusions were so vapid and over the top he couldn’t believe she thought she was going to get away with it all.

“Oh, come on Joel. Look at them. He can barely keep his hands off her. They spend all day together, how sure are you they are not just fucking their brains out when they’re alone at the clinic?” Vanessa spat out, pointing at the way Marcus had Maddie close in his arms.

“Erm… He’s been married to me for 8 years,” Francis piped up.

Vanessa spluttered. In all her scheming, she never thought Marcus might be gay, too self-important and vain to learn more about the people around her unless she was interested in them. She could not see a way out. All her carefully laid plan just burst out into the open. The romantic images of her and Joel riding off into the sunset together now a darkened fantasy.

“I just don’t see why we can’t be together Joel!” she pleaded, “We are perfect together. We work well together. We look good together! Why would you want some dried-up old maid when you can have me, Joel?” her face now wet with self-pitying tears, her hands reaching out to take his face in her hands. He slapped them away.

“Vanessa,” he said, his voice shaky and dangerously low. “I told you, many times, that I am not interested in you like that. We are patrol partners, in fact, after tonight, I wouldn’t even call us that, much less friends,” he continued, taking careful, deep breaths.

“Joel! Please Joel, give us a chance. I am so much better for you than she ever will be Joel, we could be so happy,” she pleaded, trying to take his hands. He took a step back, choosing his words carefully, fists clenched by his sides, trembling slightly.

“You will never speak to me again, you understand? Stay away from my family. You are going to tell everyone what you have done. If anyone still believed us to be couple by Monday, or if I hear you say anything bad about Maddie, or see you so much as look her way, so help me God, I will feed you to the clickers myself. Leave now Vanessa, before I forget myself and hurt you.”

Vanessa stood there like a stump. Her usually beautiful face looked exceptionally ugly under the dim lights behind the Tipsy Bison, tears streaking down her face. Unable to defend herself any longer, she turned and walked away defeatedly, her shoulders slumped.

Another uncomfortable silence surrounded the group.

“Does anyone feel stupid that we didn’t see this coming? I mean, if we had just asked Joel in the first place…” Tommy said, glaring at Maria, who was now regretting not doing just that.

A slew of uncomfortable looks and silent, awkward nods followed.

More silence.

“Well,” Francis said with a deep breath, “This was fun, but I would like to go back to the party and drink my achy bones away, perhaps have a dance or two with my husband,” he said.

Marcus looked at Maddie, a small smile on his face. He kissed her on the temple before letting her go, patting Joel on the shoulder, and walking hand in hand with Francis back to the party. Tommy cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well, I think I might join them. Baby?” he looked at Maria, holding his hand out for hers.

Maria reached out and gave Maddie a quick hug, before taking her husband’s hand and walking away with him. Ellie gave an exasperated sigh at her parental figures.

“Seriously people. You call yourselves my parents? Even I know to communicate, even if it’s just slamming doors. Sheesh,” she said, before starting to walk away. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned to the two of them and said, “By the way, I will be spending tonight at Dina’s. You two should be alone, and… erm… ‘talk’,” she said cheekily, before running off.

Alone at last, Joel and Maddie stayed silent for a while, both awkwardly shuffling their feet while looking at anything their eyes would land on but each other. Joel finally broke the tension, taking her hand, leading her to a bench in front of the clinic. Ellie was right, it’s time they finally talked. Sitting side by side, they shared what Vanessa had been doing as far as they knew.

***

Vanessa’s poison ran deep. She had always been friendly with everyone on the patrol team but set her eyes on Joel from the moment he arrived. She saw how closed up and private he was, so she spent the first couple of months being friendly to him, just a partner, patrolling together, idle chit chats while on duty. Eventually, she managed to get him to talk about Maddie and Ellie, and she saw how Maddie was her main competitor for his affection.

She got him to trust her, be his confidant, as much of a confidant as one can be for the very private Joel Miller. Encouraged him to tell Maddie about his feelings. She listened to him and acted all excited when he told her she had agreed to go out for drinks with him.

She took advantage of Maddie’s absence during her care for Mr. Crushed-by-his-Fridge. Be all buddy-buddy with him, all dressed up, while subtly becoming more and more physical with him. A touch here, a hug there, a head on the shoulder here, an arm around his there… friendly, but friendlier than usual.

She planted the idea of Maddie and Marcus in his head. Joel didn’t bite, so she changed tactics.

She planted the idea of her and Joel in Maddie’s head. She asked her to “do a girl a solid” and let the two of them have some “alone time”. She knew clinic staff stayed at the apartment above the clinic sometimes.

Vanessa ‘accidentally’ ran into him early in the morning the next day, Joel out of his mind with worry because he had just realized that Maddie did not come home that night. She told him she saw her going up to the apartment. She hit the jackpot when Marcus was there too. Now Joel was devastated, heartbroken that Maddie had found someone else.

Vanessa offered her couch, or even her bed for him to stay at, so Maddie and Marcus can have some alone time, they were a new couple after all. He was broken-hearted but decided to stay out of the house for a bit, but not at Vanessa’s. He chose the keeper’s room at the stable instead, sleeping there for almost a week, worried that he might react badly if Marcus came to the house.

Joel still refused her advances on him, insisting that they are only patrol partners. So, she upped her game plan. She subtly pushed the idea of her and Joel being together to Maria and Ellie. Maybe they will start saying her name more to him, be supportive of the idea, this would somehow push Joel into entertaining the idea of them being together.

The plan backfired. Instead of pushing Joel towards Vanessa, Ellie acted out, unhappy that her ‘parents’ were avoiding each other. Joel and Maddie stayed together for Ellie’s sake, rather than separating.

As a last-ditch effort, Vanessa concocted the delusional plan that she and Joel were planning to move in together, effectively planting the idea that Joel wanted her in, and Maddie out. The Ellie and the garage conversation was just an unplanned bonus, but the plan worked. Maddie was hurt enough to distance herself further from Joel, making him feel defeated. To Vanessa’s detriment, Joel still wouldn’t see her as more than a friend.

So, when she saw him injured at the clinic, she took the opportunity to give Joel some PDA to push in Maddie’s face, and Marcus coming in to protect Maddie helped convince Joel further that they really were together. But instead of being sad and finally giving in to Vanessa's advances, Joel chose to just be 'happy' for Maddie, just the way Maddie was for him. Even after all that, Joel stood firm - he was not interested in Vanessa like that. She had asked him to go to the Bison as her date, but he refused. She was determined to stick to Joel that night, never letting him go out of her sight, knowing he was too much of a gentleman to push her away in public. He had refused to dance with her at all, his eyes fixed on Maddie, who spent the entire night dancing merrily in Marcus’s arms. Vanessa kept mentioning what a lovely couple they were, Joel now obviously believing that Maddie and Marcus were indeed a couple. She was convinced that he will give in - just a little more time. All seemed to be going her way.

That was, until Francis walked in.

***

The two took deep breaths together, angry at themselves for letting themselves be fooled by this poisonous woman.

“We need to communicate better,” Joel said, shaking his head in disbelief, chuckling a little at the stupidity of it all.

