#and this asshole broke it even though he knows he’s not allowed to sleep on my desk

[johaerys-writes]

My cat broke one of my patrochilles framed prints this morning and I'm still mad at him and I feel so guilty about it 😐

[saintobio]

the biker's book club, feat. l&ds sylus.

pairings. sylus, fem!reader genre. fluff, smut, biker au, 18+ tags. petnames (kitten), unprotected sex, spitting, hair-pulling, consensual filming, creampie, dirty talk, possessiveness, violence, slight yandere themes, impregnation notes. ik he’s probably into cafe racers but the sportbike enthusiast in me thinks biker!sylus is the m*tthew w*ods of l&ds, booktok/biketok girlies iykyk

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who collects liter bikes like they’re toys; he’d usually get rid of them as soon as he gets bored, but his current favs are his black & red edition fireblade, m1000rr, and superleggera v4.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who got famous on booktok overnight after posting a video of him riding his bike through the tunnel with a half-buttoned shirt. the view offered a peek on his toned chest and abs, leaving the rest to an innocent girl’s imagination. the comments on that post are wild, and the views went up to 2 mil in a day.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who broke numerous girls’ hearts literally a day after that post, revealing that he already has a backpack (you) and that his sunset and midnight rides are exclusively booked for his girlfriend.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who eventually taught you how to ride your own bike, gifting you a white N400 on your birthday—a bike he calls “too slow” for him, but is actually fast enough for a beginner like you.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who once chased a car for nearly rear-ending you on a red-light. as soon as he saw how the car almost hit you from behind, the loud and chilling roar of his bike bolted you in surprise as he accelerated to chase after the car, breaking the asshole’s side mirror, and teaching him a ‘lesson’.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who always keeps a possessive eye on you, always riding within his acceptable distance because the last time he allowed you to ride ahead of him, some guy on a Ford 150 tried to ask for your number, calling you a hot biker girl he hopes to have a ‘good time’ with. that didn’t end well for the poor guy, because the interaction was cut short when sylus revved his bike, lane splitting between you and the car, and running over the guy’s outstretched arm along the way. he might’ve broken a bone or two, who knows?

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who owns a springfield .45 gun, and claims he has no problems shooting another guy’s head if they dared touch even a single strand of your hair. he’s a very territorial individual and would not think twice on committing a crime if it meant protecting what’s his.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who’s hated by his neighbors, both because of how loud his bike gets in the morning, and how loud his girl can get during the evening. he doesn’t care though, because the sound of your moans were actually music to his hears. he swears he has to hear them every night or he won’t be able to sleep well.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who gets very kissy and touchy whenever you two arrive at home, unable to keep his hands to himself while you’re still parking your bike beside his. his lips would go straight to your neck, placing feathered kisses on your skin, tickling you with his warm breath as he tells you, “you know you’re mine, right?” of course you’d say you’re his. and he always follows up with a reminder, “good, because i’d kill any son of a bitch who tries to steal you from me.”

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who loves to fuck you raw, rough, and fast. he always had you gripping on the sheets, or scratching his back, or screaming out his name in a salacious escape to release your earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm. he always had your legs shaking, your body twitching, your breasts bouncing with each slam as he doesn’t stop pounding into you even after you came. he adores the sight of your beautiful, begging face each time he buries his hardened cock inside of your sweet, sweet pussy. “my kitten’s being too needy, huh?” he’d whisper to your ear before meeting your hips with another satisfying thrust. “always a slut for me.”

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who likes to spit on your mouth, pull your hair, and slap your bum. they’re some of his many kinks, and he can get nastier if he wants to, but he’d often say he’d rather save the best on your wedding night.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who enjoys filming your extremely erotic moments together, claiming that he needed to revisit those videos for when he misses you. his favorite content seems to be when he’s cumming inside of you, shooting every drop of his thick seed straight through your womb. kitten, you’re so tight, he’d think to himself. he goes even crazier for the view whenever he pulls out and sees his own semen dripping out of your swollen entrance.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who makes you breakfast the next morning after a long, passionate night. he always seems to cook the perfect pancakes, like he had specifically mastered the skill after you told him that pancakes were your favorite choice for breakfast.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who proudly displays you on social media, and bluntly rejects every girl who’d leave thirsty comments on his posts. he gets a little too sassy for their liking, but he doesn’t really give a damn about hurting another girl’s feelings if it were to protect yours.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who lets you ‘break’ his masculine ego by allowing you to paint his nails, give him skin care, or place cute, tiny, heart-shaped clips all over his hair whenever you were in the mood to. he’d just stare at you the whole time, amused at how you’d treat him like your own ken doll.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus whose immediate response when you told him you’re pregnant was “do you think it’s a baby girl?” there was no ounce of surprise in his eyes, no scintilla of worry at the thought of being an unexpected father, clearly, because he should already see it coming especially with how sexually active you two are. he really wants a baby girl, too. and a boy next. so while you were nearly horrified at seeing your positive pregnancy test thinking he’d ask you to terminate it, his calm and loving reaction to your unexpected baby was what made you realize that there was nothing else you could ever want in a man.

