#I feel like a fucking real estate agent

[my-chemical-rot]

Every day I wake up and desperately try convincing my mutuals to listen to GWAR

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I don't think I'm ever gonna see the world the same way again

[chaosordoffl]

trying to create a European based name but half them mfs biblical

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[silencesscreams]

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

-

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

-

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

-

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames�� you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy pt. 2 | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

part 1 | part 3

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Charles never responded to your text, leaving you wondering just what he meant. Lying alone in bed, you run through every interaction you’d had with Charles, slowly piecing together piece by piece until a revelation knocks the air from your lungs. 

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2018. The first time you’d met Charles Leclerc. You’d heard stories from Max about the infamous man, an old rival and a new friend of your boyfriends. He’d finally be given the chance to move up to F1, joining Sauber alongside Ericsson. 

You’d wandered off from Max, leaving him with a soft kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his hand as you went for a walk alongside the garages. Not looking where you were going, you walked straight into a sturdy body, a hand wrapping around your waist to prevent you from falling. 

Looking up in shock to apologise to the person you’d just slammed into, you couldn’t help but freeze at the eyes staring back at you. Molten gold surrounded by sea foam green. 

Still young and clean shaven, you couldn’t deny Charles Leclerc was objectively gorgeous. 

You apologised profusely, Charles brushing every sorry away as he made sure you were steady on your feet before slowly removing his hand from around your waist. He’d asked if you were a journalist or a technician for one of the teams, lips turned upwards in what you now recognise as a flirty smirk.

Before you had a chance to reply, Max appeared behind the two of you, lips pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he welcomed Charles to the paddock. Feeling his eyes roam over the two of you, green as fresh cut lime and just as bittersweet as they linger on Max’s hand that had replaced his on your waist, he responds jovially to Max. 

Max introduced you as a real estate agent and then his girlfriend, something you appreciated as he knew you didn’t like when people only saw you as an extension of him. 

You watched as Charles’ demeanour changed, slight enough that only someone who was paying close attention to him would notice. He greeted you politely, the smirk gone and replaced by a smile more suited to a first time meeting with his friend’s girlfriend. 

His race engineer soon called him away, the three of you exchanging goodbyes as Max directed you back to his garage. Unable to resist, you look back over your shoulder, only to find Charles already looking back. 

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👤 maxverstappen1, danielricciardo Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 298,718 others

y/nstagram yeehaw ! 🤠 lovely to be down in texas with the bull boys 💙

maxverstappen1 even when i cant see your face, you’re still gorgeous x ↳ y/nstagram you like me so much its embarrassing xx ↳ maxverstappen1 y’all see how my girlfriend treats me?? ↳ fan yes humble him queen x ♥️ y/nstagram

redbullracing lovely to have you with us y/n! ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo save a horse ride a cowboy ↳ y/nstagram ??!! ↳ danielricciardo I MEANT MAX!!! I MENAT  MAX!!! ↳ maxverstappen1 you fucking better had ↳ fan literal pr nightmare ↳ redbullracing tell us about it!

charles_leclerc yeehaw! 🤠 ↳ y/nstagram see he gets it! Welcome to the paddock charles! 🥳 no inchidents you hear me 🤨🫵 ↳ charles_leclerc i am never living that down… ↳ maxverstappen1 not if i can help it!

fan but can she ride? ↳ maxverstappen1 very well ↳ y/nstagram redbullracing can someone take away his social media privileges ↳ redbullracing we tried… he bit the social media intern  ↳ fan max was totally the child who bit ankles  ↳ maxverstappen1 defamation??? ↳ y/nstagram true though 

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2020. It was the first gala of the year and you and Max were inseparable. His hand clasped your slightly clammy one, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand as a way to calm your nerves. He knew you like the back of his hand and was well aware of how much you hated these large galas, people clambering for the attention of the rising rookie, often disregarding you with a simple greeting before you faded into the shadow of future world champion Max Verstappen. 

You squeezed his hand once as you pulled yourself away from the group of people surrounding your boyfriend, slipping away to find the bar. As you plopped yourself down into the stool by the counter, you noticed you were not alone. A lone body sat beside you, hand tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. Looking up, you found yourself once again staring at Charles Leclerc. 

Over the 2 years since he’d joined the paddock, you’d only ever spoken in passing, normally accompanied by Max who kept the conversation flowing. Charles was nothing if not amicable, often engaging you in funny stories about their karting times, correcting any biased stories Max had told you. 

Those once bright eyes now seemed dull, worn down by the start of his 2020 season. You’d seen interviews of how proud he was to join Ferrari, wearing the red jersey with pride. But following incident after incident, whenever you passed him in the paddock, he looked more and more desolate. 

The two of you stared at each other before you glanced away, noting his empty glass. Calling over the bartender, you order a Mojito and another whiskey. Charles thanks you with a smile, tapping his fingers against the countertop as his glass is replaced with a full one. 

Not wanting to sit in silence, you ask how he’s feeling. The response is a shrug of his shoulders and a sip of his drink. Not good then. You raise your glass, tinking the edge of it against his before taking a quick drink. 

Roaming your eyes across the crowd just past Charles’ head, you take note of Daniel and Max lining up shots for the 2019 rookies. You laugh at Lando’s wide eyes and Max’s wink as he catches your eyes across the bar, catching Charles’ attention. He follows your line of sight, joining in with the laughter as George full body shudders at the first shot of what was probably tequila. 

The naivety of the 2019 rookies to trust your boyfriend and his best friend with alcohol breaks the last of the icy barrier between you and Charles, the two of you engaging in a genial conversation around the younger men. Charles recalls his own poor decision of letting Daniil and Daniel guide him to the bar during the 2018 gala, the story missing chunks as in his own words, his memory from that night was totally fucked. 

The conversation flows nicely between the two of you after that, topic after topic being nicely segued by the drinks repeatedly replaced in front of you. You learnt about his family, childhood pets, his racing dreams. In return you told him about your family, how you and Max met, and your blossoming career. 

Sebastian soon approaches the two of you, slinging an arm around yours and Charles’ shoulders. He ruffles the younger man's hair, nudging you as Charles grumbles playfully, hand coming up to fix the chestnut mess. He mentions a new sponsor that’s here, resting a hand on his chest jokingly as he apologises for pulling Charles away from your riveting conversation. You wave him off, waving goodbye to the two as they head off to hopefully secure more money for Ferrari. 

Watching them go, you see Charles turn back, smile soft and warm as he sends one last wave your way. Someone replaces his spot next to you, hand reaching out to interlink with yours. The feel of familiar calluses under your palm brings you back to your boyfriend who was looking to see what had grabbed your attention. 

An offhand comment about how he was sorry for being gone so long but he saw Seb at the bar and knew he would take care of you. The room was dark enough that you could understand how he could mistake the back of Charles for Sebastian, but for some reason you didn’t understand, you couldn’t bring yourself to correct the man. 

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👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 301,819 others

y/nstagram such a good time at the gala with my gorgeous boy 💙

maxverstappen1 gorgeous x ↳ y/nstagram 😘😘 xx ↳ redbullracing our it couple 💙 ↳ alex_albon me and lily are crying in the corner thanks ↳ y/nstagram the it couple is me and lily lbr xx ↳ lilymhe i’m in love with you  ↳ alex_albon i should have kept my mouth shut 

sebastianvettel Beautiful as always y/n x ↳ y/nstagram thank you seb! Was good seeing you last night x

fan she’s everything and he’s just… there 

fan no cheesy comment from max? 👀 ↳ fan he literally called her gorgeous shut up 

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2021. Abu Dhabi. The year Max made history and ended Lewis’ world champion streak. It had been a difficult year for the two of you. Cancelled dates and a flat bought in Milton Keynes, sacrifices in your relationship made for this very moment. You could barely remember half of the race, too busy chewing the acrylic off your nails in stress. The engineers crowded him, hauling him onto their shoulders as champagne covered the entire garage. You’d barely been able to reach out a hand to pat his leg before he was carried off to the podium. 

Standing below, tears spilled down your cheeks at the sight. Your boyfriend, in his usual spot at the top of the podium, hands clasped eagerly around the World Championship trophy. The Red Bull team around you patted your shoulders comfortingly, some of them having to wipe away their own tears. He looks past the crowd, eyes passing yours briefly without much recognition. You blamed it on the adrenaline, knowing his mind was a hazy mess as the reality of what had happened dawned on him. 

Following the podium, he’d been whisked away by his team, press conference and the media paddock waiting eagerly to meet the new champion. You sat patiently in hospitality, welcoming warm wishes from whoever passed you. Alex had come bundling over, throwing his arms around you in congratulations. Laughing loudly as he squeezed you tighter, you hugged the reserve driver close to you. 

The wait was killing you, time dragging slower than ever. You decided to walk along to the media paddock to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. There he stood, in all his glory. Journalists threw question after question at him, microphone cords stretched to their limit as they all vied for his attention. He’d given his thanks, to the team, to his parents, to Christian himself. No mention of you. Again, you put it down to adrenaline, but something settled heavily in the base of your stomach. 

You began to worry that you hadn’t done enough, despite going along with everything he had thrown your way this year. Agreeing to him moving to Milton Keynes for the year, flying across to him when you had some leave from work. The missed dates, declining phone calls and texts from his side. You never failed to miss a race, to congratulate him after every win and support him through every bad moment. 

Brushing the sinking feeling off, you look across at the other drivers being interviewed. Most of the reporters were by your boyfriend's side, but some stragglers took this opportunity to catch the others as they made their way through the paddock. 

You’re startled as your eyes lock onto a pair staring back at you. Charles was mid interview, nodding along to whatever the journalist was saying. You smiled at him, mouthing your congratulations on getting into the points. He returned the smile, mouth hung lopsided as he responded to the question he was just asked. 

A Red Bull employee calls out for you, letting you know Max was leaving. You nodded towards the Monageqsue as a goodbye, turning to follow the employee. Your back burned at the feeling of emerald eyes following you. 

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👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 509,174 others

y/nstagram my love, my light, my champion… forever proud of you for all you have and will continue to achieve. Drink it in, my dear, this is all for you ❤️

fan need someone to love me the way y/n loves max

fan the maxcheco hug 🥺

fan y/n supporting max is everything to me, true love fr

fan did no one else catch how he didn’t even hug her or anything? Like??? If i was him, she’d be the first person i go to ↳ fan i mean… i think they’re only together for PR rn … he’s also moved to milton keynes whilst she’s still in monaco, kinda dodgy ↳ fan he probably moved for work, also lets not speculate on peoples relationships pls and thx xx

fan no max comment? In the trenches rn  ↳ fan he liked though! ↳ fan bare minimum  ↳ fan dude he just won his first world championship he’s probably busy

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2022. The beginning of the end for you and Max. You suppose, looking back, the end had been looming long before then. Gone was the sweet, kind Max you’d fallen for, instead replaced by a beast. Win after win, pole after pole, championship after championship. His move to Milton Keynes became permanent, whilst you chose to stay in Monaco for your job. You still had Jimmy and Sassy to keep you company, a reminder of when life had been good. 

You’d bought the two bengals after you’d officially moved into Max’s flat. Sassy had been a daddy’s girl but Jimmy was yours through and through. Following you everywhere you go, meowing constantly if he was ever forced to leave your side. 

He was sitting beside you, one paw stretched out and resting against your leg when a text from Max came through. You already knew what it was going to say. Some excuse as to why he couldn’t make it back to Monaco between races. You sighed, reaching out to run your hand down the soft fur on Jimmy’s back. He purrs appreciatively, kneading gently against your skin. 

Red Bull had sent you the tickets for the next Grand Prix and to be honest, you felt like skipping it altogether. It was midway through the season, and despite attending every race, it was like you didn’t even exist to Max. 

Argument after argument continued, you tried to get across how horrible Max made you feel when he ignored you, him rebutting by saying you weren’t being supportive enough of him. Nights spent thousands of miles apart, phones silent on bedside tables and muffled cries from your end filling the solemn night. 

You didn’t bother to reply to his latest excuse, instead grabbing your keys and heading out the front door, dropping a small kiss to Jimmy and Sassy’s heads. They had ran out of food, and without even having to look in your cabinets, you knew you had to. 

The supermarket was a mere 10 minutes from your flat, the air warm and calm as you trailed down the pavement. The kind lady who ran the cafe on the corner greeted you warmly, pressing 2 kisses to your cheeks. You promise to come see her tomorrow, knowing she would have a latte and croissant waiting for you on your arrival. 

Two aisles down in the supermarket and as you reach for the cereal on the top shelf, a hand pops out the corner of your eye and grabs a box too. You hear it drop into your cart, looking up to a now familiar face. 

Charles smiles back at you gently, shopping basket in hand. The two of you didn’t speak, instead choosing to walk in comfortable silence around the rest of the store. Charles grabbed the oat milk you like, and you grabbed the cereal bars you saw him often chomping down on between qualifiers. 

At the tills, he loads your shopping onto the belt for you, adding the three items he had got for himself behind. As you loaded the last few bits into the large shopping bags you’d brought along with you, the card reader behind you beeps. As you look behind, you see Charles pick up the receipt and chuck his three items into the tote bag over his shoulder. 

You tried to argue that you could pay for yourself whilst thanking him at the same time, but Charles simply shrugged, walking out of the supermarket. You follow behind, loading the bags onto your arms as you bump the cart back into its spot with your hip. Charles watches you, a smirk on his face as you struggle to distribute the bags evenly enough to allow you to walk home. 

Chuckling, he grabbed two of the bags, moving along to his car. You followed sheepishly, thanking him for the ride home as he loads the bags into the minimal space in the boot. Gratitude shrugged off once again, he held the door open for you to slide in.

He offered to bring the shopping up for you when you reached your apartment building but you gratefully declined, not wanting to take up any more of his time. Telling you to say hi to Jimmy and Sassy, he watched you walk into the front door, leaving only once he saw you enter the elevators. 