Maddie could only nod in agreement, feeling drained and stupid for letting these lies cloud her judgments. But… something was missing. She looked at him questioningly,

“Wait, so if you were never with Vanessa, who were you with? I heard you having sex, Joel. I ran out so fast my feet almost caught fire.”

Joel frowned, searching his mind, trying to figure out what she was talking about. He hadn’t had se… oh no… God no… his face turned red at the realisation of what she heard. Words formed in his mind, trying to explain the situation she was referring to, one where he thought he was alone in the house for, but broken, disconnected words were all he managed to get out,

“Erm… sex? I haven’t had… not since… erm… I was not having sex… I was… erm… well… wait, you didn’t happen to hear your name too, did you?” his ears were now so red she could see the colour change even in the dim lighting of the sidewalk.

Realisation dawned on Maddie’s face, turning red on its own accord. Both of their faces now red hot from embarrassment, laughing softly. They continued sitting there, shoulders almost touching, their bodies swaying together to the faraway music from the square.

“So… you are not with Marcus?” Joel finally asked, a small smile on his blushing face.

Maddie smiled shyly, shaking her head slightly. “And you, you are not with Vanessa?” she asked him back.

“Never,” he said, shuffling closer to her. “I actually have a huge crush on my roommate,” he said, turning his body towards her, offering her his hands, “In fact, I am certain that I am in love with her.”

Maddie took his hands in hers, tears falling down on her cheeks. Joel kissed them away silently, putting his forehead on hers, whispering her name.

“Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry,” he said quietly, before taking her face in his hands, bringing her lips to his own, kissing her for the first time.

He held her tight, arms surrounding her, never wanting to let go. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers caressing his curls, sighing contentedly into the kiss. He deepened the kiss, swallowing her moans as she melted into his body. He stopped himself before the kiss turned desperate, very much aware they were on a sidewalk in front of the clinic, in perfect view of the townsfolk who were still going to the Bison. He took her by the hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, and asked her if he could take her home.

“My apartment is just through that door,” she whispered in his ears, pointing to the door behind him.

Joel’s body tensed. Without saying another word, he lifted her up bridal style, earning a shriek from her, and carried her up the stairs to the small apartment. He kicked the door closed before placing her gently on the twin bed in the middle of the room. He joined her on the bed, hovering over her, not caring that the bed was far too small for the both of them.

“Joel, your arm, we shouldn’t,” Maddie began, but he silenced her with a long, deep kiss.

“So, I hear you are in love with your roommate,” Maddie said. Joel chuckled shyly, his nose rubbing against hers. “Well guess what?” she asked, as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m in love with my roommate too,” she told him. His face lit up, and he claimed her lips again.

Joel didn’t want to leave any room for Maddie to doubt his desire for her that night. He took her slowly, thoroughly, his lips and tongue covering every bit of skin he unraveled when undressing her, leaving her moaning, squirming and breathless before she was even naked. When he finally took her soaked underwear off, the growl he let out had her wondering if he was secretly some sort of an animal, and boy oh boy was he one. He devoured her like he was some famished man who had spent his days peeking longingly into the window of a high-class restaurant he couldn’t possibly afford, ravenous from the deprivation of the ultimate feast that seemed unreachable for him until that very moment - her. Joel’s name became a prayer, ranging from desperate whiny whispers all the way to full blown screams that became hoarser and hoarser as the night went on. Maddie swore she saw God at least three times before his shirt was even off, shocked that he still had a full head of those beautiful curls from how hard she was pulling at them, legs shaking, chest heaving, her entire body flushed from the pleasure he had given her.

When she had calmed down, she climbed atop him, slowly torturing him with soft kisses, kitten licks and caresses, taking her time exploring his body, beginning from his eyebrows, going further and further down until he was so hard his entire body was shaking uncontrollably, his brain deprived from all the blood it needed, his words slurred and mumbled. She was amazed by the power she had over him at that moment – Joel Miller, the resident town grump, the man who ran amok through an entire hospital to save his daughter, the heroic alpha who could slash his way through bands of clickers and raiders alike – reduced to babbling nonsensical mumbo jumbo that almost had her giggling from satisfaction. When she slowly lowered his boxers, she blew softly on his unraveled manhood, leaving him gasping for air, his trembling body suddenly stock still from the pleasure a simple puff of air provided. She wet her lips, her mouth watering at the sight, and lowered her head to finally, finally taste him. But before she could even touch him, his hands stopped her, his body flipping her onto her back. He placed his head on her chest, telling her in a strained voice with much certainty that if she were to touch him at that moment, he would spontaneously combust.

Slowly, with their lips locked together in a passionate kiss, he entered her, inch by impressive inch, pulling back slightly, going deeper with each tortuously slow thrust, until he stilled, whispering to her between kisses that he needed a moment, fully encased in her warmth, his thick tip nudging at a spot Maddie never knew existed until now. She forgot how to breathe, her entire body responding to this much welcomed and long overdue union, the coil in her belly bubbling hot just from this one initial nudge, her insides involuntarily clenching to find release. He almost screamed, before composing himself, taking deep breaths, shutting his eyes from her reaction. He begged her, pleaded with her not to move, not to clench, his entire body straining from trying not to burst, his arms holding her tight, his face, neck and chest red from the effort, his teeth gritted, his eyes shut tight, beads of sweat glistening all over his beautiful face. She in turn was begging him over and over to forgive her, her body wasn’t listening to his pleas. She’s sorry, she’s sorry, she’s so very sorry, she couldn’t help it. Despite him not moving at all, she was too close, too hungry, too desperate for release, her core continuously squeezing him so tightly, milking him for all he had to give her, pulsating around him again and again until her entire body shook with unmitigated pleasure, stars bursting behind her eyes, sending her to heaven and back, a silent scream releasing from her open mouth, her hands clutching at his back, her vision whitened, her ears ringing, taking him with her to nirvana.

When she could finally breathe again, the room was quiet, save for their quivering breaths. His body was slumped over hers, his head in the crook of her neck. She held him tight, her fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on his back, a satisfied smile on her face. The silence was finally broken by his muffled voice, mumbled into her neck, before he managed to muster the energy to lift his head, his face red from embarrassment, having finished so early, inciting giggles from her. He buried his face in her neck again, mortified by his body’s betrayal, while she kept assuring him between sweet kisses that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, she said, there’s always the next time. Wiggling his eyebrows, he kissed her with a smile, and promised vehemently that he would make up for it.

And after a short rest, he did make up for it, again and again that night. He made up for it again on Sunday morning despite complaining that the small bed had fucked his back, again after breakfast, while packing, showering, once more before leaving that evening, and one more time for good measure when he finally took her home, to their now shared bedroom.

***

The very tired but glowing couple walked to the clinic Monday morning, fingers entwined with one another’s. Maddie was due to start her shift, and Joel’s back and arm needed looking at, his back extremely sore and some of his stitches ripped from… unplanned strenuous activities. They were greeted by a very annoyed looking Marcus, a bucket of cleaning supplies at his feet. He complained that the apartment smelt like sex, unable to hide the smile behind his faux annoyance. So, Maddie’s sole duty for the day was to sanitize that apartment top to bottom, so that Marcus could actually get his rest there when needed without having to worry about… contamination.