𓆩♡𓆪 biker!sylus who, on the very next day, asked you to try and test start your bike because he thinks something’s ‘wrong’ with it. you hurried to check your bike, of course. little did you know, the keychain strapped onto your key had been replaced, now with a new, embroidered keychain bearing the words, “marry me?”

[thatsdemko]

don’t go - c.leclerc

masterlist | pairing: Charles Leclerc x gasly!reader

summary: a bad date leads you to a certain asshole in your brothers living room…

warnings: NOT intended for minors(18+) + oral (m receiving) + angst + slightly unedited (potential grammatical errors)

it didn’t have to be so hard to have one successful date, but somehow in the country of Monaco, it was damn near impossible without having to hear some sort of brag about fancy cars and formula one drivers. which funny enough, all of that is what you wanted an escape from. having a brother in the Motorsport meant your whole life revolved around it, and all you wanted was evening where you didn’t have to talk about cars.

“I’m so sorry,” kika softly mutters, her fingers dragging through your hair as you lay your head in her lap, “he sounds like such an asshole.”

you sit up from her lap, taking in the three who sat and listened to your horrific date night: Pierre, your brother—who looks about ready to beat someone up—, kika, who instantly wrapped her arms around you when your stormed in, and Charles. the Ferrari driver who sat silently listening.

“he wasn’t though. he just didn’t need to bring up max verstappen.” you say, the name feeling foreign against your lips. looking across the room, you lock eyes with Charles who shifts rather uncomfortably in his seat, “maybe dating in Monaco is a bad idea.” he suggests.

Pierre barks out a laugh, “and what? just move solely for the men? that’s ridiculous.”

Charles replies with the shrug of his shoulders, “Monaco is all about cars and racing drivers. I’m sorry, y/n, you should expect that.”

“what you should expect is not everyone to want to be involved in this silly little sport, Charles. Monaco doesn’t have to always be about cars and your sport.” kika huffs out rather annoyed at how the conversation has shifted. you would be too, if you weren’t already annoyed about other things— ie: your date.

“he’s being overly dramatic, y/n,” Pierre hisses, his eyes volleying back and forth between his friend and you, “ignore him.”

Charles rolls his eyes mumbling words under his breath no one can make out. the conversation shifted back to you, your brother and his girlfriend consoling you while Charles sits in the corner bored. he’d come over due to Pierre’s invite for dinner, but what he didn’t expect to see was you.

for months you and Charles snuck around sleeping together until one day Charles started publicly dating. you were heartbroken, truly, but you could never show or say why and who had done it to you. the evidence was right under their noses, they just never took the time to look.

“I’m not being overly dramatic,” Charles says rolling his eyes, “I’m being reasonable. I’m sure there are men in Milan for you.”

“what’s up your ass today? seriously, just because she broke up with you doesn’t mean you have to take it out on y/n.”

a smile threatens to tug against your lips. it takes everything in you to turn away from Charles so he doesn’t see your reaction, but he can tell by the crinkles by your eyes. you’re finding this humorous.

“I didn’t come here to get chewed out.”

“well neither did I.” you turn your head back in his direction, eyes sinking in on him, he finds himself back in the uncomfortable gaze.

he hates how intense and blue your eyes get when you narrow in on someone. those ocean blue eyes you have carry a heavy amount of emotion without even having to bat an eyelash.

“let’s just have some more wine.” kika offers rising up off the couch and breaking the growing tension in the room.

“that sounds fine to me.”

—

the night air of Monaco whips your hair around off your shoulders. standing outside, you needed air from Charles and the tension, but it’s seemed to follow you despite your attempts.

“you know, I didn’t mean to behave the way I did,” he starts, closing the gap between you two, standing beside you, “you should be allowed to date someone who knows nothing about max verstappen or even me.”

“but you’re right,” you say. shifting your gaze from the cars that drive the twist and turns of Monaco, you look up at him and into his chocolate brown eyes, “I should expect that here. Monaco is full of drivers and driver wannabes.”

he snorts replaying the words ‘driver wannabes’ in his head, he remembers the days where he was one of those wannabes. time flew for him, and looking at you is the indication of that for him sometimes. your beauty flourished with age, and only seemed to take his full attention more and more as you grew up, and he wished maybe you weren’t trying to avoid the racing scene because he knows you’d be a great couple.