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Liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt and 498,018 others

y/nstagram just a mum and her two (fur) babies 🧡🐱

fan !!!!! jimmy and sassy sighting!!!!!

fan which is which??? ↳ y/nstagram jimmy in the second pic and sassy in the third!! <3 ↳ fan they’re so cute 😭

francisca.c.gomes jimmy is SLUMPED ↳ y/nstagram hasn’t left my side all day, it’s tiring work being a mummys boy 😋

charles_leclerc did you tell them i said hi????? ↳ y/nstagram yes charles, i told them you said hi 🙄 ↳ charles_leclerc and what did they say? ↳ y/nstagram this is so stupid ↳ y/nstagram meow meow, meow meow meow, meowwwww - Jimmy and Sassy 🐱🐱 ↳ charles_leclerc my favourite kitties!!! I love you too 💖 ↳ fan charles is such a silly lil guy

fan y/n pls tell us what you ask for at the hairdressers!!! ↳ y/nstagram at the moment its a root touch up and occasional high and low lights, but when sometimes i throw in a chunky root ❤️ ↳ fan an ANGEL!!!!

fan not even a max like… on pics of his own CATS …. I wanna cry ↳ fan ngl i think you’re onto something there. 

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2023. The year you had decided Max and well and truly fallen out of love with you. The two of you couldn’t go two minutes without an argument, hurtful words bouncing off the four walls of what used to be a happy home. 

Two championships under his belt, and he was well on his way to a third. It wasn’t that he had changed entirely, the sweet Max you once knew was still there, he just seemed to hide away whenever the two of you were alone. 

He would still dote on Jimmy and Sassy, would approach the lady who owns the cafe with a kind smile and warm words, would run off to padel to be with his friends, often posting instagram stories of him smiling and laughing with the same people he fought with week on and week off on the track. 

He’d finally decided to grace you with his presence, moving back to Monaco for a week between races as he was pretty much guaranteed the championship as long as he placed above 4th in the next 2 races, and knowing him, he would. 

You had thought this would be a chance to connect, a way to work through your issues and bring back the man you know and love. However, he had walked through the front door, greeted the fussing cats and gone straight through to the bedroom. You stood in the kitchen, a homemade meal still simmering away on the stove. 

The sound of the shower pulled you from your spiralling thoughts, plating up the meal so it was ready for Max when he had finished. You’d nipped out that morning, especially to buy the ingredients for his favourite meal, sweating away in the kitchen as the private jet he owned flew from Milton Keynes to your home. 

Max left the bathroom, walking into the kitchen. He was fully dressed once again, cologne pungent from when you stood nearly 10 feet away. He barely glanced over the meal, grabbing his keys and throwing a quick see you later over his shoulder. 

As soon as the door shut, the dam inside you burst. Tears flowed uncontrollably down your cheeks, sobs choked and tore their way out of your throat, the sound primal and steeped in sorrow. Crouching down, you wrapped your arms around your bent knees, an almost upright fetal position. Jimmy and Sassy crowded you, confused purrs rumbling deep in their throats as they tried to nudge your head away from the home it had found between your knees. 

You had no idea how long you’d stayed there, body rocking back and forth ever so slightly as a way to self soothe. By the time you lifted your head, the sky was a mottled mix of reds and oranges. You moved on auto pilot, scraping the now cold dinner into tupperware, slotting them into the fridge and grabbing the bottle of white wine you’d put in there earlier to chill. 

A large glass sat beside you on the side table, body warm and safe under the blanket you had dragged from the back of the sofa. Scrolling through Twitter, you stopped for a moment as an F1 gossip page graced your screen. You’d normally swipe right past them, knowing they were onto the burning embers of yours and Max’s relationship, making up shocking titles to draw fans attention. This time, between the two of you, only Max was the headline.

You didn’t know what to think. Despite the growing tensions ontrack, the two men had always been friendly outside of the race cars. The tweet had gathered plenty of attention, already having nine thousand reposts and quote tweets. You pulled up your texts, hesitating as you hovered over Max’s name. He’d barely even glanced your way after 2 months apart, why should you worry about him now? 

Pulling up the old text thread with Charles, you take a moment to try and think about what to say. Would he think you were trying to spy for Max? Or would he think you were just digging around for the drama? Mind wandering, you managed to type out the bare bones of a text before your phone chimed, Charles beating you to it.  

You didn’t know why Charles was apologising. It wasn’t his fault your boyfriend fell out of love. 

Digesting his message, you willed yourself to cry, to scream, to cuss Max out to the quiet walls of your home. But nothing came. Numb to the feeling and drained from your previous breakdown, you stared at the blank wall ahead. You knew you should leave Max, all you were doing was hurting yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that would leave you all alone. 

Moving from the sofa to the door, you turned the deadbolt, sending Max a text to let him know to find somewhere else to stay that night. You were sure Lando or someone else would put him up. 

Falling into bed, you caught yourself hoping he’d find solace in the arms of another girl so you could use the excuse as a reason to end the horrible situation. Scolding your cruel mind, you turned your phone off and placed it face down on the bedside table, calling up the two cats who settled down either side of you. 

The ache in your chest kept you awake for a while, soon soothed as you remembered how Charles had defended you. How fucked up was it that the best friend of your boyfriend was the one who brought the first genuine smile in months to your face, his actions a calming balm across the festering cracks scattered across your heart. 

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liked by carmenmmundt, francisca.c.gomes and 10 others

y/npriv don't know, don't care

carmenmmundt you ok babe? ↳ y/npriv men... ↳ carmenmmundt ah you saw the tweet ↳ y/npriv yep... i'm chilling though, jim and sass are good company ↳ carmenmmundt want one more? ↳ y/npriv bring pastries pls and thank u x

francisca.c.gomes pierre chewed *** out in french after charles left, you should have seen his stupid face ↳ y/npriv tell pierre i said cheers x ↳ francisca.c.gomes he said thank you for giving a reason to shout at "fat head"

lilymhe can i come to the hangout 🥺 ↳ y/npriv ofc babygirl, the more the merrier x ↳ lilyzneimer i'm coming too then!!!! ↳ y/npriv ofc my lil sweetiepie 🩷

flavy.barla unbothered. moisturised. in my lane. focused. ↳ y/npriv don't think i didnt notice you omitting parts of the meme flavs ↳ flavy.barla well i'm not a liar... also i'll be there in 2 hours, este's driving me up ↳ y/npriv ugh a king x

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Dragging yourself back to the present, you pull in a shaky breath. Charles liked you. Charles had always liked you. And somewhere along the line, you’d ended up liking him too.

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a/n: part 2 is here! this will most definitely end up being a 2 parter, we're already at like 5k words 😭 let me know if you want to be added / removed from the taglist 🩷

taglist: @veryicyandspicey @oliviarodrigostan13 @fyegyall @inevesgf @brakingboundaries @boywondrgrayson @pand-de-pandora-blog @emily-b @barcelonaloverf1life @entr4p3 @asparklysoul @elia-the-bibliophile @ruebennett89 @sheslikeacurse @angywritesstuff @honethatty12 @hs-is-loml @krishasworld @velentine @weekendlusting @vintagefucksstuff @yourfreezing-hands @sinofwriting @cmleitora @ladyoflynx @zvrjkb @anuksunamon @sarahedwards16 @janeh22 @awritingtree @reguluscrystals

[jarofstyles]

Jarofstyles Fic Rec 2023 🪽

hello my loves! Here is our updated fic rec.

[some may be repeats of last year because we reread them!]

Also check out our fic rec account, @jarofstylesrecs for some we most definitely missed!

There are so many I want to put on here and I’ll update it again, but here we are! Let me know of any fics you recommend 🩷

WATTPAD-

Bambi- vanillasoy (or @queenofgraveyards here) (ceo soft H, in my top 5)

Flower- vanillasoy (bodyguard/grumpy h x sunshine ofc)

Devil’s Due- petite_cerise (classic dark!H)

Adonis- temptress_ (dark!H and fierce OFC)

Valhalla- temptress_ (Viking!H)

Baby Blue- theasstour (artist!H and model y/n)

Lucky Penny- alisonfelix (teacher h, soft, ofc finding herself)

Informed Consent- alisonfelix (college romance, absolutely tooth rotting fluff I’m obsessed)

One Night Stand- alisonfelix (short story, pregnancy one night stand plot. A lil angsty but cute)

Ladybug- _screamingcolour (50’s au, super cute)

Pirouette- _screamingcolour (ballerina ofc, so fucking cute it hurts)

Flower Girl- sushirrrry (idk how to describe but chef’s kiss)

Celestial- sushirrrry (WIP, it hurts but it feels good, nerdy h who loves the stars)

Wildflowers- latenightgab (assholeish tattoorry, single dad)

Jezebel- latenightgab (sugar daddy ceo x dancer teacher)

Office Hours- latenightgab (lawyer and professor H x student)

Pink Slip- stillhurtingstyles (plus size! Assistant y/n x boss h)

Always - styleslegend (my OG favorite fic, nerdy h x popular y/n, old but good)

A Lifetime With You- anenglishbird (supernatural au, witchy, adore it)

Inclination- peanutboyfriend (sexuality discovery, so good)

Aerial- peanutboyfriend (aerialist h and ofc, 60’s set, another top 10 fic)

1789- everlasts (period piece, just read it. French Revolution)

Breaking The Ice- sarbearfive (hockey!H)

Sail My Ridges- @1800titz (new but soooo fucking good. Piraterry, writing is phenomenal as usual)

The Devil is a Gentleman- @1800titz (again, writing is incredible. Kink heavy, lovely, bdsm club, masks, real estate agent H- just please read it)

Sinners Place- @shroombloomm (so fucking good, preistrry, all the good drama, 10/10)

Do I Wanna Know? - @eatyourhoneyh (trust me, stripper ofc. Obsessed)

Boston- witchysunflower (hockey h, cheating plot)

Haste- htownrry (pregnancy plot but unconventional, racer h, very good)

TUMBLR-

Prosecco- @moonchildstyles (older!H)

Gravity- @moonchildstyles (camboyrry)

Aster- @moonchildstyles (tattoorry grumpy sunshine)

Èlan- @moonchildstyles (bodyguardrry that pulled my heart strings)

firemanrry- @jawllines (softest H, made of sugar and the little puppy :( )

Ballerinarry- @jawllines (enemies to lovers, obsessed)

Young American- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (tattoo artists h and y/n, so well written)

Wolves- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (Wolfrry!!!)

A Good Fit- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (trust me, read)

LVRS CLUB- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (sex club slay)

Best Friend’s Dadrry- @gurugirl (exactly what it says. So good)

The Arrangement- @gurugirl (sugar daddy h!)

The Ex- @gurugirl (trusf me again)

The whole Knockout series- @freedomfireflies (yall don’t even know how feral this series makes me…)

404- @freedomfireflies (again obsessed, nerdy enemies chefs kiss)

Silk and Rope- @cupid-styles (dom/sub dynamic, so soft)

Only Angel- @cupid-styles (tattorry, experienced h, shy y/n)

Complicated Freak- @lukesaprince (best friends Dadrry is a weakness)

Rich- @lukesaprince (older! H, age gap,)

Mutually Beneficial - @cherryjuiceblues (Dom/sub dynamics, perfection!)

Could You Live With Just a Taste- @frioamor (Dom/sub, smut is mind blowing)

Love’s Divine- @atlafan (nanny!h omg)

Peaches & Cream- @atlafan (anything they write tbh)

You’re Someone I Just Want Around- @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy & @sunflowervolvimp3 (I put this every year bc I reread it every single year. I’m obsessed. My Roman Empire. I’ve never heard ‘like real people do’ the same since.)

Please You- @adorebeaa (again just trust me)?

Wolfrry- @adorebeaa (please I’m obsessed w this and the smut is incredible)

The Dark King- @shroombloomm (so so so so so good, dark obviously but I love it)

Achilles Heel- @angelisverba (I’m obsessed w their writing and plugrry but this smut is mind blowing)

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

Chapter One: I Know He's Crazy, But He's The One I Want

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking around, FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Kissing, Barely any plot, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content,

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Happy “The Tortured Poets Department” release! I couldn’t help but shriek with joy when I heard But Daddy I Love Him. Literally, dad best friend Joel Miller coded. I would like to thank @wheresarizona for dealing with my spam in her messages from me as I was yapping about the new album and gushing over her writing; she’s literally one of the best writers ever. That is a fact and I will die on that hill.

This fic is heavily inspired by all of the dad's best friend books and dbf!Joel Miller fics I have read over the years. It is with great honor (and a lot of fucking fear) to present to you this Frankenstein of all of my fav tropes!

Heads up, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

As you walk past the neighboring house, you observe the real estate agent meticulously placing the 'SOLD' banner onto the weathered for sale sign. A strange sense of satisfaction washes over you, knowing that someone has finally purchased the property.

Entering your home, you release a sigh of relief as the familiar comfort washes over you. With a casual toss, your keys and bag find their place on the hallway table. The urge to call out to your dad bubbles up, but it freezes in your throat when you're met with an unexpected sound drifting from his home office.

Your heart quickens as you peek inside, only to find your dad's best friend, Joel Miller, lounging on the plush brown lazy boy. His deep, resonant voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine even before you lay eyes on him.

Clutching the doorframe for support, you fight to steady your nerves. With trembling fingers, you manage to force a smile onto your lips, though it feels strained. "Hey, Dad. Hey… Joel," you manage to squeak, the mere sound of his name stirring a flurry of emotions within you.

The room feels stiflingly quiet as you wait for a response, the weight of Joel's gaze almost tangible. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his intense eyes meet yours. His attention feels almost palpable, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a rush of warmth through your body. With a low, almost imperceptible grunt of acknowledgment, Joel's gaze finally breaks away, leaving you breathless in his wake.

You try to avert your gaze out of sheer habit, but it's futile, like trying not to be drawn to the most captivating, exquisite sight in existence.

God, it's as if he's been carved from pure perfection, each time you lay eyes on him.

That same intense, brooding look he wore the day of your college graduation, late last year, still grips you. And it seems Joel's gaze has the same effect on your dad, eliciting a familiar reaction. With a quick double-take, your dad shoots a glance at his best friend before swiveling in his seat.

"Hey there, sweetheart, just catching up with Joel. He dropped by for a surprise visit," your dad starts, but he halts mid-sentence, noticing your undeniable reaction. Concern etches his features as he addresses you. "Honey?" he prompts, his voice laced with worry, as you struggle to find your voice for the umpteenth time in mere seconds.