As delusional as Vanessa had been in her concoction of her torrid sexcapades with Joel, she was right about one thing. The man may be middle aged, but he was young where it counted. The man was insatiable. Ever since that Saturday night, he couldn’t leave Maddie alone, hands constantly on her. Whenever they were in the same room, a part of him must be touching her at all times. A hand on her thigh, his little finger hooked on hers, his chest on her back, his arm around her shoulder, his fingers interlaced with hers, his chin on her shoulder, his arms around her waist, and those were when there were others around. When alone, those ‘innocent’ (his words, not hers) touches were always accompanied by his lips on her person, his talented tongue joining in on the action not long after. And well, the rest… followed.

Ellie made sure to knock as loudly as she could before going into any room in the house now, even open areas like the corridor, the living room or the kitchen, using anything she could use to make as much noise as she could, eyes closed tight until Joel or Maddie responded, her mind still haunted by what she saw when she walked in on her parents going at it like rabbits on the couch, which she steadfastly refused to sit on now, even after they made a show of thoroughly cleaning it in front of her.

“It’s the mental image of it, guys, you’re gonna have to scrub my actual brain to get rid of that,” she exclaimed, “Can’t believe you mowed down an entire hospital to save me, and then let me go through THAT…” she mumbled under her breath, shaking her head. “Let’s erm… get the ‘me moving into the garage bit’ going yeah? So, I don’t fear for my mental health much longer?” The girl had been through literal and figurative hell and back, and walking in on her parents having sex was still the worst thing she had ever seen.

Their life and routines together flourished. As far as Jackson were concerned, they were a family. Sure, the ladies still ogled Joel like he was a popsicle on a hot day, but Maddie now knew for sure that he only had eyes for her.

Vanessa had been taken out of Joel’s patrol team and placed on wall duty, partnered with only women, most of whom acted like she wasn’t there unless needed. Life hadn’t been easy for her since that night. Word of her scheming had spread like wildfire, and the ladies of Jackson, even the single ones, avoided her like the plague, worried she would go after their men. Even the men avoided her - save for some shameless lecherous ones who only wanted one thing from her – worried that they would be trapped by her. Safe to say that any hopes for her to settle down and have a family was long gone.

She in turn, avoided the Millers as much as she could, turning around and going another direction whenever she saw them. She couldn’t avoid going to the clinic when she needed treatment, but she had no choice. Thankfully, Maddie and Marcus were much too classy to treat her like a leper, her shame was enough of a punishment without them having to add to it.

***

A year later, Ellie ran into the house in such a rush she didn’t have time to knock, running upstairs, barging into her parents’ room with her eyes closed tight, a hectic scrambling on the bed letting her know she had been right to do so.

“Guys, Tommy sent me, Maria’s in labour!” she yelled.

Maddie and Joel dressed quickly, Maddie telling Ellie to go get Marcus.

“Tommy already went to get him. And eww Maddie, wash your hands! God knows what part of Joel you just touched,” she squirmed, eyes still closed shut. She turned around to leave, muttering under her breath, “With all your canoodling I am shocked Maria’s having a baby and not you…”

Joel and Maddie looked at each other, a knowing smile on their faces.

[qveerthe0ry]

Misfire

Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited. Word Count: 966 Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Note: I'm hoping this will be part of a long series of one-shots where I write Dieter as a pathetic little subby, desperate, whimpering mess. As of right now I don't have any big plans for what to write next, but I'm always down for suggestions ;) - Also, I had a hard time with the warnings on this one, don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something that needs tagged.

Dieter Bravo does not feel shame.

His entire schtick is doing whatever the fuck he wants, unapologetically. He hasn’t batted an eye at a tabloid headline in decades. 

But now… Now he feels like a fool. He’s gone and landed himself a really stupid part in a low-budget film about a bunch of old guys on an Olympic diving team. 

Which, first of all, ouch. He knows he has some years under his belt, but he wasn’t ready to be typecast into old guy roles this early on. 

But second of all, ouch again, because he’s gotta get a full body wax for this dud of a movie that’s inevitably going to sink anyway. 

And not ouch in a bad way, per se. But ouch as in he’s kind of really into the sting, and he’s ass naked on this cold table covered in paper, hard as a rock. 

Which was fine when he was turned onto his stomach. He was able to squish his cock in a not-so-pleasant way to stave off the desperation. 

But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.

With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkward on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.

“What’s that?”

Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm as you fiddle with your waxing supplies and glance at him.

“Oh. It’s fine, happens all the time. I’ve seen worse.” 

That at least gets him to huff out a laugh. You sound unbothered, and it eases him a bit. 

“I’d hate to see worse,” he tries to joke.

You just hum in response. 

You start on his chest, though there’s not much to wax there. His armpits are ticklish, which makes him even harder. His cock bobs in the air, angry and red and neglected. He’s afraid to move, he’s afraid to breathe, he’s such a hair trigger. 

He starts thinking about all the directors he hates. He goes down the line, from his earliest project he can remember, and he’s about halfway through when you finally finish his shins and knees but it doesn’t help.

Your hand taps the inside of his thigh, prompting him to spread and bend, and the movement sends his cock lolling onto his stomach. It makes him jolt and suck in a deep breath. He can tell you’re trying to ignore it. He wishes he could. 

And fuck, he hasn’t gotten off in like, a week and a half, caught up between traveling and getting whiskey dick at that party and leaving his Cialis at his friends with benefits’ apartment. 

He jolts every time you wax the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. And every time he jolts, his cockhead rubs against his now smooth stomach. His dick is drooling. 

When you get to the well groomed, thank you very much hair at the base of his dick, you have to wipe away the obscene amount of pre-cum that’s pooled there. 

“Sorry,” he breathes again. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, swiping the taut skin. 

It tugs on his dick. He whimpers. 

His knuckles are white now, gripping the edge of the table so hard he’s sure there will be permanent nail marks on the pleather. He’s biting his bottom lip, a metallic taste blooms inside his mouth. 

He’s lightheaded, between holding his breath and the fact that all his blood is in his dick, and his vision starts to tunnel a bit. Those tell-tale, fuzzy stars begin dancing around in the edges of his vision but promptly disappear when you grab his dick. 

The sound he makes is pitiful, a pathetic plea to his own body to stop betraying him. 

He chances a look down to see what you’re doing. One of your gloved hands holds his dick with just your thumb and forefinger, as professional as can be, while you spread wax across the wiry hairs just above it. 

He’s on the edge, his cock is jerking and pulsing between your two fingers, and if he can just make it past these next few minutes he can spill into his own hand as soon as you leave the room to let him dress. 

If only. 

You rip the wax from his skin, and it tugs on his cock and it hurts and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure shoots down his spine and he cries out a pathetic little whine. He’s barely able to push your hand away in time, breathing out an apology just as his prick jumps and releases a long, thick rope of cum. 

“I’m so sorry, fuck, s-sorry,” he pants. 

Tears prickle behind his eyeballs as he just keeps coming. There’s so much it’s almost comical, spraying the tender, reddened skin of his chest and belly.  You’re just staring too, completely emotionless, waiting for it to end so you can complete your job. 