“don’t move to Milan,” he says moving an inch closer, arms brushing against one another. the action is just enough to erupt butterflies in your stomach, “what would I do without you here?” his face inches closer to yours, and he doesn’t realize he’s doing it but his eyes close and his lips softly land agains yours.

pulling away, you wrap your fingers around the curls in his hair and pull him closer to your body, “tell me, what would you do?” you ask, fingers trailing down the length of his body before undoing the button of his jeans, “would you be doing this?” you yank the zipper, take your fingers against the waistband and sink down to the cement while pulling his jeans to his ankles.

“n-no.” he hesitates, eyes flickering over the light inside the apartment for a brief second, but his thoughts vanish feeling your fingers gently graze his cock.

“fuck, y/n.” he whimpers and it’s pathetic but boosts your ego as your lips wrap around his tip.

his body shivers, knees stiff in place feeling your tongue swivel, lips suck him, and teeth gnaw him. how could he ever have thought someone else could do this to him? how could he ever imagine another woman when you’re on your brothers balcony sucking him off.

your nails dug deep into the skin of his hips, you feel him buckle, hips jutting outward. you can’t hear much of him, ears too red at the tips you only hear the sound of the blood rushing, but you know Charles. you know his weakness is you on your knees in front of him.

coming was quick— as he hadn’t been touched in ages like that— it was almost embarrassing for him, but you don’t mind. dusting yourself off, you take the glass of red wine that was sitting on the ledge of the balcony and watch Charles collect himself back to normal, “maybe I won’t go. you’ll miss me too much.” you press a kiss to his cheek before heading inside to find a movie playing.

“what are we watching?” you ask sinking into the cushion beside your big brother.

Charles rejoins, taking a seat beside kika, far enough distance between you. if that was how you were going to play him, like nothing happened, he could do that too.

tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @burberryfilms @imsorare @leclerc13 @smoothopz @lunnnix (sorry I didn’t tag everyone if you want to be tagged in future posts please let me know!)

[hier--soir]

bite the bullet

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two idiots finally bite the bullet and admit how they feel. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, age gap [20 years], angst, miscommunication, a meddling Tommy Miller, soft sleepy sex, oral [f], unprotected piv, masturbation [f], rimming, sixty-nine, both of them are assholes for a minute, resolved emotional tension. word count: 9.4k [i got carried away sorry!] series masterlist | masterlist this is part four of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, three.

Everything was wet.

Your feet squelched against the ground as you moved, little flicks of water splashing up against your shins with every step. Inside waterlogged shoes your socks clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Tommy was crouched underneath your sink, inspecting the u-bend of the pipe there, his lower half damp from the water that covered the floor of your kitchen.

“It’s definitely comin’ from in here,” his muffled voice came, and you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face in exasperation. “I can stop it, but it’s gonna take some time for the place to dry out. I’d say you’d better clear out for a few days, leave a few windows open.”

You’d had a nice day. A lovely day, even. And you’d been looking forward to curling up with a whiskey and a good book before bed. But upon returning home from the greenhouse, you’d been horrified to find the entrance of your home covered in a thin layer of water. Splashing down the hall, you’d discovered that the entire place was wet; a shiny film of liquid coating anything that touched the ground. The wooden floorboards were soaked to the bone with cold water. A fucking flood. Thankfully Tommy was right, and you trusted that the August humidity would naturally dry it out with enough time.

“I can’t just stay here? I didn’t think it was too bad,” you lied. “Could lay down some towels.”

Tommy laughed under the sink. “You know you’ll get sick if you’re sleeping around all this water – towels or no towels.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, gazing at the floor glumly. “Okay, yeah, I suppose I’ll uh… I’ll get some stuff together.”

“Joel would take you,” his said, and you snapped back to reality, staring at his back while he worked. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. When you didn’t respond, his head reappeared, and he looked at you curiously, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. “You and Joel are pals, right? Pals help each other out.”

Pals, you thought cynically. That’s one word for it.

Two weeks had slowly passed since the Peterson incident, and you’d only seen Tommy’s older brother a handful of times. There was still a tense energy between the two of you, so you’d been keeping your distance a little, allowing things to cool off. Bumping into each other here and there, dinner on the same table at the hall… but no alone time. No real time that would leave you two open to actually talking about it. That didn’t mean it didn’t play on your mind, though. Oh boy did it. In fact, most days you’d catch yourself gazing into a pot plant, thinking about that night. The way he’d taken you, made you tell him the details about Peterson, the way he’d showed you he fucking owned you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the way it had made you feel, and so you avoided it, even though your chest ached with the Joel-sized hole his absence had left in it. At least you weren’t so stubborn that you couldn’t admit to yourself how much you missed him.   