Joel's gaze narrows, his jaw clenching as his intense scrutiny roams over you, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

As you cling to the doorframe, you can't help but notice the subtle movement of Joel's prominent Adam's apple, betraying his own unease.

Breaking the tension, your dad's nervous chuckle pierces the silence, attributing my apparent moodiness to your usual banter. He turns back to Joel, commenting on his friend's expression.

"What's going on with you two?" he quips, his tone shifting from light-hearted to serious in an instant. "Feels like there's some dirty secret between you," your dad adds, the jest evaporating from his voice. Yet, Joel remains unfazed by your dad's observation, his gaze still locked onto you as a faint smile curves his lips.

His lips curl into a smirk, accentuating the charming dimple that appears in his slightly scruffy beard whenever he smiles—a sight that never fails to tug at your heartstrings.

But as your dad's suspicion lingers in the air, Joel's demeanor shifts, yet you still struggle to connect the dots regarding why he's been giving you that look since graduation.

That day was meant to mark a pivotal moment in your life, celebrating the culmination of years of hard work in college. Yet, Joel's presence, the way he gazed at you, and the unexpected intensity of his hug during the congratulations... It's forever etched in your memory for reasons beyond the academic achievement.

And at the center of it all is one word: Joel.

He's a towering figure, a mix of solid muscle and the comforting softness of his belly. In the moment, you brushed off his tight embrace after receiving your diploma as merely the enthusiasm of the occasion.

But as you felt his whole body pressing right into yours during that hug, you knew it wasn’t your regular type of embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear. And though you didn’t catch his next words as clearly, you're certain he said something else that day. “…You feel so fuckin’ good….”

At least, that's what you've been convincing yourself he said. You recall gazing up into those big brown eyes, the same intense look he's giving you now, and wondering the same thing. How could an older, dangerously attractive man like Joel be even remotely interested in someone like you? Apart from being your dad’s best friend, he's more than twice your age and lives on the other side of the country with his daughter, Sarah.

You can almost picture the scandalized gasps of the single older women and ex-wives in your town, clutching their pearls and whispering, "What a mess," if you and Joel ever got together; if he was even remotely interested in you like that.

But you've replayed that scene in your mind every day since, and no matter how hard you try, there's just no denying your secret crush on him.

It all started long before college, your feelings for Joel simmering beneath the surface. Back then, you couldn't quite grasp what it was you felt for him. All you knew was that it felt right, and that feeling remains unchanged. Despite the nerves and shyness that being around him brings, there's another undeniable effect he has on you.

Like the overwhelming desire to sink back and beg him to indulge in things that his best friend's daughter probably shouldn't be fantasizing about. It's been a while since you last saw Joel, but he still exudes the same charm and looks even more handsome and fit than before, thanks to his job in construction as a contractor.

And when you receive that same look from him today, when your dad even jokes about his suspicions, you know Joel remembers that day too. The intensity in his eyes mirrors the moment he pulled you close, a memory etched as your most cherished moment so far.

"Well, I reckon’ my presence here might come as a bit of a surprise," Joel rasps, his gaze locked with yours as he emits a low chuckle for your dad's benefit. Unnoticed by your dad, Joel shoots you a sly wink, and you watch as your dad's tension melts away. He's relieved to know he wasn't imagining things, and undoubtedly thrilled once he hears Joel's news. "I'm moving here, right next door with Sarah. Tommy should be dropping her off here tomorrow," he announces with enthusiasm, but you feel the pit of your stomach drop.

Joel... here? For good? Oh, fuck.

Your dad erupts into loud whoops, raising both hands in the air. "It's about time, buddy! I knew you were keeping something from me," he adds, turning to you once again. "You were aware of this?" he asks, furrowing his brow with a hint of confusion. 

"You knew Joel and Sarah were coming to town, didn’t you?" Dad repeats, finally grinning like a child at the news. Smiling like a dad who's pushed aside any notion of his best friend showing interest in his only daughter. And you catch a sly grin on Joel’s face as he comes to your rescue. "Oh, I mentioned I might pay a visit. Buttercup here wasn't aware of the specifics or that Sarah and I would be relocatin’ back here," he explains to your dad.

But when Joel smoothly fibs to your dad, insinuating that you were aware of his impending move back to town, even though it caught you completely off guard, he seals an instant and secret pact between the two of you with a single glance. His deep brown eyes wink at you, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You realize you're in deeper trouble than you initially thought. And strangely enough, it's the kind of trouble you welcome with open arms.

In that fleeting moment, a silent understanding passes between you and Joel. With just a wink from him, your chest flutters with excitement, and a wave of anticipation rushes through you, leaving you feeling unexpectedly aroused at the prospect of having him nearby all the time. You're fully committed now, Joel's lie to his best friend serving as a shield for both of you, deflecting attention away from the undeniable tension between you.

"Sarah called last week," you fabricate, deciding to play along with Joel's deception. "As we were chatting, Joel mentioned something about visiting. It must've slipped my mind to mention it to you," you explain to your dad, hoping he'll buy into the white lie. Joel's low growl of contentment as he leans back, causing the leather chair to creak, reassures you that he approves of your little ruse.

Your dad's elation at the news of his best friend's return to their quaint little town is palpable, enough to overshadow any scolding he might have had for your omission about Sarah and Joel's supposed call.

But the truth remains: Sarah never called, and Joel's mysterious behavior is raising more questions than answers.

A surprise visit is one thing, but the intensity of Joel's gaze? The way he makes you feel? It's enough to give your long-standing crush on him a serious run for its money.

"But damn, Sarah will be here tomorrow?" your dad groans before chuckling. "A bit more notice would've been nice, but hell, it'll be good to see you, buddy."

"Listen, I've got something I can't postpone tomorrow. Maybe my daughter here could accompany you to pick up Sarah from the airport?" your dad suggests, turning his attention towards you.

Somewhere behind you, a strange sound escapes—it's you, emitting a sort of mewling noise that you know Joel catches, his smile widening in response.

"Sounds perfect," he agrees before you even have a chance to process it.

"Sweetie?" your dad asks, his tone sheepish now that he's volunteered you without asking if you were available.

You can only watch as the room seems to spin around you, nodding in agreement. "Yeah... sure, I don't have any tutoring sessions tomorrow."

"Perfect!" your dad sighs with relief, promising Joel they'll catch up later. "But I really need to get back to the shop. Are you alright here with her to help you settle into your new house with whatever you brought? The rest of your stuff hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, we'll be just fine," Joel assures in his trademark baritone, locking eyes with you.

You were so fixated on Joel's presence that you hadn't noticed the bags by the side of the home office.

"Sweetie? You sure you're okay to help? You look kind of..." your dad starts, but you take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before replying, "Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll be fine. I can help."

"Alright then," your dad grabs his car keys, ready to leave the home office. He gives you both a final glance, kissing the top of your head. "I'll be back for dinner. Have fun, you two!"

You and Joel remain frozen in place, him on one side of the room and you by the doorway, both listening to your dad's fading footsteps and the rumble of his truck as he drives away.

You’re so fucked.

It's been six long months since you last saw each other, and for Joel, it's felt like an eternity. The day of your graduation marked the first time he laid eyes on you in over three years, and it was as if he was seeing you for the very first time.

You've grown into a remarkable adult, and Joel couldn't help but feel the overwhelming need to be there, not only for his buddy, your dad, but also for his sweet Buttercup. Witnessing his little girl all grown up and ready to embark on her journey into the world with her diploma was a moment he'll never forget. He'd never seen his best friend prouder, yet his gaze lingered on you for entirely different reasons.

Reasons and desires that had never crossed Joel's mind until that day. He couldn't resist pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his.

What was he thinking? Surely, everyone could see the effect you had on him.

But Joel wasn't thinking, he was acting on instinct. He was claiming what he knew belonged to him. Telling you he was proud of you was one thing, but he's still unsure if you heard what else he said about how good you felt in his arms.

Yet, he doesn't regret it. Because it was true then, and it remains true now. He just wishes he knew if you felt the same way. If you felt it in the same way he did. But how could you possibly feel the same way about him as he has about you these past six months?

Joel couldn't deny that there were many reasons why the relationship between you was complicated. For one, there was the age difference - you were more than half his age. Apart from having the kind of body he could grip, suck and fuck for a lifetime, additionally, you were his best friend's daughter, a bond that ran deep and could not be ignored.

That day, Joel took a risk, blurring the lines and potentially jeopardizing not just his friendship with your dad, but also the bond he shared with you by being so affectionate.

Surprisingly, you didn't seem to mind his gestures, and Joel was convinced that your dad hadn't even noticed. Despite the undeniable attraction he felt towards you, a feeling that lingered and intensified with every thought of you, Joel couldn't shake the worry that his actions might have caused a rift.

As days turned into weeks without any word from your dad, Joel's mind raced with doubts. He couldn't help but question if you had confided in your father about his behavior. Perhaps your dad had sensed Joel's infatuation with you, leading to a silence that spoke volumes.

Intrusive thoughts plagued Joel, wondering if you had been uncomfortable with his displays of affection. The fear that you might have someone else in your life to hold onto gnawed at him, leaving him restless and anxious about the potential consequences of his actions.

Joel and your dad used to share conversations daily, a bond that time and life's demands have gradually weakened, particularly with Sarah still navigating middle school. They both acknowledge the need to reconnect more often, yet something always seems to intervene.

But Joel's decision to visit your father in person wasn't impulsive; it was a deliberate choice, driven by a desire to stay for good this time.

No more fleeting visits. This time, it's permanent.

And it's all because of you.

Since your graduation day, you've occupied Joel's thoughts relentlessly. It's more than just an obsession; you're the sole focus of his mind, consuming his every waking moment.

You are the only thing he can fucking think about.

Joel would never dare voice his thoughts to your dad, not just because of his feelings, but also because your father had a history of using his fists to settle matters. If he even suspected a fraction of what Joel's mind was consumed with regarding his daughter... Well, Joel would never be allowed in your home, with your dad likely ensuring Joel carried a permanent reminder of his displeasure.

Despite his reluctance to keep secrets from his lifelong friend, Joel's motivation to act stems from a burning need that is beyond his mere desire to reunite with you.

He doesn't just want to see you again; he craves it with a fervor that borders on desperation. And the only way to satisfy this yearning is to summon the courage to ask for more.

Reconnecting with your dad was pleasant, but the sight of you, standing in the doorway of the home office, unleashes a torrent of emotions within Joel. It's as though he's been trapped in a deep freeze for the past six months, and your mere presence ignites a firestorm within him.

Every curve of your silhouette, every strand of hair framing your face, fuels Joel's desire until it simmers beyond control, all for you.

As you watched him, his gaze never wavered from your presence, taking in the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He was grateful for the chair that supported him, as he felt the insanely hard erection you gave him.

Your natural grace and beauty had left him breathless, and he struggled to maintain his composure.

All from just being yourself. All without you even trying to do anything. 

You really are just fucking perfect in every way.

You're now an adult, poised to embrace all the challenges and pleasures that adulthood entails. The mere thought sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you once more, evoking memories of his touch on that unforgettable graduation day.

The intoxicating blend of his woodsy cologne, the creak of his well-worn leather jacket, and the soft fabric of his grey tee shirt against your skin linger in your mind, igniting a longing for more.

The sensation that floods Joel as he lays eyes on you in person after so long defies description.

It takes all his willpower to resist the impulse to stride over and scoop you up, succumbing to the overwhelming desire to claim you as his own and to drag you into your bedroom. But he restrains himself, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve, waiting for any sign from you that you're ready for his embrace.

When your gaze meets his, he witnesses the hitch in your breath, and he can't help but murmur, "Come here, sweetheart." Your response is like a magnetic pull, drawing you into his strong, steadfast arms. As you melt into his embrace, he's struck by the sense of finally being home. You are his home now.

Joel inhales the sweet fragrance of your hair, longing to whisper countless sentiments into your perfect little ear nestled so close to his mouth.

But all he can muster, without risking scaring you away, is a simple declaration in his southern drawl, "I missed you, my little buttercup."

You bury your face into his checkered flannel, your words muffled against his shirt as you confess, "I missed you too, Joel."

Your body instinctively gravitates towards his, fueled by both necessity and reflex. The memory of his last embrace has haunted your thoughts for the past six months, and as his massive, comforting arms envelop you once more, it feels as though you're picking up right where you left off. He feels even better than you remembered, and the mingling scents of his cologne and freshly laundered clothes stir a desire within you to cling to him forever.

Reluctantly, he releases you from the hug, clearing his throat as you take a small step back, managing to squeak out, “Do you want a cup of coffee before you get settled in your new house? You look kinda tired.”

“Sure,” Joel nods, and you sense him hovering behind you as you descend the staircase and enter the kitchen. You can feel his eyes tracing your movements from behind.

You busy yourself preparing the coffee as Joel sets his things down, knowing it'll provide the perfect opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, his gaze remains fixed on your curves as you move around the kitchen. In that moment, he realizes there's no way he can stay in this house for more than an hour, without confessing his feelings to you.

“You got a boyfriend?”

The sudden question nearly causes you to spill hot water all over your hand, and you freeze, feeling a slight tremble coursing through you.

“Well?” Joel's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, as if you're caught in the midst of the most exhilarating earthquake imaginable. Your mouth hangs open, unsure of how to respond.

“Boyfriend or not?” he repeats, his tone commanding. “Not,” you answer instantly, not minding the question one bit, especially when you see its effect on Joel.

“Good. Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone.

Turning back to the kitchen counter, the clinking of ceramic cups fills the room, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as the heat spreads throughout your body and to the tips of your ears.

“Cream and sugar?” you ask, turning your head just long enough to inquire.

The sight of your body shifting under your clothes already ignites fantasies in Joel's mind, imagining all the ways he could pleasure you, even right there on your dad's kitchen floor if you desired.

“Joel?” you prompt, breaking him out of his daydream.

“Uh… Sure. Cream and sugar,” he echoes, noticing your continued blush and slight trembling as you prepare the cups. As you approach him with the coffee, the sudden sound of your dad's voice startles you, causing you to drop one cup, which shatters on the floor.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face as he rushes to the sink to run cold water over the affected area.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really," you reply, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"I thought you were gone," you add, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I just forgot something. I came back to get it," your father explains, his eyes darting nervously between you and Joel.