Dieter whimpers again, biting his fist as he watches the last of his release dribble down his traitorous cock, then squeezes his eyes shut. A tear slips free, and he lets out a shuddering breath. This is the worst orgasm of his entire life, and that includes all the times he couldn’t help but rub one out with a UTI. 

You clear your throat, and you’re handing him a box of tissues. 

“I’ll let you clean yourself, then I’ll finish up.” 

He hears your impatient sigh as you leave the room.  Apparently Dieter Bravo can feel shame.

[writingwithciara]

Pair ~Chris Sturniolo~

summary: did the casual hookups change everything between chris and y/n?

word count: 1.4k

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

notes: just like the rest of the series, this part is based off of THIS song by ian mcconnell. [angst with a few swears, implied sexual content]

previous part

masterlist

chris was dead set on bringing up the newfound issue in their relationship. but when he saw the look on y/n's face, he knew he couldn't go through with it.

she collapsed in his arms that night. tears pouring down her face as she stumbled over her sentences, trying to explain what was happening.

"hey, it's going to be alright. i'm here. it's okay." he rubbed her back soothingly and helped her into his bed.

"if it's alright, can we just not have sex tonight?"

"yeah that's fine with me. as long as you're comfortable, i don't care what we do." chris joined her under the covers and pulled her into his chest.

it was beginning to feel like an actual relationship and chris knew that it wasn't one, inevitably breaking his own heart.

he finally decided that he needed some distance from y/n to figure out his feelings. and he didn't see much of anyone else over the next few days.

nick was always out and matt was never around when chris wanted to hang out. obviously y/n was not an option for him. so he was alone.

the times that nick was actually at home, he would question where y/n was.

nick and y/n had only met each other briefly but he knew how much she meant to chris so to him, it was odd to not see her around or even hear her.

on y/n's side of things, she was confused as to why chris was suddenly ghosting her. none of her friends could tell her what was going on and the situation became frustrating.

they just weren't the pair they used to be.

-----

it was nearly 2 weeks later when y/n and chris finally crossed paths again.

of course it just had to be at a party. the same friend was throwing the party that also threw the one they met at so they both obviously had to go.

y/n caught chris staring at her and she smiled at him, even though every fiber of her being was telling her not to.

he grabbed another drink and made his way over to her. y/n prepared herself to be angry when he approached but dropped the act when he handed her a cup full of her favorite drink.

the drink she had the night they met.

"thanks." she sipped it while maintaining eye contact with him. can i ask you something?"

"yeah, i guess."

"why have you been ignoring me?"

"i haven't."

"yes you have. ever since that night like 2 weeks ago where we didn't have sex, you've ghosted me."

"it wasn't my intention. i've just been really busy as of late. i'm sorry. i should've let you know."

"it's okay, chris." y/n sighed. "so what have you been bust with?"

"stuff for my brand. it's awesome." he giggled excitedly and started going into detail.

it was like their relationship was fixed in 5 minutes.

but it wasn't.

despite fighting against himself and his better judgement, chris found himself back in bed with y/n. unlike the first time, they were drunk beyond comprehension and were both hoping they wouldn't remember it in the morning.

chris did. y/n did not. and lucky for chris, she was a heavy sleeper. he was able to get her dressed and made it look like nothing had happened last night.

so when she woke up, y/n was completely oblivious to the fact she and chris slept together.

"good morning, y/n. i brought you some painkillers and some water. hope it helps."

"thanks, chris." y/n accepted the glass and quickly swallowed the painkillers. "nothing happened last night, did it?"

"no. thank god."

"what do you mean?"

"like, not in a bad way. but i like to be coherent enough to remember it happen when we actually do have sex."

"yeah, good point." y/n swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. chris followed her to the door.

"things between us...they're good, right?"

"of course, chris. why wouldn't they be?"

"i wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me."

"you were busy, chris. i'll admit i was a little pissed when you ghosted me but i get it. your job comes before anything." y/n smiled. "it's good to have priorities."

"you should know that i'm making you a priority too."

"as long as your family and job comes first."

"you're family so you're a top priority."

"family members don't do the things we do, christopher."

"touché." chris chuckled and walked her out to her car. "see you later?"

"of course." y/n drove away and suddenly, their relationship was back to the way it was before the party.

it felt like they were strangers again.

but this time, it was y/n who ghosted him, leading to chris' confusion.

he wasn't the same as he used to be. not as happy or goofy.

fans started to notice and luckily, they weren't aware of y/n at all so they all assumed it was something he would get over eventually.

y/n always kept up to date on the triplets and seeing the effect she was having on chris made her feel terrible.

she got in her car and drove to their house, hoping she cold clear the air with chris.

when she knocked on the door, she was not expecting nick to answer it.

"hey. i missed you."

"you barely know me but i missed you too." y/n smiled and walked in. she headed to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "is chris home?"

"yeah he's in his room. knock before you enter though. who knows what he's been doing in there." nick smirked and headed back up to his own bedroom.

y/n walked down the stairs and stopped outside of chris' room. she raised her hand to knock but the room was quiet on the other side so she just pushed the door open lightly.

the room was almost completely dark and if it hadn't been for the light peaking in from behind the curtains, y/n wouldn't have been able to find her way over to his bed. she sat on the edge slowly and gazed over at chris. his eyes were closed but he wasn't snoring so she knew he wasn't asleep.

"chris, can we talk?"

"um, yeah of course." he sat up and turned on the lamp. "what's up?"

"i'm really sorry i ghosted you. it wasn't right of me. i was jsut afraid."

"what were you afraid of?"

"we hooked up that night, chris. i know we did."

"yeah. we hook up a lot."

"but why did you try to hide it from me? did you not want to remember it? was it bad because we were drunk?"

"no. of course it wasn't bad. it's never bad. holy shit. it's incredible each time. i only tried to hide it because i didn't want to face reality."

"what are you talking about?"

"it happens a lot with the hookups. someone always catches feelings eventually & it doesn't last."

"are you saying you have feelings for me?"

"what? no. i'm saying you have the feelings and i was just trying to protect you from getting hurt."

"i don not have feelings for you, chris."

"then why do you always find these shitty men to go out with ? it's literally like you're purposely searching for the worst guys just so you can come over and fuck me."

"screw you chris."

"yeah that too."

"no. i mean it." y/n stood up and looked at him. "i don't purposely find the worst men. it just ends up that way. and the fact that you would even insinuate that is just low. if i wanted to just come over and fuck you, i would, okay? i wouldn't need to waste my time with a shitty guy."

"then why didn't you?!"

"i got worried you would think i had feelings for you if i was over here every night. i wanted to avoid this situation. but look what happened there." y/n sighed and sat back down. "i think we should take a break from our casual relationship."

"yeah that might be a good idea. but please just hang out with me as a friend. we don't need to have sex or anything. because i genuinely enjoy your presence."

chris gave her the look he knew she couldn't resist and was giggling like a school girl when she agreed to stay and watch a movie with him.

he was not prepared for what came next.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @carolinalikesthings @fearfam69691

[prettygirl-gabi]

All that mattered

---

---

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, slight (very light) angst, happy ending

Category:F/M¹³

Fandom:Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !idol S.coups x f reader, !idol Jeonghan x f reader, !idol Joshua x f reader, !idol Jun x f reader,!idol Hoshi x f reader, !idol wonwoo x f reader, !idol woozi x f reader, !idol dk x f reader, !idol The8 x f reader, !idol Mingyu x f reader, !idol Seungkwan x f reader, !idol Vernon x f reader, !idol Dino x f reader.