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Tommy gave a polite shrug, smirking at you. Testing you. A huff escaped your lips, and you broke eye contact, stretching out your shoulder. “Yeah, alright, I’ll ask him,” you agreed begrudgingly, brain whirring trying to come up with excuses. “It’s late though, and he might not want me there.”

“It’s not that late, but sure,” he chuckled knowingly, going back to work on the pipe. “When hell freezes over and Joel says no to you, you let me know.”  

An hour later, you were on your best friend’s porch, a bag slung over your arm, hesitating with your knuckle raised in the air. Taking a deep breath and running through what you were going to say, you finally willed yourself to rap your fist twice against the wood.

After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Joel, in a soft wrinkled t-shirt.

An easy, involuntary smile spread across your face upon seeing him. His beard was a little longer than he usually kept it, greys sparkling through the dark hair that framed his mouth so handsomely. He had clearly been settling down for the night, and he looked oh so cosy dressed in his sleep clothes.

“Hey man,” you offered up a sheepish smile.

He looked appropriately surprised to see you, considering you certainly hadn’t been knocking on his door at any point in the past fortnight. One of his eyebrows hitched upward, and he eyed the bag over your shoulder warily. “You skippin’ town or something? Who’d you piss off this time?”

You rolled your eyes and readjusted the duffel. “You gonna let me inside? This thing’s kind of heavy.”

He stepped back into the entryway with a grunt, allowing you to breeze past him and dump the bag onto the ground with a low thud. “Pipe under my sink is busted. Flooded the whole place today – Tommy said I should clear out for a day or two.”

He hummed, narrowed eyes raking over your face. “Oh yeah? So where you gonna go?” he teased, and relief rushed through your veins like warm water as you recognised the smirk threatening to take over his face.  

You gave him a small laugh and sighed, holding your arms out in mock surrender. “Come on, Miller,” you said. “Let me crash here – I’ll owe you one.”

“Owe me one, huh?” his eyes shone with mischief. “Well I like the sound of that.�� An odd, twisting sensation rippled through your stomach and you sucked your lips into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Sure,” you retorted. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” When the words left your lips you both stilled, staring at each other warily.

He hummed, eyes darkening a fraction. “You’re playin’ with fire,” is all he said, before bending down to pick the bag up off the ground and ushering you towards the stairs.

You wondered off ahead of him, and when you reached the landing you veered right, pushing open the door to the spare room. He didn’t follow you in immediately, instead pausing in the doorway with a frown plastered across his face. You hadn’t thought about where you’d be sleeping until the second you reached the top of the stairs, but you knew this was the right decision. Sharing a bed with Joel for a few days? Probably not a good idea. Unless of course, that was going to be how you repaid your debt…Thankfully, or unfortunately, he didn’t push it, dropping the bag gently in the corner of the room.

“Hope Ellie won’t be bothered I’m here for a few days,” you thought aloud. The tone noticeably shifted, and you almost at how Joel seemed to deflate.  

He leant an arm against the doorframe and sighed. “She ain’t spendin’ much time in the house these days,” he admitted quietly. “Stays in the bungalow or goes out. I doubt you’ll even see her.”

You hesitated for a second before asking, “Have you two spoken much lately?”

He scratched his chin for a moment. “You know the kid,” he shrugged. “She’s stubborn. M’tryin’ not to push it.” 

“It’ll be okay, Joel,” you offered softly. “She’ll come around.”

He assessed you silently, eyes flitting down your body before resting on your face once again, and then he stepped back into the hall. Coughing awkwardly, he raised a hand in a sort of farewell, and said, “Well, uh, you know where everything is. I’m gonna… I was gonna head to bed, I guess.”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching as he turned to head toward his room.

“Hey, Joel, wait,” you called, and he turned, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite place. I miss you, you wanted to say. I miss you, and I’m sorry things are off between us, and I wish we could forget it all and go back to normal, and I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. “Thank you,” you said instead, voice soft. “I really appreciate this.”

The look in his eyes dimmed a little but he offered up a smile. He nodded once, said, “Glad to have you here,” and then closed his bedroom door, and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After showering and unpacking the few things you brought along, you curled up in the foreign bed. The mattress was soft enough though, and the sheets smelled like the soap Joel used. Your body ached from a long day of work, muscles tense and wired from hauling heavy pots around under the sun. Soon enough, you began to relax enough to drift off to sleep. Only a few hours into the night though, your dreams were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps padding across the landing. A beam of soft yellow light was shone into the room, painting the inside of your eyelids orange. Cracking an eye open, you saw that the door was ajar, and a tall figure was peering in.