Your father's gaze is fixed on Joel, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Joel's obvious concern for you. Anyone could see the way Joel feels about you, and your father's disapproval is palpable.

But you're not a child anymore, and you're tired of your father's disapproval. "Dad, I'm fine. You just startled me, that's all. Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that?" you ask, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come. He sighs and shakes his head, gathering the pieces of the broken cup and tossing them in the trash on his way out. The sound of his car speeding away speaks volumes.

"Maybe I should go," Joel suggests, but you wave off his concern.

"Don't worry about my dad. He's been weird ever since I graduated from college," you say, dismissing his concerns.

But Joel knows that your father's suspicions go back further than just this morning. He moves to help you clean up the mess on the floor, ignoring the broken glass and coffee spill. Gently, he takes your hand in his, wincing at the stinging and burn.

"Let's get this under some cold water," he says, leading you to the sink. You lean back against him as he guides your hand under the icy flow, your body yielding to his touch.

"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low and soothing. You nod, leaning into him as the cold water soothes your burn.

Joel's heart races as he holds you, feeling your warmth against him. He knows that your father doesn't approve of him, but he can't help how he feels. He's fallen for you, hard, and he's not going to let your father's disapproval get in the way.

"It feels better now," you whisper, your breath sending shivers down Joel's spine. He moves closer to you, feeling the pressure of your back against his aching cock.

"I can't help but notice how your body is responding to mine," Joel says, his voice low and husky.

"Should we start over?" he asks, leaning down so his mouth is close to your ear.

"You mean with the coffee?" you ask, playing coy. But your body is telling a different story.

"I mean starting over without your dad around," Joel clarifies, moving his hand to stroke the back of your neck.

You turn to face him, looking up into his deep brown eyes. "Just stay," you say, biting your lip.

Joel nods, his hands resting on your hips. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin'," he promises. "I'll be right next door, whenever you need me."

You stand there, close enough to kiss, but Joel holds back. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

"I meant what I said that day you graduated," Joel whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "You feel so fucking good."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel his arousal pressing against your back, and he grips your hips, pulling you closer.

You plead with Joel to stay, not just because of how the morning has unfolded but because deep down, you need him by your side.

The words you long to say to Joel linger on the tip of your tongue, but the rush of emotions leaves you speechless. Your heart races as you grapple with the intensity of your feelings, unsure of how to express them.

As you run your hand under the cold water, trying to steady your nerves, you suggest preparing the spare room as a distraction. Anything to divert your thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you.

The tension between you and Joel crackles in the air, the unspoken desire palpable. His longing mirrors your own, creating a charged atmosphere that leaves you both on edge.

"Is your hand goin' to be okay?" Joel's voice is laced with concern as he looks at you, and you nod in response.

"It's just a minor burn from the coffee," you murmur, trying to focus on the task.

"Shall I make us more coffee?" Joel offers, already cleaning up the mess on the floor. But your attention is drawn to the undeniable presence pressing against your back, sending a rush of sensations through you.

Your heart races as you realize the extent of Joel's desire, his arousal evident in every inch of his being.

"I'm not tired," Joel says, his voice low and intimate as he picks up the broken pieces of the mug.

"And I meant what I said earlier," he adds, his tone dropping to a husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, making it hard to focus on anything else. You should feel embarrassed, and remind him of boundaries, but the magnetic pull between you is undeniable.

"What did you mean?" you ask, a hint of defiance in your voice, craving his words like a drug.

His lips curl into a knowing smile as he repeats his earlier statement, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

"You feel so good," Joel says, his words sending a surge of heat through you, your cheeks flushing with desire.

"Is that why you came back?" you inquire, emboldened by the charged atmosphere between you.

"What do you think?" Joel replies, closing the distance between you, the space crackling with unspoken promises and desires.

You feel trapped, torn between your desires and the weight of your past.

Your hands tremble as you press them against Joel's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You slide your fingers down, curling around a button on his flannel shirt.

"My dad, for Sarah," you croak, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your touch.

"I didn't come back to town just to see your dad," he says, his voice low and steady. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable either."

He pauses, taking another deep breath before he continues. "What I mean is, what I'm tryin’ to ask you, is could you have feelings for an older man? A man like me, maybe?"

His eyes bore into yours, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips. You know what he's asking, and your heart races at the thought of giving in to your desires.

"I want to hear it from your lips," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "I like you a lot, Joel," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But?" he prompts, giving you an out if you need it.

You look up at Joel, your eyes pleading with him to make the decision for you. But there's no hesitation in his gaze. He leans in, pressing his warm lips against your hand, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through your body.

"Does it feel like this?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the heat that's building inside you.

"Do you really want me, darlin'?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You moan, unable to contain your desire any longer.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice barely audible. "Yes, I want you."

Joel growls, a low, primal sound that sends shivers down your spine. He presses your hand against his stiff erection, and you can feel the heat and hardness of him through his jeans.

You trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, forgetting all about the burn on your hand, the hot coffee, and even your dad and his house. All that matters is the feel of Joel's body against yours, the heat and hardness of him that you've longed for since graduation day.

"Then come here," he growls, leaning down further and taking your face in his palm. You shudder one last breath of uncertainty before the warmth of his mouth over yours means neither of you will ever have to ask that question again.

Joel's lips are soft and tender, but his kiss is urgent and demanding. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a hunger you've never felt before.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour, as if he's been waiting for this moment for years. You respond in kind, your hands tugging at his flannel shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

The heat between you builds, until you're both panting and gasping for breath. Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you dizzy with desire.

Joel can't help himself as he lifts you up and sets you down on the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around him as he devours your mouth with his own. His hands roam your body, feeling the curves and contours of your figure as if for the first time.

You respond eagerly, your hands tangled in his hair as you deepen the kiss. Joel's touch sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you can feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Joel's hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that make you gasp with pleasure. You arch your back, pressing yourself against him as you feel his hardness against your thigh.

He makes you purr and moan, fulfilling every fantasy you've ever had. Your hands move down to his throbbing cock, gripping and squeezing him through his denim, but you both know this is just the beginning.

Joel has already crossed the line he set for himself, unable to resist the pull between you. He wants more than just a physical connection; he wants all of you, your heart, your soul, your everything.

He envisions a future with you, a life where you're by his side, where you're free to be yourself, to indulge in every desire and dream. He wants to give you a home, a place where you can be truly happy, where the two of you can explore each other endlessly.

As you catch your breath, Joel eases his hold on you, sensing the need for a moment of clarity. Your smile and the flush in your cheeks speak volumes, reassuring him that you're on the same page.

"Holy shit," you exclaim, breathless and exhilarated. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath your touch.

Joel exhales slowly, realizing he may have moved too quickly for you. "Too much, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle, relieved when you giggle and nod in agreement.

But he sees the worry in your eyes, the need for understanding and space. You grip his flannel, pulling him close for a quick kiss, your words a mix of desire and uncertainty.

"I want this... I want you, Joel. I do," you confess, your voice filled with longing and hesitation.

"Just... not right now, not like this," you trail off, and Joel finishes your sentence, understanding the need for time and space to process everything.

He lifts you off the counter, noting how light you feel in his arms. He watches you pace the kitchen, a mix of emotions playing across your face. He settles on a stool, giving you the space you need to sort through your thoughts.

"I didn't think you were leading me on, and I didn't mean to be so forward," Joel says, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time, process everythin’ darlin’.”

Joel's phone buzzes in his back pocket, and he knows it's your father. He takes a deep breath and answers the call, trying to sound casual. You've stopped pacing but still look dazed, as if you're trying to process what just happened between us.

"Hey, man," Joel greets, hearing your father's voice from his car, still on his way to the office.

"Joel, I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I guess I'm the one who needs a nap, but I can't afford the time right now," he says, sounding sincere.

Your father has always been honest and upfront, and Joel feels a mix of pride and guilt as he listens to his apology. He knows that your dad will be upset once he finds out about the two of you, but until then, Joel thinks it's best to keep your secret a little longer.

"You don't have to apologize, buddy," Joel says, trying to reassure him. "When do you finish work today?" he asks, already thinking about the time they have left alone together.

More time to take things slow? Joel isn't sure. He wants to savor every moment with you, but he also can't wait to explore every inch of your body.

As your father continues to talk, Joel watches you, his mind filled with thoughts of the two of you together. He knows that things will get complicated soon, but for now, he's happy to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and energy.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Joel says, ending the call and turning to you. "Are you okay?" he asks, taking a step closer to you.

You nod, still looking dazed, and Joel wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He knows that the two of you have a lot to talk about, but for now, he's content to hold you, to feel your heart beating against his chest.

The future may be uncertain, but Joel knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this way about anyone before, and he's not about to let you go.

As Joel holds you close, your head resting on his chest, you finally voice the question that's been lingering between you.

"I guess we can't do this sort of thing around my Dad, huh?" you ask, your voice soft against his skin.

Joel strokes your hair gently, his heart full of emotions he never thought he'd feel again. He marvels at how easily and perfectly this moment has unfolded, how right it feels to have you in his arms.

"We probably shouldn't, not yet," Joel replies, his voice tinged with longing. He feels you nod in agreement, and he knows that keeping this secret will be a challenge.

Joel had left town to escape the past, to build a new future for himself and his daughter Sarah. But now, as he returns to the place where it all began, he realizes that his future is intertwined with yours.

He sees a future with you, a life filled with love and possibility. He dreams of a family with you, of building something lasting and meaningful together.

As he holds you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Joel knows that this is just the beginning. 

As you and Joel waste no time getting settled in the new house, the air crackles with anticipation. Joel turns the key in the door, and as you step inside, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of desire.

Without a word, you set down his bag, and Joel takes your hand, pulling you close. He lifts you effortlessly, spinning you around in a dizzying whirl of passion and need.

The lock clicks shut, sealing you both in a world of raw desire and longing. The house feels like a sanctuary, a place where only you and Joel exist, at least for the next hour or so.

"Aren't you gonna show me around first? I had no idea the inside was so nice," you giggle, your head spinning from the intensity of his touch and the day's events.

"I thought you might like to show me around... your sweet fuckin’ body," Joel rasps in your ear before claiming your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. Each touch, each kiss, ignites a fire within you, driving you to the edge of reason.

"You tell me if it gets too much, alright darlin'?" Joel murmurs between kisses, his strong arms wrapped around you. You nod eagerly, your body craving his touch, his presence.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you gravitate towards the nearest soft surface, a luxurious leather sofa in the living room. Joel stops in front of it, but you're consumed by the need for him, the hunger for his touch.

You try to nod, talk, and kiss him all at once, but the overwhelming desire he stirs in you leaves you breathless and unable to form coherent words. "Yeah... fuck... yes, I will," you pant, your body arching into his touch as he explores every inch of you.

Joel lowers you onto the couch, his eyes fixed on you with a hunger that matches your own. He drops to his knees in front of you, parting your legs with a firm grip, his gaze locked on your body with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna eat your little pussy, make you come until you beg me to stop,” he says in a firm tone.

His hands move with purpose, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. You gasp and groan as he explores every inch of you, his fingers and tongue setting your body ablaze with pleasure.

As he delves deeper, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, you feel a wave of pleasure building within you, each touch pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You writhe and moan under his touch, your body responding to his every move with a hunger that matches his own. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, the air thick with desire and need.

His elbows prop your knees wide, and half-reclined on the worn leather, you can't help but feel a thrill at the sensations coursing through your body.

The scent of old leather and his cologne mingles with the musk of your arousal, creating a heady mix that only heightens your desire. You're ready for Joel, and you know it won't take long for him to bring you to the edge.

With a rough yank, he tears your panties aside, the sound of fabric rending adding to your arousal. You never knew you could feel this horny, and every moment with Joel only intensifies your desire.

He takes a moment to admire your slick folds, his thick fingers gently parting your lips. You grip his silver-flecked curls tighter as he moves down to taste you, your body trembling with anticipation.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with Joel's deep groans of pleasure. His tongue finds its mark, and you can't help but cry out, your body writhing under his touch.

Joel's mouth covers you completely, his tongue replacing his fingers as he explores every inch of your sex. You're on the brink of climax, your body trembling with need.

"Be patient, darlin'," Joel whispers hoarsely, his voice filled with desire. He grips your thighs, pushing them wider apart until his massive head is pressed between them.

You shift your grip to his broad shoulders, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Joel... Joel," you moan, trying to tell him how close you are, how much you want him. But all that comes out are animalistic sounds of pleasure.

Joel's body quakes with silent laughter, his voice deep and reassuring as he promises you can come all night. You trace the outline of his jaw, your body trembling with need as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

If heaven exists, you're sure you've found it in Joel's arms.

AN: I'm such a fool to think that this would be a one-shot... ya'll this is now a mini-series. Don't worry... this will be a two to three-chapter kinda series. 🤍

[starkwlkr]

celebrity skin | cillian murphy

barbenheimer series

‘Is Hollywood done with Y/n?’

‘Y/n L/n, the girl failure’

That’s what the articles published on their front page. Recently, Y/n had refused to do a big budget film for a legendary director claiming that she wanted to take a break from the world of acting. Her and Cillian were looking to buy a house in Ireland so she was busy looking at listings and calling multiple real estate agents.

The director ended up calling her a bitch over the phone. He had insulted her over and over, stating that she would regret her decision.

After a source told multiple magazines about the situation only the ‘source’ didn’t tell the full story, the media started calling her annoying, selfish, dumb blonde, and the one that stuck the most, a bitch.

Cillian was not having it. Instead of going to his audition for a new series, he stayed home with her. He didn’t want her to be alone, especially at a time where the media and ‘fans’ were turning their backs on her.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” Y/n sighed as she snuggled up to Cillian. They were currently in London since Cillian had gotten an audition for a BBC series. He called the casting director and canceled, which made Y/n mad. Why wouldn’t she be? He had talked about the audition for months and now he canceled?!

“I want to.” He replied, giving her a kiss to the side of her head. “You haven’t eaten anything. I can make you pancakes, I know how much you love breakfast for dinner.”

“I’ll eat in a bit. I think I want to take a nap.” She said.

Cillian had noticed how she’s been taking naps all week. Sometimes she wouldn’t even come out of her room and all she ate was granola bars and orange juice.