Summary: What did you expect when you're dating all 13 members of Seventeen

---

Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the bouns installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

I'm thinking about making a version where Jeonghan goes of for military, let me know if you all would like it...

It all started as a dream I didn’t dare to believe could come true. Being with one member of Seventeen seemed unimaginable, but somehow, I had all thirteen of them. It was chaotic, beautiful, terrifying, and the most loving experience of my life.

I never meant for things to get so complicated. I hadn’t planned on falling in love with all of them. But how could I not? Each member held a special place in my heart, different and unique in their own ways. S.Coups’ protective nature, Jeonghan’s mischief, Joshua’s soft-spoken wisdom, Jun’s gentle warmth, Hoshi’s endless energy, Wonwoo’s quiet intensity, Woozi’s artistic soul, DK’s contagious laughter, Mingyu’s clumsy affection, The8’s calm confidence, Seungkwan’s fiery heart, Vernon’s understated coolness, and Dino’s earnestness. I loved them all, and, miraculously, they loved me too.

But love like this is not simple. We were walking a tightrope every day, trying to balance our love with the expectations of the world, with the fear of losing each other, and with the constant worry that this wasn’t sustainable. Polygamous relationships aren’t exactly accepted or understood, and this one—being in love with a whole group of idols—was something entirely different.

I often found myself suffocated by doubt. Was I giving enough to each of them? Was this fair to them, to me? Sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, when we weren’t together, the anxiety would grip me, leaving me breathless and terrified that this would all come crashing down.

And then there were the fights. When you have fourteen people in a relationship, conflict is inevitable. It wasn’t always big—sometimes it was about time management or someone feeling left out. Other times, the fights cut deeper, about fears we didn’t voice, insecurities we tried to bury. And at the heart of it all was the constant question we never dared to fully ask: *Could this last?*

One night, it all came to a head. I had spent the day with Mingyu, and as usual, he had showered me with affection, his clumsy hands always trying to be gentle. We had laughed together, cooked together, and by the end of the day, I was exhausted in the best way. But when I returned to the shared apartment, the tension in the air was thick.

I barely stepped through the door before Jeonghan’s voice cut through the silence.

“Must be nice,” he said, his tone laced with bitterness. “Spending the whole day with just one of us.”

My heart dropped. “Jeonghan—”

“No, it’s fine,” he interrupted, standing up from the couch. “We all agreed to this, didn’t we? So it’s fine if some of us feel left behind.”

“Hyung, don’t do this,” Hoshi said, trying to defuse the situation. But the hurt in Jeonghan’s eyes was clear.

“I’m just tired,” Jeonghan muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We’re all giving so much, and sometimes it feels like it’s never enough.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to find the words. “I’m sorry. I’m trying—I’m really trying.”

“You shouldn’t have to try so hard,” Woozi said softly from his spot on the floor, strumming a guitar absently. “None of us should feel like this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The guilt gnawed at me, twisting in my stomach like a knot I couldn’t untangle. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Suddenly, S.Coups stood up, his voice calm but commanding. “Enough. This isn’t helping.” He turned to me, his eyes softening. “No one is blaming you. We knew this would be hard.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m failing all of you,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I love you all so much, but I don’t know how to make this work.”

Mingyu, who had been quiet since we arrived, reached for my hand. “You’re not failing, jagiya. We’re all learning.”

“But what if—” I couldn’t even finish the thought. What if I wasn’t enough for them? What if this wasn’t enough?

DK, always the one to break the tension, stood up with a shaky smile. “Let’s not do this tonight. We all love each other, right? That’s why we’re here. So let’s talk about this when we’re not all feeling so raw.”

Joshua nodded, his calm voice soothing. “He’s right. We’re all a little tired. Let’s take a step back and talk tomorrow.”

But the fear lingered, heavy in the room like an unwelcome guest.

---

The next day, we sat down together. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t quick, but we talked. Really talked. About the things we were scared to say before, the jealousy, the insecurity, the worry that someone was giving more or less. It hurt—God, it hurt—but it was necessary.

Jeonghan apologized for lashing out. “It’s not just you. I’ve been feeling… scared, I guess. That this won’t last.”

“I’ve felt the same,” The8 admitted quietly. “I think we all have.”

S.Coups squeezed my hand. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to keep trying.”

In that moment, something shifted. The love was still there, strong and unwavering, but so was the understanding that this wasn’t going to be easy. It never had been. But love is messy. It’s imperfect, and that’s what makes it real.

“I don’t know how to promise forever,” I said, my voice small. “But I can promise that I’ll try. Every day.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Vernon said, his eyes locking with mine. “We’re in this together.”

One by one, they all agreed. It wasn’t a solution, not exactly, but it was a step forward.

---

Over the following months, we found a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. We learned to communicate better, to listen when someone was feeling left out or overwhelmed. We learned to share our love, not just with each other, but with ourselves.

There were still moments of doubt, of course. That never fully went away. But now, we faced those moments together.

One night, after a long day, I found myself in the middle of the bed, surrounded by all thirteen of them. We didn’t say anything—words weren’t necessary. The warmth of their bodies, the steady rhythm of their breathing, the feeling of belonging—it was enough.

“I love you,” I whispered into the quiet, the words heavy with truth.

“I love you too,” came the chorus of replies, each voice layered with the same deep affection.

In that moment, I knew that no matter how difficult it might be, this was worth it. They were worth it. We were worth it.

And that was all that mattered.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[itjazzbicch]

Particular Attention

Pairing: Shimmon Benimaru x Fem Reader

First time writing for Fire Force & Benimaru,  so I hope I did well!

Summary: Inspired by Season 2 Ep 1 (The calendar photoshoot! This will be a mini-series w/multiple characters)

Learning the Konro had secretly taken his picture for the Fire Force nude calendar, Benimaru takes his S/O, the reader, to the bathhouse with him in case someone were to snap his photo again, and the inevitable tension quickly takes their attention...

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) Swearing, foreplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it!), Established relationship.

Word Count: 0.8k

“I still can’t believe Konro was taking those photos for the calendar behind my back.”

Typical Benimaru not wanting to take part in the yearly calendar event. I understood but took the opportunity to tease him as we entered our private section in the bathhouse.

“Did you bring me to keep watch or for something else?”

Letting my robe drop, I giggled at his eyes staring at my ass, the water steaming hot as I submerged slowly.

“You’re something else,” He groaned, dropping his towel and joining me in the water, sitting back and exhaling deeply as the hot water consumed him.

“Oh, come on. Loosen up,” I giggled, slipping behind him to rub his shoulders, whispering in his ear, “You don’t realize how appealing you are to the naked eye, do you?”

“I don’t seek attention or flattery,” He mumbled, relaxing against me as I massaged deeper, adding kisses along his neck:

“Yeah, but at least allow me to give you some attention. Hm, baby?”