“Joel?” you asked groggily, dragging a knuckle over your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” his deep voice came, but he made no move to enter the room. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” he said softly, and your heart clenched.

Pulling the blankets open on the empty side of the bed, you didn’t even think before you said, “Get in.”

Your head fell heavily into the pillows, and sleep tried to pull you back under as you listened to Joel shuffle across the room and slide into the bed beside you. For a moment, he just laid there, a sizeable gap between you on the mattress. And then his warm, firm body was pressing up against your back, his large palm sliding over your hip to rest on your stomach and guide you back against his chest. His scent overwhelmed you, hints of mint and soap and pine tickling your nose, and fuck you had missed him. it was so familiar, and yet your body tingled as if it was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on you. Through the haze that settled over your sleep addled brain, you could feel him, stiff against your thigh.

“Jesus,” you teased drowsily, throwing caution to the wind by rubbing yourself back against him. “Were you having a dream about me or something?”

His nose traced a long down the back of your neck and you fought off a shiver. “Always dream about you.” If you weren’t so tired, that probably would’ve garnered a bigger reaction from you. But as it were, you just brought a hand down to rest over his on your stomach and gripped his fingers softly. “Was thinkin’ bout you being so close, yet still so far. Just down the hall, sleepin’ in my sheets…”

You hummed, warmth flooding your abdomen as he nudged his hips forward, rutting himself against you. His hand drifted out from under yours to slide up underneath your shirt, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your breast.

“Joel,” you murmured, eyelids heavy.

He hummed eagerly, planting a soft kiss underneath your ear.

“I‘m so tired,” you said regretfully. “It’s been a long day – can hardly keep m’eyes open.”

“Let me help you fall asleep,” is all he said, hand now freely roaming over your chest. His thumb lightly brushed the firm peak of your nipple and your whole body shuddered. “Just relax.”

You were vaguely aware of him pulling the covers off you and moving down the bed, dragging soft kisses down your stomach, before dragging your underwear down your legs. Slumping into the soft bed, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

Gentle, reverent kisses were pressed over your hip bones as he settled between your legs, pulling one of your thighs up to rest over his shoulder. His long fingers rubbed over the muscles in your leg, pressing down gently when he found knots, pulling deep sighs of contentment out of you.  

“That feels nice,” you whispered into the darkness, and you could’ve sworn you felt him grin against your hip.

When his nose dragged through the dark hair on your mound you twitched slightly, body waking up a little at the sensation. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and you relaxed again, humming lowly as his pressed a kiss against the inner most point of your thigh.

It felt like hours passed with him between your legs. At first you allowed yourself to slip in and out of near sleep, eyes closed as lax puffs of air escaped your mouth while his tongue dipped gently between your folds, giving you soft lazy strokes that warmed your insides. When the first bit of slick began to seep out of you, he groaned gratefully, licking and sucking at your entrance, exulting in your taste.  

It felt like you were dreaming. Laying pliant on the bed, you were fully at his mercy, allowing him to move your legs anyway he wanted to give himself better access. You could vaguely hear him murmuring against your skin, but couldn’t make out the words over your own sighs, smiling sleepily as his tongue lapped against you. He worked slowly, and you realised that it was as much for his enjoyment as it was for your own. You knew by that point how much Joel enjoyed going down on you. He had told you as much on multiple occasions; how he’d love to spend hours with his face trapped between your thighs. But he’d never had the chance, or the patience, to really do it.

The sounds of his enjoyment vibrated against your core, echoing through the room around you. The way he fucking moaned into your cunt never failed to drive you crazy, but in that moment you just smiled at the sound, enjoying how peaceful it was, how sweet.

Every now and then you’d lazily blink your eyes open and look down, expecting that at any moment he’d pull away, be over it. But he never did. Every time you looked his eyes were closed, hands gripping your thighs softly, thumbs stroking rhythmically against your skin as content breaths rushed out of his nose, and you’d close your eyes again, the dark image of him scorched into the inside of your eyelids, never to be forgotten.

You started to feel more awake when he finally gave his undivided attention to the achingly sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your core. Moving painfully slow, he glided his firm tongue across your clit, switching it up between swiping back and forth across it and then circling it.

“Oh,” you murmured lowly, voice hoarse from lack of use, but you couldn’t help the soft exclamation as your hips shifted upwards, suddenly searching for more. He didn’t change a thing, pace never increasing or slowing down, and it was perfect.