“I want you to know that I’m with you every step of the way. Those articles? They’re wrong. Fuck those articles. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much.” Cillian admitted.

Y/n could feel a tear roll down her cheek. Sometimes all she wanted to do was run away with Cillian to whatever country and live their lives in a nice house.

“You’re a jerk, you know that. . I wasn’t planning on crying today. But I love you too.” Y/n laughed as Cillian pulled her in for a kiss. “I wish we could leave this place and go to one of those cottage houses in the countryside. That’s always been a dream of mine.”

“That sounds nice. Why don’t you pack your bag and I’ll buy our tickets and we can leave tomorrow.” Cillian said.

“What?” Y/n asked confused.

“I saw you looking at this cottage the other day on your laptop. I bought it two days ago and I payed my mum to buy us some nice furniture and food so by the time we get there it’ll be okay for us to stay there for a while. So go pack and I’ll arrange our flight. You and I are leaving all this behind for the next few days. No work, no fancy dresses or premieres to attend. Just us and our new home.” He explained.

“You’re full of surprises, my love.”

TIME SKIP

OCTOBER

It had been a few months since Y/n and Cillian left their life in London and stayed in their new cottage in the countryside. She loved it there. No paparazzi or pushy fans to bother her or Cillian. It was paradise for her. Eventually the casting director for Peaky Blinders offered the role of Tommy Shelby to Cillian since last time Cillian was going to audition he had called to cancel. The casting director desperately wanted him to portray the protagonist of the new BBC series.

Y/n encouraged Cillian to take the role. She was fine with staying in their cottage after all she had made new friends with the women that lived nearby. So Cillian flew back to London to film and Y/n stayed behind. She had picked up new hobbies, fixed some stuff that needed fixing like the guest room and even started working on her garden.

Soon, Cillian had finished filming and made it back home to Y/n just in time for her birthday. Even though it was her day, Y/n insisted on making dinner herself. She decided to cook a comfort food of hers, chicken alfredo.

Cillian watched as she set a plate full of pasta and chicken in front of him then placed hers on her placemat. “I should be cooking for you.” Cillian said, grabbing his fork and beginning to eat.

“If the birthday girl wants to cook then let her.” Y/n stated then began to eat. “How was filming? I saw some pictures on twitter of you on set and I have mixed feelings about the haircut.”

“You don’t like it? Be honest. I don’t like it.” Cillian admitted.

“Well it took some time to get used to it, but I kind of like it now. I don’t know, you look hot either way.” Y/n smirked.

“Then I guess I’ll have to thank the hair department.”

Soon, both plates of food were forgotten as the two lovers made their way to their bedroom, pieces of clothing scattered around. It had been months and both Cillian and Y/n were counting down the days until they say each other again. Months without a single kiss or the feeling of skin on skin. What a way to end your birthday . . .

TAGLIST

@leclercloml @butterfly-skinnylegend @rockerchick05 @agustdpeach @celesteblack08 @probablypossesedbysatan @kittyrumbl3r @electrobutterfly @knpgituloh @butlersluvbot @captainwans @bellstwd @theekyliepage @marti-su @multifans-things @ceruleanrainblues @litterallnobody @jackierose902109 @sinarainbows @cosniffee @thatgirlthatreadswattpad

[miserycanary]

MISSION: LOVE KILL  ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]

pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU. 

pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on

The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it. 

‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’

It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs. 

Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that. 

When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that! 

“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.” 

It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.

Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it. 

“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems. 

If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.

“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen, jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.

With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.

Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway. 

Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! @hotvinimon

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[maluuizaa]

About Episode 7 - MCL New Gen (Jason’s route)

• First of all, why would a famous architect build her own house with only one bathroom?? Like wtf, somethings on the story just don’t make sense at all, just like Danica’s babies being cats on the last episode. Dude, the house has a pool but a second bathroom would be too much? I get it that they wanted to make up something that would bring Ysaline and her sister/mother to disagree on, but they could’ve come up with something else, like Tasha stealing clothes from Ysa’s closet or something like that. Anyway, that bothered me so much because even my tiny house has two bathrooms and just doesn’t make sense at all;

• The moments with Jason satisfied me so far, even if it was a short episode, I think it added more layers to their relationship and to Jason’s character, showing a softer side of him, almost sweet, when he apologizes to Ysaline and jumps to defend her immediately;

• Also, when we spot him on the street and he senses that something’s off and immediately asks if the real estate agent is bothering Ysa. Sir, I just know you are down bad haha;

• Our boy is jealous af confirmed, he mentioning Roy and asking why we don’t ask him to help, saying that he would be willing to do it. I just know he IS the possessive type.

• And also, when Ysaline left the apartment after their argument, we see that he starts a negotiation with the agent to try to get her the apt anyway. I don’t doubt that he could literally buy the fucking building as an apology to us, but I guess they would go for something a little less drastic haha. But I do feel like he is the type to try to fix everything with a gift of some kind.

• I love me some little angst to build things up, what can I say.

• Overall I got to see protective Jason, jealous Jason, fake boyfriend Jason (even if he was a jerk about it) so I guess i’m satisfied (for now);

• And now we have to wait another month to play que next one 😭

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | November 25th-December 1st 2024

I replaced my computer after ten years and the keyboard is different so I'm feeling all out of sorts!!!

(as always, I do my best to find everyone's socials, if you know someone who's not tagged, please @ them in the comments!)

Complete

He’s a nester (he nests) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together, Post-S8E6: Confessions | 1,6K | Teen): Eddie is in love with his best friend. He’s also a mess. So he puts out some feelers. Decides to flirt. Flirt with Evan Buckley so hard that he makes a move and Eddie doesn’t have to.

if you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary by playinginthunderstorms/ @playinginthunderstorms (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Outsider POV | 1,8K | Teen): Now they’ve arrived at house number five, and Eddie finally snaps. “What is your problem?” He turns to Buck suddenly, interrupting Mariana mid-answer. She gapes at them, startled into silence, but neither of them are looking at her, so she takes a second to compose herself while watching Buck’s eyes go wide and his body twist towards Eddie. “What?” “You’re being difficult.” “No I’m not,” Buck argues immediately. (Or, one very confused real estate agent witnesses what probably should have been a private conversation.)

You're in the car with a beautiful boy by paleredheadinascifi (S8, Eddie Coming Out, Getting Together | 2,7K | Teen): “You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired." Eddie doesn't know anything about poetry, but, somehow, this queer poetry book knows everything about him.

Christopher Diaz and the Very Normal Smoothie by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): "Out with it, please. What was in the smoothie?” Christopher sighs. “I… can’t tell you. It won’t work if I tell you. Like a birthday wish.” Or, Christopher makes them a normal, regular smoothie. He has absolutely no ulterior motives whatsoever.

🔥Let me give you my life by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am. Fuck. I am freaking out,” he agrees, lifting his head to look at Buck helplessly. “You’re in my lap.” “I’m so extremely aware of that. You’re not wearing any pants,” Buck adds. A smile tugs at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I am also very aware of that.” Or, another take on what happened after the couch scene. Eddie *wants*. They're both brave about it.

Rom-com gone wrong by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8E8, Eddie Coming Out, Getting Together | 3K | General): “Can you open your eyes?” “No. I can’t look at you.” “Because I’m gay?” Buck sighs dramatically. “Because you’re pretty. And because you’re gay. Because you’re gay and pretty.” “Buck,” Eddie laughs. “Open your eyes.” Or, Eddie comes out to Buck. Buck panics. Hijinks ensue.

The feeling came late (I'm still glad I met you) by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): "Come on, Buck. Let it out. I hate this, too. I hate leaving you. Tell me how much you hate it. Yell at me, Buck. Come on, yell at me,” he begs. Buck snaps. He pushes off the couch and crowds into Eddie’s space. “Is this what you wanted?” He spits, pushing hard enough against Eddie’s chest that he takes a step backwards. “Hmm? You want me to lose it on you?” Or, Eddie cannot handle Buck pretending to be fine about his move to Texas. He, in fact, refuses to let him.

And then I go and spoil it all by paleredheadinascifi (S8, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “It has been exactly 44 hours since Buck was informed that he is in love with Eddie, and things are going just peachy. For example, he’s about to spend the following 24 hours attached at the hip with Eddie at their shared place of employment. Contractually obligated to be in the same room, same engine, same burning building as him and not be weird about it. You might even say he’s contractually fucked.” Or, Buck realizes he’s in love with Eddie and tries not to be weird about it. He does a terrible job.

Help me, Help me, I’m all out of Lies by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 4K | Teen): Looking back, Buck knew he should have trusted his gut and not given Tommy a second chance after he abandoned him on the curb halfway through their first date. That one decision could have spared him weeks of heartache. Or: 5 times Buck lied about his breakup with Tommy and the one time he didn’t.

Christopher Diaz and the Gay Agenda by paleredheadinascifi (S8, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “Um. He’s.. well — he has a list. An…agenda.” “An agenda?” “Yes. Like, you know. It’s a - - it’s a gay agenda,” Buck winces. “Great. Okay. So, my son is queer-eyeing me?” “I believe that is what’s about to happen, yes.” “Wonderful.” Or, Christoper hyper-fixates on Queer Eye and takes it out on his freshly gay father. Buck's there, too.

Come Back…Be Here by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Pre-Buddie | 5K | Teen): Chimney Han just wants to spend some alone time with his wife. His brother-in-law hasn’t gotten the memo

and its sequel It’s officially Christmas, and I’m officially yours (Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 5K | Explicit): Buck hasn’t felt this happy in years. And considering his still-broken leg, that’s saying a lot. But for the past two weeks, there’s been a constant smile on his face. Every time he glances up to see Chris and Eddie, his family, here in California where they belong, his heart feels lighter.

🔥you're in my blood like holy wine by granadas (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Canon Divergent, Getting Together | 12K | Explicit): It doesn't matter that they've never really talked or hung out like this before. Maddie is Buck's family, which makes her Eddie's family. If what she needs is a wine night, Eddie's gonna make it the best damn wine night of her life. "I'm in." OR: Months after the shooting, Eddie and Buck dance closer and closer to confessing their feelings for each other — until Eddie agrees to wine nights with Maddie and Karen, and Buck thinks he's dating someone new.

I’ll run to you (there’s no place I wouldn’t go) by kabnd/ @polkadotk804 (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Eddie Moves To El Paso | 14K | Teen): Eddie accidentally implies to his temporary coworkers in El Paso that he and Buck are more than just friends. Chris wants to keep playing the game, which is fun until Buck makes a surprise appearance at the firehouse. But that’s not the only time an attempted surprise wreaks havoc for Buck and Eddie, and Chris is happy to go along for the ride.

🔥lonely little love dog by littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Canon Divergent, Post-S8E4: Confessions | 24K | Mature): When the 118 is closed for reconstruction after an earthquake, Buck is a floater for different stations around the city. He tries not to let it get to him. Much.

WIP

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 13/14 | 54K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 8/? | 52K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 140/? | 450K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

[hexedwinchester]

What the later seasons of Supernatural are Missing?

It's no secret that as Supernatural added more seasons, the quality of the show deteriorated and the only reason it ran so long was because of Jared and Jensen. This dilution is attributed to a lot of reasons: Kripke's era coming to end, change of writers and show runners, poor writing on the part of new writers, focus of the story shifting from Sam and Dean to supporting cast. But here's something I don't see folks mentioning a lot and that is it lacked a good villain and not just that but rather a good villain with personal interest/vendetta with our boys. Let me explain..

Season 1 and 2: Though season 1 starts off with the boys looking for their father, the plots twists into Yellow Eyes chasing Sam down for personal reasons. He is invested in Sam, personally. That's what makes it beautiful

Season 3: Stakes are high as Dean is on the clock to walk the red carpet to Hell. While that's a major crux, Lilith who holds Dean's contract is also making the vendetta quite personal

Season 4: Sam is pumped on Demon blood being manipulated by Ruby to kill Lilith to stop the apocalypse with a side of getting some revenge for dragging Dean into Hell. See what I mean? Personal again. It's all about the boys

Season 5: it can't get any more personal than Lucifer and Michael twisting the guys to say yes to being their vessels. While the angels try everything to get a yes from Dean, let's put that aside for a minute and focus on Lucifer. His first interaction with Sam is in the form of his dead girlfriend. His obsession with his vessel is so fucked up, as if he knows Sam inside out, like he already has crawled under his skin. One look at Lucifer will tell you he only has eyes on the prize: The Great Sam Winchester. That's what made this season great!

Season 6: This is where it subtly starts to go downhill. While the Soulless Sam storyline holds interest, the whole find the purgatory feels like a side quest i'd be happy to skip because the prize is not our boys' journey. Frankly, I don't care a damn about the war between Heaven and Hell

Season 7: Probably in the top 5 of my least favourite seasons. Leviathans were lame with their world domination plan by buying real estate and their leader Dick Roman sucked. It seemed like a USA problem than Sam and Dean problem. The worst of it all? Borax kills them?! Say what?! Wut?! The oldest creatures with a weakness of cleaning agent?! What's next? Shedim are scared of hyaluronic acid? Let's squirt them with moisturizer!

Season 8: This was one of those seasons without a proper antagonist. And yes, the angel/demon tablet fiasco. Nothing against advance placement student Kevin but I didn't enjoy the prophet storyline. It would have been interesting if they made it personal to the boys. I loved the Trial Sam storyline and what would have made it better would be if instead of Kevin if Sam could translate the tablet after spending all those years in Hell, you know?

Season 9: Though Gadreel wasn't the main antagonist, his possession of Sam was good. I would have loved it if they extended the part when he doesn't get out of Sam, made it personal, something like Meg!Sam situation. On the other hand, I was happy with Metatron. He was sneaky, cruel and power hungry and it was personal after he got Kevin killed.

Season 10: Somebody jog my memory of what Season 10 was supposed to be other than Demon!Dean and Mark of Cain. I have already made a post on how Demon!Dean was not utilised to a full potential and i stand by it. And that's all I have to say about this season.

Season 11: Darkness and her personal connection to Dean. Now, see the idea sounded good in theory. But sadly, they never exploited this personal connection. It could have played so well but no, they made it about God and his sister. This season also provided a gateway to bring back Lucifer but...