“Urgh,” I swear that he enjoyed being grumpy, trying to hide the satisfaction behind his groan, subconsciously tilting his head to expose more of his neck, mumbling, “You’re lucky to be the only one to have my heart.”

“I am,” I purred, deepening my kisses, hand grazing his thigh to find his stiffening cock, stroking softly, “And so grateful.”

“Mmhm,” He hummed, slouching as I stroked his cock faster, thumb teasing his swelling tip, staring off for a moment as he was thinking.

“Something on your mind?”

“Just making sure Konro or anyone else is trying to snap photos.”

“With me here?” I laughed, reverting to my slow strokes, “They’d be signing their death certificate.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, taking my hand, “If he does, he’ll probably drop dead from what he sees. Get over here.”

“No one’s lurking, Beni,” If anyone were, I’d sense it. We were all alone, so I gladly got up and stood before him, going to kiss him.

“I’m not worried about that,” Placing a finger on my lips and then pushing me to guide me around; he made it clear he wanted me sitting on his cock, “Only worried about what you started.”

“You know I’ll take care of it,” I smiled, back facing him as I straddled over his thighs, naturally able to line myself up with his cock.

“Yeah, you better,” He toyed, tapping my ass and holding as his tip rolled through my folds, letting him feel that I was slicked and ready, the familiar stretch having a moan ooze from my lips.

“I’ll always love that,” I cooed, sitting down to enjoy how his cock always had me stuffed, gently rolling my hips forward.

“Need some motivation or something?” He was so impatient, fingers swimming to my clit to make my nerves run wild, the judders making my hips roll quicker by instinct, “You know how I like it, so c’mon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with taking our time sometimes, you know?” I gasped, shooting an audacious look back at him before picking myself up, leaving just his tip, “But if that’s what you want, baby.”

The water splashed from how hard my ass smacked against him, taking him deeper and deeper each time I rose and bounced up and down, not fighting the lewd moans that grew along with my movements, the satisfaction strong in his lingering moan:

“Ughhh. Y/N, baby- “

Taking two handfuls of my ass, every ripple and jiggle of my skin had him falling into delirium, digging into my plush, an idea in mind as his tense hand glided up my back, pushing me forward.

“Beni-“ The angle had my clutch around him strengthen, gripping to his knees as his hands found my hips.

“Stay just like that,” He cooed, thrusting upward so his tip would hit the pits of my stomach, my yelps of pleasure almost drowning out his following command, “Keep bouncing, too. If you can handle it.”

“Uh-Uh,” Bouncing into his thrusts, my walls started to throb, the friction stronger, and the way he could split always had me cock drunk and submissive to him, “I can, Beni!”

“I know you can, sweetheart,” He always knew when I was close, lost in bliss and wanting my pussy clamping his cock even harder, his hands guiding my hips into a harder, faster pace.

“Gosh-“ The steam from the bath filled my head and turned it to must, burning hotter and hotter as I got closer, babbling out pleases that mixed with my whimpers and moans, “Beni-i! Ah-ahh!”

Our skin meeting almost felt like electricity. It was heavenly, extremely potent when he pulled me back toward him, hugging my upper half and kneading my breasts as I was still whimpering, creaming his cock, and the intense throbbing from my orgasm had his cock twitching, struggling to fight the urge of cuming in me.

“That’s too good,” His warm, deep breath grazed my ear, not finished with me as he panted softly with impatience, “Let’s go to the showers so I can finish.”

“In a second?” I needed a moment for my nerves to calm before moving, smiling at the annoyance in his eyes, brushing back his dark locks, and pressing my lips to his cheek, “Don’t worry. I’ll never leave you unsatisfied, hon.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

[corpsekiller]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐲) — 𝐭.𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. thomas shelby x fem!reader (maid!reader)

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. angst, jealousy, seemingly unrequited love that isn’t actually unrequited, mutual pining

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. thomas thought he knew desire before he met you, but you proved him wrong. since the day you started working for him as a maid, he has been watching you from afar, trying to contain his hunger for you and it was only a matter of time until he finally breaks.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. this is the second part to wanting you (is all i’ve ever known). i got many comments asking for another part and since i already planned to turn this into a small series with three parts, i felt more motivated to continue writing this, so thank you for your reblogs and sweet comments on the first part! and @luv-gin thank you for your support, you're the best <33

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.696 words

MASTERLIST     PART 1

Despite knowing better, Tommy finds himself thinking of you.

Often, he wonders what you’re doing when you aren’t serving him drinks or cleaning his study, sweeping over the cracked spines of his books to clear away the dust that has settled on the pages over the years due to the lack of use and polishing the deep mahogany of his desk until his reflection stares back at him, punishing him with a deadly stare for the secrets he keeps buried in the back of his head. Still, his mirror knows. No matter how many cigarettes he smokes, how many glasses of whiskey he downs, he finds his thoughts inevitably returning to you.

Memories of you flood his mind at times when he’s trying to focus on business, the scent of your perfume and the warmth of your hand grazing his, the spark of desire glinting in your eyes whenever his gaze met yours, wondering, hoping, praying that one day, he’d reciprocate your feelings. For the longest time, he had tried to ignore his longing for you because he didn’t want to ruin you — you’re young and sweet, so gentle that his heart threatens to burst at the seams whenever you offer him a timid smile and brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear and he’s—

Well, he carries the scars of death on his body as a constant reminder of what he truly is. A monster, no matter how beloved.

But even when you aren’t in the room, your presence still seems to linger around him, and sometimes he feels as if he could stretch his scarred hands out into the empty space and find you reaching back for him. It’s a blessing and a curse at the same time, to yearn for someone he can’t have and it has begun to form into something akin to anger, growing like a tumor in his chest and draining him of all sanity.

And see, a part of him is tempted to get rid of it in the most violent way possible, find a valve and let the rage seep out of his body as if it were blood spilling from an open wound before he finally loses his fuckin’ mind. Because it hurts more than it should, to love someone as he loves you, it pulls his skin too tight around his joints and makes his bones feel more like explosives hidden beneath his flesh, ready to blow at any given moment and-

Ah, but only in your absence.

That’s the other side speaking, the side he didn’t know still existed — his mother’s son, the boy he once was before he went to France and faced the horrors of war, who cared about others in a way that always left him broken, Perhaps, that boy died back then, down in the tunnels but his ghost has followed him back and haunts him in moments of utter silence. Tommy usually ignores his cries and whimpers, but sometimes, he listens. Don’t let her see you, he whispers, frail hands tugging on the sleeve of his jacket, don’t let her see your anger.

Tommy makes a silent promise to the boy who has fallen hopelessly in love with you.

He breaks it soon after.

Of course, it’s not your fault. No, you’re as sweet as the sugar cubes he fed his horse this morning, dutifully serving his brothers their drinks and fulfilling every request he directs at you without an ounce of hesitation, yet he somehow finds you to be a nuisance on this evening.