Your orgasm washed over you in gentle waves. Joel’s tongue swirled slow, gentle circles around your clit and your thighs tensed around his head, fingers reaching down to softly rake through his curls. He hummed happily, tongue lathing against you, enjoying every second of your release. Only pausing once your body stopped twitching and the muscles in your thighs relaxed against him, before kissing way up your stomach, your neck, under he was holding himself over you.

Eyes still closed, your hands drifted to the back of his neck and you pulled him down, his weight crushing against you but you didn’t care. Yours lips met tentatively, and for a moment that was all it was. A soft, gentle kiss. And then you felt him, straining against his briefs, pressed between your thighs, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. It was messy and slow, tongues tangling together, teeth knocking awkwardly, and you found yourself smiling into his mouth. It should have unnerved you. Should’ve been enough to make you stop, turn your head away and make him fuck you rough so you would forget how intensely intimate the moment felt. But you didn’t.

“You should sleep,” he murmured against your lips, pulling his hips back a little so his erection wasn’t so obvious.

“You should come inside me,” you whispered back, reaching down to grip the band of his underwear and tug them down over his hips. He groaned and kissed you again before reaching down to free himself from the confines of his underwear.  

No other words were exchanged as he adjusted himself, and then he was pressing into you, his needy moans spilling out against your neck while your hand snuck underneath his shirt, fingernails gliding down his back as he filled you completely.

“God, I missed you,” he choked out, voice cracking. You whimpered softly. “You’re so wet.”

“Made me feel so good, Joel,” you preened, kissing the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he pulled his face out of your neck to look at you, and you nodded, staring at him through bleary eyes. Joel kissed you again. A long, yearning kiss that made your heart throb, and it didn’t take long until he was falling apart on top of you, shaking against your arms that wrapped around him, held him against your chest. You whispered praises in his ear as he came, hips grinding into yours, pushing himself so deep inside that it had you gasping into his mouth. It was so unlike any other time you’d ever slept with him, and alarm bells rang somewhere far in the deep recess of your brain, but you ignored them. You’d missed each other, and you’d both earned a little softness after the time apart. And so the two of you fell asleep like that; tangled in each other’s arms, with him still inside you.

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. The light was harsh, and you cursed yourself for going to sleep without drawing the curtains. You went to sit up in the bed but stopped suddenly, realising how hot you were. With a soft start, you glanced down and understanding jolted through you like a flash of lightning. Joel’s house, you remembered; you were at Joel’s house. But what you hadn’t expected to find was Joel still in the bed, arms coiled around you like wire while he snored quietly in your ear. For as many times the two of you had slept together, neither of you had ever slept over. It was an unspoken rule, and one that had never been difficult to follow. But he’d broken it… or you’d both broken it, maybe. Keeping your body as still as possible, you found yourself breathing deeply, trying to maintain the allusion of still being asleep to avoid rousing him from his slumber. Frustratingly, your heart pounded in your chest, brain zeroing in on every part of your body that touched his.

His soft lips brushed the back of your neck, heavy breaths puffing against your skin. A solid knee was wedged between your legs, one hand lazily gripping your breast. The insides of your thighs were sticky where his come had leaked out of you overnight, and your eyes widened at the sensation. 

What surprised you the most wasn’t that you didn’t hate waking up with him beside you. No, what surprised you most was that you did like it. In fact, you found yourself longing to relax into his arms and go back to sleep. But common sense reared its head, and you slowly slipped out of his grasp, moving slowly so as not to wake him while you dragged yourself out of the bed. Staring down at Joel, a pang of fondness rush through your chest. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead, plump lips pushed out into a pout as he breathed deeply, hand resting on the empty bed where you had just laid. His breathing hitched momentarily, and you froze, realising how odd it would be for him to wake up and catch you standing there naked, staring. Trying not to give it another thought, you quietly collected some clothes from your bag, and slipped out of the room to start your day.

Hours passed in the greenhouse. You distracted yourself with cucumber seeds and tomato plants, pushing Joel out of your mind as you worked under the sweltering sun. Underneath the glass roof of the nursery, the heat multiplied, and by the time your shift was over you were covered in sweat, shirt ticking uncomfortably tight to your back. You stopped by at the community hall for dinner and ate alone, your brain a whirlwind of thoughts of Joel, Joel, Joel. You couldn’t shake the feeling that had lingered in your bones all day; the aching desire to have stayed in bed with him, to have relaxed into his arms and cuddled him for the rest of the morning. Your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

“Christ,” you mumbled aloud through a mouthful of food, rolling your eyes at yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy, but the worst part was understanding that this must’ve been how he’d been feeling for weeks already.

I’ve never asked you for anything. Not for anything more than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.