Season 12: it brings us to the season I hate the most. We got Lucifer back but he was no longer obsessed with Sam? (Yawning!) We got BMoL but oh god they were nothing more than a bunch of snobs in suits or as Sam rightly said "accents in a pansuits". Like seriously, what could they do to him? Nothing, that's what. Then whole Lucifer's son plot was so weak, it makes the entire season difficult to watch.

Season 13: things get very blurry for me from this season onward, so bear with me if I don't get everything right. Probably second on the list of SPN seasons i hate. This is the AU plot right? It was interesting when they mentioned Michael lived in AU but oh god they should have made Michael obsessed with Dean. Stalking him, torturing Sam to get the yes. But nope, none of that.

Season 14: we get Michael!Dean but see it's missing that personal grudge. It feels like a random possession. They could have played this so well, perhaps given us the OG Lucifer vs Michael battle.

Season 15: God? The villain? Again one of those plots that sound amazing in theory but the success lies in the execution. At least, they made it personal so that was really great. What I don't like about this season is the finale. And no, I don't mean the whole who dies, who lives. Or the rebar. Or the safe life with blurry wife. I mean the epic showdown between God and the Winchester that we all were expecting. That storytelling was missing. I don't want punches, I want a freaking battle!

Simply saying, what do you think makes Joker or Moriarty or Lord Voldemort a good villain? It's not just their power. It's their obsession with the protagonist. You take them out, that's the end of it. (I'm looking at you, Sherlock, BBC show)

In conclusion, when the show stopped making the battles personal to the brother, stopped writing the hero's journey, skipped the storytelling element and wrote villain that weren't quite as obsessed with the brothers, that's when it started falling apart.

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — MANNY X READER X HAPPY LOWMAN.

A/N: Thank you to everyone that took the time out to vote for this thing! I’ve always wanted to write for happy but felt like I wouldn’t be able to do him any justice…this is just me brushing on him being in a relationship so I hope he wasn’t too OOC! Anyways hope you guys enjoy this!

WARNINGS: language, some angst—duh!, slight graphic violence right at the beginning, infidelity, age-gap, and me dipping into some smut?—Don’t get too excited 😆

*FIRST GIF BELONGS TO: @riosnecktattoo + the other doesn’t belong to me either!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: 48. "home doesn't feel like home anymore. you feel like home now."

𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢

with the new year just arriving you’ve been standing on business and keeping busy. You always believed in starting off big and ending with a bang but you didn’t actually want to start off February covered in: blood splatter on your face and brain matter falling onto your tall Chanel boots.

There goes that Christmas gift…

it was late and you were just finishing up at the new construction zone, touring the completed model home and agreeing to take it on as a property to sale. You were a real estate agent, one of the very best—if you did say so yourself—in the growing area of Charming and stood on that. Sure it’s name and it’s pretty views was part of what made Charming, charming but every city has its thorns.

Which led to a knife being pressed underneath your chin by a meth head who thought it would be fun to squat here. You weren’t sure how long he’s been hiding out in the home but it didn’t take him very long to attack after business was completed. Listen, you hardly went anywhere without your guard up but your bag was left in the kitchen, phone lost somewhere on the floor after the ambush, and your heart was going haywire while you held your breath, calculating how to handle this.

Before you could tune back into the addicts demands, you ripped your body away, cut on your chin as the knife slipped downwards just before the man fell forward. Your ears only heard ringing, taking up the once quiet of the night in the hills, and you slowly turned your attention to the person who quickly got you out of this messy situation.

Lowering their gun with gloved hands, there stood Manuel, “Manny,” Moreno. Once his long lash framed eyes fully sat on you, he’s shoving it back into his waistband and calls over his shoulder at the two men beside him, who spring into action to clean up their crime scene. He’s moving towards you now but you’re using the sleeve of the mesh new shirt you liked! to wipe away the blood from your face.

“Nu—

He starts to rest his hands on your upper arms but you shove him off, “I’m fine.”

There’s concern on his handsome features as he rasps, “Are you though?”

“It’s not my first time being around a dead body and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” You snap, “just wish it wasn’t fucking with my business but here we are.”

Manny dips his head at you, briefly glancing at his men who are shoving the body into a black bag, “yeah…sorry about that.”

You scoff at this and walk off to the half bath.

Manny hesitates to follow you but says to his men, “take him to the van and make sure y’all get everything spotless in here before we roll out.”

He stalks off in search of you, finding the half bathroom that has the door left open just a crack. Manny raps his knuckle against the door and he can hear you sigh over the water before you shut it off. He takes that as you being decent and pushes the door back with the tip of his shoe. You’ve rinsed and scrubbed your face but he knows when you get home, you’ll just go over that pretty skin even more.

“What’re you even doing here?” You ask, voice steady but there’s a slight shake in your shoulders before you stretch them back and straighten up your posture.

Manny lifts his own as if it’s obvious, “same as you, business.”

“No shit, smart ass! I’m talking about in this area…didn’t you take your spaceship back to AZ where you belong?” You bite but Manny finds that second half amusing.

Manny leans against the doorway, watching your reflection in the mirror, “nah…things changed and put me into a new perspective…so we decided a move to Stockton permanently was the best option.”

That was about fifteen minutes away from Charming.

You felt your eye twitch at this new information as it was your turn to fire off, “How long have you been here?”

Manny seemed to instantly grasp what you were getting at but knew there was no sense in lying as he exhaled through his pierced nose before holding your stare, “Only a couple of weeks.”

Pressing a tongue into your cheek you huff, “a phone call would have been nice.”

Manny lightly sucked his teeth, “Would you have picked up?”

“Probably not but a voicemail or even a damn text would do…unless you also were not expecting to see me here?” You questioned, although part of you had a feeling what that answer would be.

Manny is quiet for a moment and you scoff again. Whipping around with your backside pressing into the sink, arms spread out along the counter you burn your eyes into the man you shared history with. Once upon a time you used to look at him with such light in your eyes but the universe can show you just how wicked people can be. You’ve been on your healing journey and perhaps it can’t all be resolved by your expiration date but it was worth trying…yet the most high knows just how troubling it was for you.

it was difficult when the man you used to be in love with was back to his old tricks like: showing up when you were trying your best to forget his existence. You truly didn’t think you could even if you prayed hard enough while considering so many factors.

“The sons are a conflict and I’m just glad i got here in time.” Was all he said as confirmation.

You’re rolling your eyes, “oh my knight and shining armor! You think I wouldn’t be able to handle myself?”

Manny shakes his head, “Never that, I know exactly what you’re capable of but you hesistated and a thank you would be cool in my book.”

“And you not being a piece of shit would be even better,” you point into his forehead, leaving Manny to lean away from your jabbing nail until you’re shoving your way by, wanting nothing more than to get home and away from him.

Your stomach was churning just being in the same space as him again and you were trying to keep your anger calm but it was increasingly difficult the longer you spoke with Manny.

Moving around the living room, you’re down on your knees searching for the fallen phone and find it just underneath the couch. Bringing it back to your attention, you’re reminded of what last texts you were sending to your agency, (now ready to tell them another story but ultimately knew you probably couldn’t) before being shoved over the couch and then yanked back into the hands of the deceased.

“Look…you can say whatever you want about me but I don’t appreciate your abuelo being around my kid.” Manny tells you and you feel your blood pulsating as you whip your head around.

“What?!” You hiss, head pushed forward in hopes to help you make sense of where this conversation was going.

Manny chews on his bottom lip, “I said—

“I heard what you said,” you got to your feet, “but what makes you think I wanna hear it?”

“You don’t have to want to but I’m gonna tell you anyway.” Manny clasps his hands in front of him, already on defense.

Throwing your head back in laughter you say, “let me tell you something, Manuel. You don’t get to step in whenever it’s convenient for you, which is barely, thinking shit is going to be sweet just because you’re in your feelings about an actual man stepping in taking your place. That same place you didn’t even want, mind you.”

Manny quirked up a brow, “that bag of bones ain’t doin’ shit but getting his gravesite ready. You think that’s cool having that old head raise my kid?”

“What kid?” You quiz, “oh you mean the most adorable three year old girl that you first tried to deny because of something we both did? That same kid you thought was a mistake? The one you tried to hide from your wife? yet she’s the one who had the balls to reach out and want Aya to have a relationship with her big sister, Marbella?”

Manny tightens his jaw as the men are trying their best not to send him any looks as they’re using solution to clean up the hardwood floors. He’s rubbing at his jaw in irritation that his private business was being aired out like this but he’s the one who knew this conversation was going to be had at some point.

Manny’s wife, Lígia was the one to encourage this move. To push Manny to be the man he says he is and shown that he is. She always believed in him when he knew he didn’t deserve it. His wife had unmatched strength with all the deceit he brought into their home and he was just thankful she didn’t take Bella or her love away from him. He knew how shitty it sounded considering that he actually had a friendship with you some time ago—way before he even took those vows. The old him wasn’t as trustworthy and he wanted to try to be now, at least he was according to his brothers but he had his share of dirt. Nobody’s ever perfect inside or outside the club. He’s been married for eight years, had a six year old named Marbella with Lígia and a three year old named Aya out of infidelity with you.

It was always a tough pill for Manny to swallow even until this day. He felt like maybe he took advantage of your heart, promising at the beginning that it would all just be for fun with two friends messing around but you fell fast and even harder when he found Lígia. That was supposed to be you but it never happened. it was something you commonly did, the whole handing your heart over on a silver platter in hopes that your partner would do just the same. Manny ignorantly thought it had to do with the age difference. Now here the both of you stood with you at your early thirties and him approaching forty but this wasn’t the first time he’s ever mentioned this to you.

Manny knew how deeply you cared about him but he still went forth with his marriage and he still wanted you there. As down bad for Manny as you once were, you didn’t want to burst into flames watching Manny seal his love with someone that wasn’t you. Sure you weren’t proud to talk about how foolish you were but it wasn’t a secret like Manny tried to make it out to be. He really wasn’t as smart as he thought, honestly. It wasn’t all about pointing fingers, you had to find your worth, knowing that if Manny really cared about you he wouldn’t have strung you along with false promises. Eventually you knew when to step away for good but of course a pregnancy dragged you right on back until manny showed just how much he didn’t care enough to be there as much as he could for Aya.

Yes it was hard being in two different states now and you for damn sure wouldn’t be uprooting back to Arizona. To make it easier for Manny. He was going to have to put in the effort but instead he’s been here for weeks and his focus is on who Aya is being nurtured by?

He nudges his head, “let’s talk in the kitchen.”

You don’t argue because your bag is in there and you’re itching to get out. Briefly glancing through your bag to make sure your contents were still in there, you lift your head and exhale.

“I know it’s been rough,” Manny rasps as he leans over the large counter, “and I’ve got a lot of things in this world to be apologetic for but I’m here now and I would appreciate it if you would allow me to be there for Aya.”

You hold his stare, “I’d never deprive you of having a relationship with her because of how you treated me. It’s the way you went about everything else and now want to switch up because your wife gave you the okay? is what doesn’t sit right with me.”

Manny sighs aware that this is partly true, yes Lígia gave him the push but he had to learn how to face his truth on his own, “I know I fucked up and I’m sorry—i—just didnt want to be a failure of a husband and father to them but in return I treated y’all like you two didn’t matter. Which is the farthest thing from true. I’ll always be sorry for that time lost…which is why I’m here now.”

‘For how long?’ You thought to yourself.

It wasn’t time to be selfish because Aya deserved to get to know Manny regardless of how young she is at this time. You would have done anything to have more time with your dad if you could and honestly you wanted Aya to determine her own stance with Manny in due time.

For however long that’ll be.

Taking a deep inhale you shrug, “okay…when do you want to see her?”

“As soon as possible,” Manny perks up, “I actually can head your way now—

You grab your jacket, hooking it over your arm before grabbing your bag, “Aya’s not home. She’s spending the night with my mom and Rudy.”

Manny nods as he’s muttering, “right…I guess you and Mr. ‘I’ve fallen and can’t get up,’ probably have big plans tonight.”

Now why did he have to go and say that? Did he see you worrying about his wife or attacking her?

“Excuse me?”

Manny blinks not in the slightest bit worried about your tone, “you know tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day right? You used to love it.”

That holiday came around much faster than you remembered and you showed no emotion at Manny recalling one of your favorite holidays.

“I didn’t forget.” Was all that you said but it was clear Manny didn’t believe that, laughing to himself.

Manny sniffs as he talks once more, “right so…I’ll have the day off tomorrow, so maybe I’ll slide through and grab Aya from your moms and step dad’s and we can have some bonding time—just us three I swear.”

See how he just assumed that you would bring Lígia up? Of course you didn’t think you would one hundred percent be comfortable with that although she did reach out to you but you can never underestimate anyone. The both of you shared words before over the phone prior to the talk about Aya (mostly about you reaching out too much to a married man, although you tried to brush it off with just being besties but Lígia put the boundaries up for Manny since he wouldn’t) but it was never on sight. Lígia made sure of that which in your mind, you labeled that as her being scary of having a convo face to face but she just wanted you out of Manny’s life as it would create more problems for them.

She took it up more with Manny you heard…but she still should have been worried about you fucking her man even after they said, ‘I do.’

“Good luck with that,” you snort already aware how your mother felt about him, “she wont let Aya out of her sight.”

Manny shrugs, “I’ll figure it out.”

You saw something different in his eyes this year. There was a swirl of dedication in them the longer you stared and you didn’t want to get your hopes up. However you would give your mother a heads up since Manny probably already knew where she resided with your step-father. Manny was good at playing at not caring ever since he got into the club and chose to get married but you knew he couldn’t be that heartless. Sure he sent birthday cards here and there once he came to terms with Aya being his and even responded when you thought about child support.

The thing was he just didn’t show up whenever he was near by doing club business. It was the bare minimum and he chose not to. Manny claimed that moving here had partly to do with doing right by Aya and that’s all you could ask for. It still left a nasty taste in your mouth that Lígia got him to step up but that was your own personal problem not Aya’s.

“Alright then,” you start to make your exit until he says…

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Nubia.” His voice is gentle and you expect the tenderness in his tone to make you feel something but surprisingly it doesn’t as he continues, “take care of that cut and don’t forget to pick up something nice for abuelo on your way home.”