Perhaps it’s your voice, he thinks, soft and smooth as you mumble ‘As you wish, Mr. Shelby’ and lean over his broad shoulder to pour him his second drink and suddenly, he’s dangerously aware of the heat your body radiates, the close proximity between him and you. Maybe it’s your hand ghosting over the length of his arm as you set another plate loaded with delicious food on the dinner table that keeps distracting him, that keeps setting his skin on fire.

Even your dress seems to be shorter today and puts your legs on full display when you walk, skirts swishing around your plush thighs with every step you take. The palms of his hands itch with the urge to touch you and his eyes roam endlessly over your figure, can’t seem to let you out of sight for even a moment. Fuck, he curses himself for the desire that burns through his veins like the alcohol he tastes on the back of his throat and devours him whole.

Still, he perseveres.

Until his brothers begin to flirt with you. Of course, Tommy knew they would take a liking in you and, just as he expected, you had them wrapped around your finger in a blink of an eye - it only took a sweet smile and a curtsy, the very same smile that follows him into his dreams every night.

But even though he’s clever enough to predict what’s going to happen in any situation he finds himself in (roughly, he’s been wrong many times) and cunning enough to beat his enemies at their own games (barely, he’s danced with death too often to count), he didn’t expect you to fall for any of their advances.

They’re idiotic brutes, especially when it comes to girls they’re trying to fuck and Thomas never cared much for their half-assed attempts at getting into a woman’s knickers. Still, as he watches you from across the room, he feels his anger resurfacing — a black hound baring his teeth and scratching at the inside of his chest like he just caught the coppery scent of fresh blood.

And it’s not your fault, he tells himself bitterly, but the lighthearted laughter escaping you at one of John’s jokes and the blush covering your cheeks after every compliment he tells you makes it harder to contain this uncontrollable violence he holds against no one but himself. Even the little twirl you do so innocently when Arthur whistles unashamedly seems to drive him to the very edge of his sanity and the whispers of the boy begging him to hide it, to restrain it seems to drown out in the sound of his blind rage tearing through the chains of his self-control.

No, you’re supposed to smile only at him and no one else in this god-forsaken room, even if it’s his own family occupying each seat at the table.

In his peripheral vision he can see you walk past Finn, can see Linda tensing up beside Arthur, can smell her disgust as she throws you a dirty look and Tommy opens his mouth to tell her to fuck off, but thinks better of it when his youngest brother suddenly wraps his hand around your wrist. With a grin, he pulls you closer and brushes a loose curl behind your ear, then mutters something that causes you to giggle quietly before you lean down to plant a kiss on his freckled cheek.

And despite all his efforts, Tommy feels something inside him snap.

His cutlery clatters against his plate. It’s loud enough to gather the attention of everyone present — his brothers whip around and you gasp quietly, immediately straightening your back to loom at him seated at the head of the dining table.

His gaze is unwavering, his expression cold and unreadable to his entire family except for Polly who seems to be quite entertained by his theatrics, though so far she hasn’t spoken up to call him out. Perhaps she’s curious about his intentions, but judging by the way her eyes wander to you standing there on the other side like a deer caught in headlights he figures she already knows more than she lets on.

He couldn’t care less. When you finally dare to meet his eyes, after a moment of palpable tension, he’s certain to catch a flicker of bold amusement in your gaze before you rush to his side.

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Blindly, he reaches out for you and in an instant, his palm finds the curve of your spine. His fingers trace along your back and dig into the fabric of your dress, pulling you an inch closer and keeping you there like a helpless kitten grasped by the neck.

It’s enough to make you curse under your breath, a string of foul words he never heard of you before and Tommy finds that he can sense the stuttering beat of your heart behind your shoulder blades — it gives him a strange satisfaction, the knowledge that he has so much power over you and although he never dared to taste it to the fullest on the tip of his tongue, he silently thanks his brothers for giving him the final push to claim what should have belonged to him since the beginning.

“I believe I left my cigarettes in my study. Will you be a good girl and get them for me, love?” It’s not a casual question. No, the syllables are drenched with a sort of sharpness only his enemies get to hear right before he puts the six feet under the cold earth, a subtle threat wrapped in false courtesy that causes you to tremble with fear and anticipation in his tight grasp.

“Go on.” When he finally nudges you towards the door and watches you sway out of the room, tender hands fiddling with the hem of your skirt and nearly stumbling over your feet, he can’t help but chuckle under his breath.

There’s a hunger inside him, a ravenous craving to take what is his, to make you squirm beneath his body and hear you cry out for mercy. His anger has taken over in a way he never experienced before, but he can feel it scorching hot in the pit of his stomach, can feel it settle at his feet in the form of the bloodhound that he has tried to lock away in his ribcage for his entire life — he runs his fingers through the raven fur and whispers the name of his next prey into his ears.

Your name.

[alcoholfreenayeon]

girl i’m like saaaur in love with your hcs! can you do short fic please? my girlfriend and i have been together for 3 weeks now and i want a oneshot to celebrate. do you know so high school? its taylor swift. if you can use it for a ryujin x yeji paring would be sweet. it hers and mines bias. thanks girl!

Be in love

CW: Yeji x Ryujin, fluff

A/N: It’s done, a bit longer than I wanted but I hope it didn’t feel too much of a wait😭🙂‍↕️. Congratulations to you and your gf🫳. I tried to give it the so high school vibe but idk in the end🙂‍↕️. Anyways hope you like it!

“Come on! I’ll teach you”, Ryujin insisted on teaching Yeji how to play the game.

“Ahnnn, you just want me to learn so you can beat me every time”, Yeji protested playfully pushing Ryujin.

Ryujin giggles, “Nooo, I promiseee, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Yeji sighs with a smile, rolling her eyes, “Fine…”

“Yes, now press the…you got it”, Ryujin smiled as she watched Yeji grasp the basics.

“It’s not as hard as I thought”, Yeji admits with a smile.

“Because you have such a good teacher”, Ryujin teases.

Yeji chuckles and tilts her head, “Oh really, well, you know that the student surpasses the teacher.”

Ryujin holds back a smile and raises her brows, “is that so, let’s put that to the test…”

They begin their duel, Yeji surprisingly taking the offensive and looking like she’s about to win. Her face focused and the inevitable feeling of victory beginning to surround her.

Ryujin, plays calmly, her face suppressing a smile and snarky but impressed comments follow out as Yeji nearly wins. But then, Ryujins character all of a sudden does a series of moves which Yeji cannot keep up with and loses.

“Yay! I win”, Ryujin cheers, smiling confidently and mischievously.

“What….”, Yeji looks at the screen in disbelief, “I was about to win….”

“Well”, Ryujin begins, pretending to be nonchalant and innocent, “those were actually the special moves, I didn’t teach you about them because I thought it might be too complicated for my, naive student”.

Yeji side eyes Ryujin, folding her arms and facing away, “Cheater, I’m not playing with you again.”

Ryujin breaks into laughter and leans to hug Yeji who doesn’t react, keeping her arms crossed. “Come on be mad baby. I’ll teach you how to do that and then we can have a rematch.”

Yeji narrows her eyes, “So I can find out that there is a counter for that as well right.”

Ryujin begins to laugh again, hugging her tighter, “Ok, ok, I’ll teach you everything.”

After an hour of practicing, dueling and frustration, Yeji still couldn’t beat and Ryujin and gave up.