That’s what he’d said, two weeks ago, the day he found out about Peterson. The words played in your head like a mantra. Words that you had firmly avoided bringing up, ones you’d never pushed for an explanation about. You’d chosen to sweep them under the rug, and yet, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t fucking forget them.

By the time you returned to his house you discovered him sitting on the couch downstairs, engrossed in a book. It was the picture of domesticity. The sweet scent of vanilla floated through the air towards you, and you noted the small candle burning on the table beside him.

Staying in Joel’s home, even for just one night, you’d noticed so much more about it than ever before. There was something interesting to look at everywhere you turned, and sweet-scented candles were just the tip of the iceberg. He left random objects littered across countertops, like little treasures for you to stop and inspect during your travels throughout the house. Wood that he’d whittled into interesting shapes, books that he’d read the first few pages of and then abandoned, countless mugs in odd places with dark brown coffee stains at the bottom of them. It was homey, and warm, and subconsciously you found yourself enjoying the insight into his most private space – into the things he did when he was truly alone.

Joel hadn’t noticed you come in, so you seized the opportunity to watch him from the doorway for a moment. He was wearing his comfortable clothes again, and a thin set of reading glasses were perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. A quick flash of heat tore through your stomach. You’d never seen him wear those before, and it had you stumped. The glasses, paired with the salt and pepper through his beard and hair, reminded you of his age. Twenty years older than you, and still the most handsome man you knew.

You finally broke the silence, announcing yourself by asking, “What’re you reading?”

Joel’s head snapped up, and he stared at you over the top of his glasses. Shutting the book quickly, he straightened up on the couch. “Uh, Brave New World,” he lied, flipping the book so you couldn’t see the cover.

You hummed, unconvinced, and bit down on your bottom lip to hide a smirk. Tommy had told you once before that Joel was a sucker for gothic romance novels, but you’d never truly believed him until that moment. From where you stood, you recognised the tattered copy of Wuthering Heights that had gone missing from your bedroom a few months prior.

A flush rose in his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly, picking up a mug that you hadn’t noticed on the floor by his feet. It was cute; a little beige ceramic thing, with an owl painted on it.

“You see the patrol roster for tomorrow?” he spoke into the mug, swiftly changing the subject.

“I did,” you murmured. What you didn’t acknowledge, was that you’d also seen Peterson and Davis’ names on the list for the morning patrol. “Should be nice. We haven’t gone to the ski lodge in a while.”

A vivid memory of you two fucking up there raced through your mind, and a low heat simmered across your face as you remembered Jesse and Dina almost catching you once. Shaking the thought from your mind, you looked at him again to find him gripping the mug tightly, lips pursed in thought.

“We haven’t,” he agreed lowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched a little. “You haven’t been gettin’ called outside the gates much at all these days.”

This is it, you thought hungrily. This is the moment he tells you how he can’t wait to fuck you there tomorrow while you’re supposed to be patrolling. This is the moment he tells you he can’t even wait until tomorrow, and he drags you upstairs to his bed. Warmth flooded through your thighs, and you held your breath, staring at him.

But Joel didn’t say that. Instead, you watched dejectedly from the doorway as he rose slowly from the couch and tucked the tattered book underneath his arm. “Well,” he coughed, turning towards the stairs. “I’m gonna get some shut eye. It’ll be a warm day, and I’d better get some rest before we head out.”

You watched him move towards the stairs, heart beating painfully fast against your ribs.

“I’m actually not tired,” you blurted out. Joel paused. His left hand gripped the banister, and you could’ve sworn it might break in half based on the way his knuckles went white.

“Well, I am,” he said over his shoulder, before padding up towards his room , not even turning to give you a second look.

You tossed and turned for an hour, staring at the ceiling wide awake. The linen sheets stuck to your sweaty skin, making you feel claustrophobic enough to kick them to the end of the bed. You waited for him. Every creak and groan the old house made had your ears twitching, eyes glancing eagerly toward the door, expecting it to creak open and reveal him sneaking in through the darkness.

And when it became clear that he wasn’t coming, you pushed away the uncomfortable feeling it brought, and snaked a hand past the band of your underwear. Your fingers raked over the coarse hair there, teasing yourself for a moment, before you slid a finger through your damp folds. Collecting your slick, you dragged it up to coat your throbbing nerves and sighed in relief.

Your middle finger dragged quick circles over your clit, and all you could picture was Joel above you, fucking you while wearing those stupid fucking glasses. Cursing him in your mind, you pressed a finger past your entrance, and huffed in frustration at how it paled in comparison to the thickness of his digits. You imagined the way the glasses would fall to the tip of his nose, almost falling off his face while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. In an attempt to stifle the soft moans trying to escape your mouth, you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers moving quicker against yourself. And you came like that; hand down your underwear, rubbing yourself frantically, thinking about nothing but him.