You halted but kept your gaze straight, “don’t worry, he’ll give me more than you ever could.”

Which left Manny nodding at your words, rubbing the tension from his jaw as he watched you walk away from him but certainly not for good in his eyes.

Making a stop was not on your to do list tonight but you stopped at your best friend’s lab to shower, take care of the scratch on your chin that would heal in a few days, get tested thanks to being exposed to blood—sadly while being asked a bunch of questions from the worry wart of a best friend that you had but you simply gave her a synopsis before making your way back home after a few texts to your mom and your man.

The drive was a bit longer since you had to go in the opposite direction to get a decent shower but it was what you needed. Eventually you made it through the suburbs and pulled your car right into the open garage beside the familiar bike. Reaching for the sun visor and pressing on the remote, you’re closing the garage door behind you and take a few more seconds to yourself before climbing out.

Each step you took towards the door you hoped the tension erased. The first door was left unlocked while you carried up the stairs, tiredly before unlocking the top door yourself. You don’t even peek to the right where your bedroom is, dumping your items right into the living chair before being greeted by Ope knocking into your legs for attention.

“Hey,” you greet the pit as you scratch behind his ears with a small smile, “you have a good day today? I’m sure you did since you don’t have any bills to pay.”

He barks at you, wagging his tail before running to head up the stairs. Letting out a yawn you raise your arms above your head, cracking the space in between your shoulder blades and blow out a breath as you drag your eyes from the window and to your left.

There Happy stands in what most would find a creepy demeanor. He’s watching you, almost analyzing but you greet him first before he can suspect anything, “hey.”

“Hey,” he blinks almost as if he has to remind himself, “what’s with the change of clothes?”

You frown, peering down although you’re aware what you left the house in but was unsure how Happy knew what you were wearing since his day started earlier than yours today.

“You left the damn shoe box out in the middle of the floor,” he responses in his usual gruff voice, “almost broke my fucken neck.”

Stepping to the bald man with the dark eyes, you wrap your arms around his waist burying your head into his chest to listen to the beat beneath it. “Sorry about that hun, I was rushing this morning.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Happy rests one hand on the middle of your back, squeezing you firmly to his frame.

The both of you hold onto each other for just a little awhile. This was all that you needed, to be in the arms of the man you could trust to be upfront with you and loving despite what the streets labeled him as. It’s not that it didn’t matter but at least you felt sure about this relationship—which didn’t sit right to some but you were grown enough to know what you wanted.

“I need to show you something.” Happy says now rubbing your back in circles, almost as if sensing you had a long day.

You squeeze him with your eyes shut, “is it a sweet chili wing dinner?”

“Better,” happy comments with a smirk as you peer up at him.

Turning your eyes into slits you don’t say much as Happy removes his hand from your back to slip his arm across your shoulders. Leading the way to your bedroom, you’re hit with the satisfying scent of brown sugar and fig, a thick patchwork towel spread out along the bed, and propped up pillows right along the center of the headboard.

“What’s this?”

“Strip,” happy demands from beside you while you frown.

“For…”

Happy rolls his eyes, “stop askin’ questions woman and get naked.”

Giving him a look you turn towards him, fist pressed into your hip while Happy can’t help but to let a smile slip past his lips, faint dimples appearing right with it.

“…am I getting naked by myself or…?”

“if you’re lucky,” happy grips the side of your neck and squeezes, “but first I’m taking care of you with a full body massage.”

A smile breaks out onto your lips now, “aw, happy—

“Don’t get all fucken mushy on me,” happy jeers as you go to scratch the white scruff on his face, “now strip and get your ass over there.”

“You could say please,” you tease kicking off your trainers first followed by Happy doing the honors of yanking up your crewneck.

Laughing to yourself at Happy’s impatience, you guess he’s been waiting a good amount of time for you get home so he could do this. He nods to the bed where you plop down and he lets own a low whistle along with a motion of his finger, “on your belly baby, you know the drill.”

“Oh?” You wink, while Happy grins at you.

Twisting your body, you crawl closer to the pillows, prepared to rest on your stomach but not without catching sight of some oil and flower petals resting in a wooden bowl. Call yourself impressed as you reach into the nightstand to grab your bonnet to slip over your hair.

“I need to be prepared too, hap.” You announce while the said man snickers to himself.

Resting your cheek against the soft pillows you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip and your man hovering over you. His lips are by your ear as he says, “I’ll always take care of you.”

And you believe him.

Happy’s touch is always rough but careful when it comes to you. You keep your eyes closed, body sinking into the comfort of the blanket and the roominess of your shared bed. His fingertips slip between your bra and skin, lifting the garment upwards before messing with the clasp. Being free from that trap makes you feel better already but there’s goosebumps as Happy trails a fingertip down your spine, against the dark art in Arabic that decorates your skin just right.

His hands are on the waistband of your leggings now and he doesn’t say much, he never does, making sure his movements are precise and swift; slipping a hand underneath you, lifting your hips with one arm while he uses the other to remove your leggings for you. The house is always toasty, just warm enough for the both of you during this comfortable but breezy winter but the goosebumps always arise once your skin is bare and underneath the gaze of the man you had no problem calling yours.

You’re left in your underwear and bonnet just the way Happy likes it—occasionally in your Mumu’s (don’t knock it until you try it ladies!) too but for tonight’s purposes? This would be his first choice to keep locked in his memory. He’s reaching over you again, rough fingertips grasping the bowl to tip it right over your skin. You don’t predict it to be warm and it almost makes you flinch but it’s soon smoothened out once happy’s touch is applied.

He starts at your shoulders first, where there seems to be the most tension. Just the right amount of pressure had you squirming but he knows you can take it, knowing just when to ease off, trailing his touch down your arms and interlocking his fingers with yours that are buried beneath the pillows. Then he’s back at it, tackling the knots and backing away towards your spine and going right back to make sure he’s doing his job.

Happy’s always loved your legs, especially when they’re slamming back against his, but this time he has to make sure they’re ready for what’s to come. You’re always on your feet showcasing homes or hunched over a desk so he knows your shoulders and legs would be the most problematic but it’s not like he’s worried.

“Hold on for me, lady.” He warns you just as he jams his thumbs over your upper thighs, making you groan and lift your foot up in protest.

He smacks it back down against the bed, noting that he would get to that later. However he knows your body pretty well so he attempts to keep your mind off the soreness that releases, “…want to tell me about your day?”

Happy’s not the biggest talker but based on research and with his own experience with his mother, he knows directing the conversation elsewhere helps people get through it. Which is a huge contrast when it comes to his job of getting some answers if you get what I’m saying…

“Only if you tell me about yours,” you huff twisting your body to the right in pain but Happy has no problem sitting right on your ass.

Happy snorts, “know i can’t tell you all those details, lady.”

You laugh a bit, “not sure id want to hear the graphics anyways,” relaxing a bit as he switches to his right and your left, which seems to be less painful, “Manny’s back and wants to attempt a relationship with Aya but I don’t want to be the bitch that keeps her away when he’s the one who pushed us away at the start. Yet he has all these standards and preachings with the damn club but couldn’t acknowledge his kid because he screwed around on his wife with me multiple times. I’m scared and don’t want Aya to grow up getting her heart stomped on by a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Happy is listening but he doesn’t respond right away. He couldn’t care less about manny the shitty Mayan to be honest and Happy honestly never saw himself being a father—if that’s what you and Aya considered him as! he was more of a pet dad, and even fell in love with your pet snake, Bingo first before having the chance to meet the curious light hearted toddler with the wide doll-like eyes and pretty long eyelashes who had wind chimes for a laughter box. Granted Happy’s only been around for almost a year but as much as he cared about you, caring about Aya was just a bonus.

This manny punk missed out and you were better than happy. If happy had a woman that didn’t step up for their kid, she’d probably be six feet under—in pieces. However he was the killer out of the couple whereas you said your peace and expected that to be done while still hurting over situations. If situations kept being pressed? That’s when things had the potential to go left on your terms.

“We’ll make sure it won’t,” happy says running his hands down to your ankles now and you’re almost sinking into the bed at his words.

“You genuinely mean that, hap?” Your voice wavering and that makes happy do a sharp turn to glance at you.

He’s moving now, gripping your shoulder and flipping you over to meet your gaze which slowly opens, body aware that you need to have eye contact as he speaks with you. Happy’s hovering over you, palms down by the side of your head as his dark eyes pierce into yours, “have I ever shown you any different? I’m nowhere near that motherfucker and I don’t plan on leaving you…either of you…at least not on purpose.”

There’s that honesty you couldn’t hate.

Your mother and step-father didn’t know exactly what Happy was into but they knew it was anything but good. Of course they opposed the entire thing and also didn’t want him around Aya, which you took precaution of since you were unaware if this would last but it has so far. There was only one way this relationship would end and that’s something the both of you vowed. Something the both of you swore to take seriously. There was also an age-gap just like you and manny but the difference was: love was actually in the room.

“What if you just up and decide you wanna go back to Tacoma, cutting all ties with us? People change their minds all the time you know?” You hated being vulnerable like this but having your heart on your sleeve shouldn’t be a crime.

Happy shrugged, “then I’ll take you guys with me. home doesn't feel like home anymore. you feel like home now."

Your eyes flick back up and a watery smile is present as Happy brushes his lips against yours. Before he reaches up to yank the bonnet over your eyes, “even this raggedy bonnet feels like home.”

He’s grinning while you laugh a bit then lift it up and peek up at him, “not too much now—but I love you anyways.”

Happy dips his head in agreement.

Which makes you reach up to caress his head as if it were your own personal crystal ball and Happy knows just what you’re thinking, wiggling his head from your grasp. “Since you want to be grabby…why don’t you let me massage something else?”

He pats just below with a delivish smirk, “ain’t love day tomorrow?”

“Is it now?” You curl your hand behind your head, “Was this your whole plan?”

Happy shrugs, “I’d get you under me one way or another regardless.”

“Look at you being so damn sure of yourself!”

“Yeah I am. No toddler in the house, a nice massage, me tending to our pussy, and a second meal afterwards? Sounds good to me.” Happy ticks off with his fingers.

You snort, “well when you put it that way? Oh how romantic!”

“I did good though?” Happy questions, a flick of doubt appearing over his face before it’s gone.

You reassure running your thumb over his cheek, “Yeah you did, you’re great with your hands.”

“And I still want to use ‘em.”

“Only if you get my Valentine’s Day gift for you?”

Happy frowns, “That bouncy heart headband?”

“How did you?” You started but shake your head knowing not to question it, “that wasn’t for you that was for Aya.”

“Then where is mine?”

“See, that’s what happens when you go snooping.” You laugh.

Happy slaps your thigh, “well?”

“It’s nothing big but it’s under Aya’s bed because I knew you wouldn’t look there.”

Happy sharply exhaled through his nose and backs away with you. “Don’t move,” he warns stomping out of the room and up the few steps to Aya’s room.

Snuggling back into the bed, you await for Happy’s return with the glitter red box. It’s already open as he tosses tissue paper onto the floor, and holds up one rubber item.

“Pound town ticket,” happy is smirking at you and tosses it right on your body watching as it lands on your torso, “don’t mind if I do and I get two? We’ll use the second one tomorrow.”

You laugh as you pick up the item and give it a kiss before placing it on the night stand. Sitting up on your elbows and you smile as Happy keeps digging through the box to find the personalized boxers.

“Oh shit, look at these!” Happy holds them up, showing the black underwear with hearts printed all over front and back with the middle having your face and a drawn body hugging around where his junk would be.

Asking the man, “You like the cheesy little gift?”

“Hell yeah, it’s stupid but I’m gonna wear these—

“Now?” You pry.

Happy sucks his teeth, “no not now! I’m trying to get out these jeans and into my home.”

Laying back, you lift your feet and spread your legs, peering at Happy, “come on in then.”

The darkening of Happy’s eyes means you don’t have to tell him twice as he chucks the box to the side, licking his lips as his eyes remain locked on you. You enjoy the view as well as Happy hooks his hands through the belt hoops of his jeans, his v-cut being prominent that you have to bite down on your bottom lip, watching him get out of them just as fast as he’s charging over to the bed.

Squealing you welcome him into your arms after he yanks on your ankles, toppling right on top of your body. You always love when he puts if not all but most of his weight on you, burying you into the sheets while he nips at your shoulder and places an open mouthed kiss against your neck. He loves the way you smell naturally or even fresh from a shower. Always like the fresh start of spring, like a harsh rain, cucumbers, and floral—like your favorite flowers that you’re allergic to, lilies.

You always smell soft despite the resting bitch face you have. And he always cares for you just right. That same feeling is evident when he spends time on your breasts, caressing the roundness of your face while sucking and biting. He even runs his tongue over the fresh scratch on your chin and that almost makes you pry your eyes open but your focus is always directed elsewhere once Happy has his hands on you. You’re at his mercy before he’s even inside you but Happy times everything right.

Knows when to tease and get you ready for him. Majority of the time its difficult to have these times together with a young child in the house, Ope trying to cock block, or both of your jobs getting in the way but when you do, it’s best to savor these moments.

With your legs in the air like the letter V to match his hips, body shuddering with Happy holding you right against him at the edge of the bed, he isn’t quick to move like normally. He wants you to feel every inch and he wants to feel just how you were made for him.

Only him.

𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢

February fluff anthology prompts continues here.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Knight in Shining Motorcycle: Part Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: feeling rejected and heartbroken, going on yet another bad date, belittling wait staff (by the date), fluff at the end

Summary: It's been a month since the incident with Jackson. It's been a month since you felt Bucky's arms around you. It's been a month and he hasn't said one word about it, and seems like he's gone back to his usual ways. It's time for you to move but why can't you?

read part one here: Knight in Shining Motorcycle

Squares Filled: seeking comfort in best friend (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been a month since you and Bucky shared a bed. It’s been a month since he saved you from that disastrous date with Jackson. It’s been a month since you felt his arms around you, and you haven’t felt them since. It’s like after that night, Bucky went back to his normal ways of fucking a new girl every week. He refuses to think about that night, talk about that night, and acknowledge that it even happened.

Sometimes, he’d bring two girls back to the apartment for a very long night of you wanting to kill yourself from the noises you’d hear. You don’t get it. You thought you two had something. Were you just a means to an end? Another girl to get into his bed even though you never did anything other than sleep? Another notch in his belt?