“I give up, it’s a dumb game anyway”, Yeji pouts.

Ryujin gives her a hug and continues playing until she progresses a few levels further and gets stuck and frustrated quickly since it’s so sudden and surprising for her and after 6 or 7 tries she puts her controller down and folds her arms, a sour expression on her face, “You are right, it is a stupid game.”

Yeji chuckles and hugs her tightly before kissing her cheek, “Let me try once, maybe I’ll beat the boss.”

Ryujin sighs, “Baby, I was struggling even after focusing so much so I don’t think you’d stand a chance”, she tries to say gently.

Yeji rolls her eyes and scoffs, “watch me.”

Yeji begins trying to beat the boss, replicating what Ryujin tried and begins to lose the fight almost immediately. She retries while Ryujin somewhat smugly but also defeatedly explains.

“See, it doesn’t work, maybe I missed something before but there’s no way to-ah…you already used your specials and…..beat him?”, Ryujin’s jaw drops as Yeji turns to look at her equally shocked.

Soon that shock turns to a smug glee and Yeji jumps happily, “Yea! I beat it.”, her tone turns smug, “I guess that means I really am better than you.”

Ryujin looks at her in disbelief and begins to defend herself, “Of course not! I beat you everytime. This level doesn’t count!”

The two of them bickering and bantering like they always do, before somehow ending up snuggled against each as they watch a movie. Warm, snug and happy in each other’s embrace as they watch the screen with full attention….

[raineandsky]

#56

tw: implied torture, implied violence

The villain makes a run for it.

They would, anyway, if they weren’t limping. A nasty gash in their leg is slowing them down, and with the way this evening is going it won’t even get time to stop bleeding before it doesn’t matter anymore.

Things are changing. Villainy used to pay well, had long prison sentences at worst. Now, fuck, now—

The villain’s coat catches on the decorative metal swirl of a nearby bench. A string of ugly curses fall out of their mouth as they turn back to pull at it, praying that the fabric will just untangle itself. They don’t have time, fuck, not now, please not now—

“[Villain],” a voice calls from the end of the road, like someone spotting an old friend. A figure casually meanders towards them, receiving another series of equally undignified and justified expletives. The figure steps closer, closer, closer.

The villain yanks at the hem in one final desperate attempt to free themself. The fabric chooses then to rip loudly, throwing them to the cold pavement mercilessly. They scramble to right themself. The fall has wasted precious seconds. The figure has closed the space uncomfortably between them, even though they know it means nothing.

Fuck, they’re so tired. They got into a fight they realised too late they couldn’t win. They fled the scene in the hopes that they could return to their base and recover. Their enemy didn’t give them the time of day. They’ve been tailing the villain for almost ten minutes. Not getting too close, not chasing them. Just following.

“I feel like a tiger or something,” the other says casually, though the villain can barely hear them over their own panicked, erratic breathing, “and I’m just waiting for my prey to get tired and lay down.”

They laugh—they fucking laugh. Heroes are fucking sadistic now. They don’t have long anymore. They’re exhausted, hurt, fuck, they’re scared. Terrified. They’ve heard about the fates of some of the more recently disappeared villains. They don’t want to go the same way as them. They can’t.

“[Villain], come on,” the hero calls again, and the villain tries desperately to block them out. They’re horrifyingly close now, just close enough to send a chill down their spine. “You’re making this a big thing that could’ve been over ten minutes ago.”

Panic is flooding everything, forcing the villain to keep moving despite the fact they can’t, they can’t. Every part of them is trembling, forcing them to hone in on the echoing click of the hero’s shoes against the concrete behind them. They’re still keeping their distance, waiting for the villain to make a wrong move before truly closing in. It– it’s fucked up. The hero’s like those killer whales that toy with seals for hours before they inevitably eat them.

The adrenaline can’t keep them going forever. They take a step and their knees buckle, sending them tumbling onto the jagged concrete again. Gravel digs into their palms. They know the moment they hit the ground that they won’t be able to get back up.

That doesn’t stop them trying. They let their hands feel the sharp edges of the pavement below them as they desperately try to pull themself up. They move tediously to get their legs under them, but they can’t. Fuck, they can’t, they’re trapped here.

The footsteps stop a little way away, like the hero wants to respect their space. What a load of horseshit that is. “[Villain],” they try again, and the gentleness of their tone is almost believable. “[Villain], please, stop making this difficult.”

The villain laughs, a sort of pained, choking sound. Tears are threatening to spill, blurring their vision. “Oh, it’s difficult for you?” they demand, their voice scratching in their throat. “It’s hard to kill someone who doesn’t want to die, huh? How tragic that you had to look someone in the eye and see their last emotion be– be fear.”

Those footsteps start clicking again, and every survival instinct kicks in at once. “N–No, fuck, no, I’m sorry—”

A hand digs through their hair, harshly wrenching their head back and earning a raspy cry. They don’t have the strength to stop it anymore. They can’t stop it. Fuck, it’s scary. They want to go home.

“Look, [Villain], it’s nothing personal, a’ight?” the hero says, pointedly ignoring the wet streaks already painting the villain’s cheeks. “It’s business. You know how it is.”

“I’m– I’m sorry, please, I– I’ll never do it again, I swear I—”

The hero shushes them like they’re calming a thrashing animal and not a human they’re about to execute in the street. The scrape of an unfolding metallic blade cuts the air, the sound soft like it was meant to be a secret. The villain makes one last vain attempt to free themself. Their lack of energy only lets them grasp desperately at the hero’s hand in their hair.

Something cold rests against their neck. A despondent sob escapes them. They don’t want to die. They can’t die. Fuck, there’s no way out. They’re going to die.

“Hey, hey, [Villain], it’s okay.” The hero’s voice is hushed. “I’m not gonna kill you, a’ight? This is all just part of the song and dance. You made it difficult, so I have to act like I at least tried to catch you.”

The villain chokes back another sob rising in their throat. “Y–You tried?”

The hero hums absently. “Yeah, agency’s always gonna wanna see a seasoned villain on their knees, right? If I can take you in, we both look how the agency wants.”

What? No, this isn’t right. Heroes always kill villains. They think back as much as the terrified fog in their mind will let them. The disappearing villains. The heroes. No, no, they can’t be—

“You and I are gonna head back to the agency now, a’ight?” the hero continues. They finally let go of the villain, letting them collapse to the ground again. “I have some friends that’d really like to see you. You’ll have a little interrogation, tell us what you know. Easy.”

The villains before, they– they always disappeared into the agency first. For weeks. They were always found bloody and broken afterwards. Fuck, god, no—

The hero bends down to them, their hand latching onto the back of their coat. The villain makes another futile attempt to free themself, but they don’t have the energy to try anymore. They’d cry if they had the strength to.

“[Hero], please…” Their voice comes out in uneven stammers. “Please, I– I swear I’ll never, ever do this– any of this again, please, I– I can’t—”

“Of course you won’t,” the hero says casually. “Agency’s a good place. You’ll come out a changed person.”

Fuck, as if the villain doesn't know that. They wish the hero had just run that fucking blade across their throat. It would’ve been better than wherever they’re about to go.