The only person you can find comfort in is your best friend and Bucky’s sister, Mia. She’s the only one who will hear you complain about him because everyone does it. All of her friends who have gotten involved with Bucky have complained to her about how he didn’t treat them right or they caught feelings but he tossed them aside like they meant nothing.

However, this time it’s different. It’s the way you talk about Bucky or the way she sees him with other girls that makes her think there is something more to this than meets the eye.

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” you ask and fiddle with your cappuccino.

“No, sorry, hun.”

“I should move out. I don’t know where I’d go.”

“I wish I could say you can stay with me. Ty and I just converted the spare bedroom into our home office.”

“I know. I appreciate the offer. I have a little money saved but I have to tough it out until I get enough to afford something small.”

“Ty’s sister is a real estate agent. I can give her your number and she can try and help you out.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m still trying to figure things out.”

“Hey, can Ty and I borrow your car this weekend? Ours is in the shop and we planned a romantic weekend up north.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off the night before.”

“Thanks!”

You take a sip from your coffee and hear a motorcycle in the distance. You’d recognize that bike anywhere. Bucky pulls up near the cafe where you and Mia are and parks on the side of the road. He has a girl on the back of his bike that he no doubt met that day. Right in front of him is some fancy clothing store she wanted to go to. She gets off the bike, removes her helmet, and leaves him on the bike to go inside the store alone.

Bucky looks in your general direction but with his helmet on, it’s hard to determine exactly what he is looking at. Still, that doesn’t stop the glare you’re giving him.

“Just ignore him,” Mia says and pops a doughnut hole into her mouth.

“Easier said than done,” you mutter and look away from him. “That next morning, he acted like nothing happened. I figured he didn’t want to talk about it. Then a couple of days passed and he still didn’t mention it. Weeks went by and now I know he’s doing this to me on purpose. He’s being an ass.”

Bucky gets off his bike and takes off his helmet to get some fresh air, and he leans against the side of it effortlessly. If you were to do that, you’d surely knock the bike over. He waits for his fuck buddy to come out of the store, and she bounces over to him with a bag in hand. She wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her in for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss that is meant for the bedroom but also the kind of kiss you want to show off to someone. You can’t be here anymore.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

You get up and toss some bills onto the table for your drink and leave in the opposite direction of Bucky and his new toy.

Bucky pulls away from the girl and looks over to where you and Mia are. When he doesn’t see you, he looks around for you only to see your retreating figure. He feels like shit for doing that. He absentmindedly rubs the knuckles that hold small scars from when he beat Jackson up for what he did to you.

You take the entire day to walk around town and be by yourself, so when you get home it’s already dark. Bucky is in the kitchen cooking something when you put your keys in the bowl by the front door. You round the corner and see him cooking something with only a towel wrapped around his waist as if he just got out of the shower. However, there isn’t any water on his body.

“Grab it while it’s hot,” he says.

“Really? You’re cooking in a towel? You couldn’t have gotten dressed first?”

He opens his mouth to reply but someone speaks from his bedroom that interrupts him.

“Bucky, where are you? I’m getting lonely.”

Bucky doesn’t feel guilty that he has a girl over. He feels guilty that you caught him. He sees the heartbroken look in your eyes that makes him want to shoot himself.

“Thanks for the offer but I’m not hungry. I’m sleeping over at Mia’s tonight.”

He lets you walk away.

The weekend comes quicker than you’d like. Without a car, you’re stuck in the apartment, and you’re not about to ask Bucky for a ride on his motorcycle. You’re stuck in your room on your phone when you get a message from Mia.

Hey, I know you didn’t ask for this but I hooked you up with someone Ty knows. He’s super nice!

like a blind date?

Yeah. I can tell him you’re not interested. I figured this is your chance to get over my brother.

yeah, i can try. where is the date?

At the new bar that just opened next to the cafe. His name is Travis. I told him 7 tonight.

okay. thank you. i’ll let you know how it goes.

Seven is three hours away, so you better get ready now. After taking a shower, you look in your closet for something to wear and come across the dress you wore for your date with Jackson. You haven’t worn it since because of the memories attached to it. Not memories of Jackson, memories of Bucky. Next to that dress is Bucky’s leather jacket he told you to keep. Like the dress, you haven’t worn it since and you’re sure as hell not going to wear it now.

There is a floral print dress that goes down to your ankles. It’s off the shoulders with long sleeves down to your wrists that bunches so the sleeves look flowy instead of compressed. The entire dress is flowy and light, perfect for a blind date. The match, you have chunky white wedges that give you a few extra inches. You keep your makeup light, hair down in soft waves, and jewelry that compliments the dress.

You leave your room and look at Bucky’s closed door. He’s been spending a lot of time in his room this past week with girls he picks up from anywhere. The only reason you’re telling him where you’re going is because you live with him. If you don’t, he’ll send an army to go look for you. There are noises and giggling coming from inside the room but when you knock, they cease.

One minute later, the door opens a crack and Bucky stands there with messy hair and sweats on.

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”

Bucky takes a moment to look at the outfit you’ve chosen and his demeanour changes immediately.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a date.”

“You don’t have a car.”

“I’ll Uber. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

You leave before he has a chance to say anything else. It takes the Uber ten minutes to get to you and another thirty minutes to get to the restaurant. Mia sent you a picture of what the man looks like but it was grainy and unclear. You step out with your phone in hand while looking around for Travis.

“Y/N?”

You turn to see an attractive man wearing a nice suit. You look at the picture once more to confirm it’s Travis, which it is.

“You must be Travis,” you chuckle nervously.

“Yeah. Wow, Mia sent me your picture but nothing compares to real life. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“I made us a reservation. Shall we go inside?”

“After you.”

You two walk inside, get your table, order, and start chatting about your lives. Travis is a bit boring when it comes to having adventures. Unlike you. You can write a book about the adventures you’ve been on because you have Bucky as a roommate. When he’s not fucking some random girl, he’s actually pretty cool to hang out with. You two have been everywhere in town doing all sorts of things.

“So, what do you do for work?” Travis asks and sips his drink.

“Uh, I am an IT specialist who works from home. I get calls daily on how to fix computers and other tech-related stuff. It pays well and I get to stay home, so that’s a bonus.”

“That’s awesome. I’m terrible when it comes to computers.”

“What do you do?”

“I am a financial manager. Like you, it pays well but I’m stuck in meetings and in the office all the time.”

“Have you always wanted to work in the financial world?”

The waitress comes by with your food and sets the plates in front of you and Travis. You think she’s going to walk away and you can continue your conversation with Travis, but that’s not what happens.

“Am I supposed to be impressed with this?” he asks angrily.

“Excuse me?” the waitress stutters.

“I don’t even have to touch this to know it’s cold. Do I have to go back there and tell you how to do your damn job?” 

Your mouth opens in embarrassment and shock.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take this back right now and have it fixed.”

The waitress grabs the plate without looking at you and leaves immediately. Poor thing looks like she is going to cry. Travis shakes his head and turns back to you as if this never happened.

“So, anyway, I went to business school and all that, but it’s nice to get out of the office every once in a while, you know?”

You have no idea what to say. Mistreating waitstaff is an immediate turn off. Everything attractive about this man suddenly turns sour. You’re lucky you saw this early on instead of at the end of the date.

“I’m sorry, I have to use the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, sure.”

You take everything you own with you because you’re not coming back to this table. You make it seem like you’re going to the bathroom in case he’s watching but once your table is out of sight, you find the first waitress you see which so happens to be yours.

“Hey, I am so sorry about the way he spoke to you like that. I don’t even know him. My best friend set me up. Listen, I gotta get out of here but the table we’re at is by the door. Is there a back entrance I can use?”

“Yeah, I got you. He gave me the ick as soon as I saw him,” she shutters. “Follow me.” She takes you through the kitchen and the back door that they use when they go on breaks. “Good luck.”

“Oh, and don’t be afraid to spit in his food.”

“Trust me, the cook’s all over it.”

You walk through the small alley next to the bar to the main street. You take out your phone to call an Uber, but luck has it so that you don’t have any service. You try moving the phone around, even walking down to the street light, but nothing comes up.

“Damn it,” you mutter.

You can’t call Mia. You can’t use your car because she has it. The only person you know is Bucky. Should you call him? He’s probably frolicking with that woman still. Even if you were to call him, he’d probably hate you for ruining his date. The only other option is to walk home even though it took thirty minutes to get here by car.

The road stretches through the mountain briefly which you don’t want to walk through but what else are you gonna do? If you can’t get service in a busy restaurant area, there is no way you’re gonna get service in the mountains. The walk gives you time to think about your life. You have a good job that pays well but you can’t keep living with Bucky if it means seeing him with all these women. You have a major thing for him and it kills you to know you’re not the one he’s going home with.

Ten minutes go by until you hear the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle. It races past you without a second thought, screeches to a stop, turns around, and slowly creeps up behind you. You don’t have to see who it is to know who it is. Bucky pulls up next to you and walks the bike to keep up with your pace.

“Get on the bike.”

“No, I’ll walk. Thanks.”

“Don’t be difficult, Y/N. Get on the bike.”

“How the hell did you even find me?”

“I asked Mia. She told me the guy you were on a date with. I looked him up, and he posted to his Facebook about how his date ditched him, and all women are beneath him. He’s a fucking loser. I mean, he still uses Facebook,” he chuckles. “I figured you were out here somewhere.”

“Stop stalking me,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Get on the damn bike.”

“No!” Bucky revs his engine and surges forward, parking right in front of you to prevent you from going further. You try to go around him but he moves his bike in your path. “Why the hell do you care about me? You’ve proven I mean nothing to you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks and gets off his bike.

“You fucking know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, then you’re not worth my time.” You try pushing past him to continue your walk but he grabs your arm to prevent you from doing so. You quickly turn and slap his face. The shock is enough for him to let go of you. “Don’t fucking touch me. The last time you touched me, you left and never spoke of it again. Just go, please. You have a girl waiting for you at home. Just go to her.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

“Because she’s not you!” he yells loudly.

“Do better,” you scoff.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself. “I love you!” You pause to take in the information. “I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I’ve been trying all month to get you out of my head. None of the girls I’ve brought home have ever stuck because they’re not you. Being with you that one night has been better than anything I’ve done all fucking month.”

“Then why did you let me walk away?” you ask in a heartbreaking tone.

“Because I’m an idiot. Because you’re the realest thing I’ve ever had, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

Silence befalls the two of you, and you look around the desolate road.

“So, what are you gonna do about it?”

More silence. Bucky takes three big steps to get to you, grabs your waist with one hand, slides his other into your hair, and kisses you like he was supposed to a month ago. His lips fit so perfectly against your own like they belong there. You’ve pictured this moment in so many different ways, but this is not on your list.

“Are we really doing this?” you ask when he pulls away.

“Do you want to?” You nod with a smile. “You’re my girl now.”

“No more other women.”

“I’ve got the one I want.”

He leans down and kisses you again, this time, making your head soar to new places.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[bisexualbellamyblake]

a quiet undoing

buddie - post-808 coda - read on ao3

“Eddie’s moving to Texas.”

Maddie blinks at Buck, processing his words. It’s barely a second before her head tilts, and her eyebrows draw in, and she’s looking at him like he’s six again, like he’s fallen from his bike and all she wants to do is patch him up.

Protect him from the world.

“Oh, Buck,” she says, soft like she’s worried he’s fragile, like he might break, and maybe he will, because he doesn’t even remember it, driving to her house.

It’s all a blur.

Going to Eddie’s with a basket of baked goods.

Using his key and feeling that quiet thrill in his chest at the click of the front door unlocking.

Teasing Eddie about whatever he was looking at.

And then, being hit with something that Buck never imagined he would be. The prospect of Eddie leaving LA.

Of leaving him.

“I don’t — I’m not sure why I’m here,” Buck says, voice feeling tight with a fresh wave of tears. The first lot came when he was sitting on Eddie’s couch, when Eddie was no longer watching him and he allowed himself a moment not to pretend. They’re harder to swallow down this time. “I just got in my car and somehow ended up here.”

“That’s okay,” Maddie says, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, coaxing him inside. “I’m glad you came.”

She leads them to her couch, and Buck sits down, trying not to think about Eddie’s couch.

How many times has he sat there with Eddie? With Chris?

How many times has he slept there?

How many of Buck’s memories have been born on Eddie’s couch?

And now, he’s just spent an hour there on a call with a real estate agent, trying not to be anything but supportive as Eddie asked about different properties in fucking Texas.

Because how could he be?

Eddie misses Chris more than anything in the world.

He needs to be with him.

Buck understands, even if it feels like his own heart has been carved out of his chest.

“He wants to be with Chris,” Buck says, he’s not sure how long later. Time doesn’t feel like it’s moving quite like normal. “He’s looking at houses. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just fly there and bring him home. This is his home, Maddie, not Texas.”

“Buck…”

“I know, I’m not — I would never say this to him, don’t worry. I’ll let him go, even if it kills me. Even if I…”

The words get caught in his throat, and god, it’s love that’s strangling him right now, he knows it.

Another thing he can always associate with Eddie’s couch.

His eyes burn, and his chest feels cracked open, and it’s as Maddie’s pulling him in for a hug that he finally breaks. Tears hot on his cheeks, half-formed breaths shuddering out of him, his entire being — body and soul — aching with grief.

He’s always been an easy crier, always felt things too hard, too much, but he can’t recall the last time it felt this overwhelming.

Not when Tommy broke up with him.

Not when he was coming to terms with his own death — three minutes and seventeen seconds.

Not even when Maddie left, as much as it killed him.

It was probably when Eddie was shot. When Buck broke down in front of Chris.

Now, it’s Maddie who holds onto him as he sobs, murmuring soft words he can’t quite process as his body shakes with sorrow, as he tries to come to terms with the reality of yet another person he loves leaving him.

It’s minutes, or maybe hours, until he’s wrung dry, until the tears have stopped and his face feels tight and sticky and his heart continues its confused, worried beat within his chest: how will we go on?

Buck doesn’t know.

But he wipes at his eyes, and takes a slow breath, and this is what he does know:

He’s in love with Eddie.

And it’s because of that love, that he’ll let him go.