It was hot, and the skin of your thighs chafed painfully as you and Joel ambled silently through the stables, getting your horses from their stalls to saddle up. He hadn’t said much to you all morning and you were trying not to read into it, but the fraught silence had you on edge.  

You winced upon spotting Davis and Peterson standing by the gate, chatting while they loaded their rifles. Lloyd caught your eye and smiled, offering a short nod in your direction. You returned the nod before looking back down and fiddling with Japan’s saddle, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“Gimme a sec,” he muttered. “Gotta go pick Jesse’s brain.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued tugging on the straps of the saddle, until your skin prickled, a presence looming over your shoulder.

“Should we see if we can swap partners?” that voice sounded, and you turned to see Lloyd smirking suggestively at you. “Send Davis and Miller out East together, and you and me could head to the ski lodge?”

Your palms dampened a little and your eyes darted around the stables. There was no denying that Lloyd Peterson was a handsome guy. He was young, somewhere in his early-twenties. He had bright green eyes that shone in contrast against the dark brown hue of his skin. Straight, bright white teeth almost blinded you whenever he smiled, and you’d have to be a robot not to be effected by it. Past his shoulder, you spotted Joel hovering at the mouth of the stables, gaze trained on the pair of you. Caught, he turned quickly, muttering under his breath as he stalked off toward Jesse.

You looked back to Lloyd and shook your head once. “I don’t think so,” you said. “Gonna stick with Miller today.”

Not giving him much chance to respond, you gripped Japan’s reigns and led her out of the building. Joel and Jesse were talking in hushed tones by the gate, and you walked in their direction, pausing a few metres away when you noticed how tense the conversation seemed to be. Jesse was frowning at the older man, shaking his head slowly.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice came again, and you turned with a sigh, raising a hand to block out the sun as you stared up at him. “Can we talk?”

“Talk,” you rushed out, glancing to the side just as Joel appeared beside you, holding out a rifle. You shouldered it quickly, noticing the way Lloyd seemed to balk at the older man’s presence. “Peterson,” you urged, eager to get it over with. “Get on with it.”

He spared another awkward glance at Joel before speaking in a lowered voice. “Did I do something wrong?” You cringed, knowing Joel could hear every word, and yet he didn’t move a muscle. It seemed he wasn’t going anywhere, eyes trained on the man, uninterested in offering the pair of you any privacy to finish your conversation. “I thought we had a good time, y’know? But you’ve been avoiding me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you replied plainly, even as the thought of him telling Davis about fucking you flashed through your mind. Joel was deadly quiet, eyes flicking between the pair of you like he was watching a game of tennis. You sighed deeply, wishing this wasn’t happening in front of him. In a moment of almost… shame, you realised that you didn’t want Joel to get the wrong idea. Didn’t want him to think that anything else had happened, or would ever happen, between you and Peterson.

“Then why won’t yo-“

“Why don’t you back off kid,” Joel interrupted suddenly, and your shoulders tensed, skin prickling at his harsh tone. “She’s not interested.”

Lloyd flinched at the words, and he looked to you, waiting for you to say something, to refute Joel’s claim. But you were distracted by the sudden warmth in your abdomen, and when you didn’t react quick enough he scoffed quietly, spinning on his heel and walking back where Davis was waiting with their horses. When you looked at Joel, he had a pleased smirk on his face, and you felt your stomach fall somewhat, guilt spreading through you at the way Lloyd rode out of the settlement without looking back.

The ride to the ski lodge was long. For the most part of the three hour trek, you rode alongside each other in silence, until finally you couldn’t help yourself, thoughts tumbling from your mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly.

Joel looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and didn’t say a word.

“He was already embarrassed,” you added. His top lip curled up into a mean smirk.

“Peterson’s an ass. He should be embarrassed.”

A huff escaped your mouth and then he was turning, looking at you fully now with his eyebrows pinched together.

“What, your little boyfriend can’t handle some friendly teasin’?” he sneered, the change in mood so sudden you almost fell off your horse. And all the warmth you’d felt, every soft yearning part inside of you toward him, you pushed it to the side and focused on the confusion instead, allowing it to morph into pure anger. You were seeing red; furious with him for never being able to just see reason.

“Oh, fuck off Joel,” you scowled. “I’m not doing this with you today.” You kicked your heel against Japan’s hide and rode ahead, not listening for a reaction.

The higher the pair of you rode up the mountain, the hotter it got. By the time the horses were tied up by a trough of water and the pair of you were walking into the lodge, sweat was rolling down your skin in rivulets. A headache brewed in your temples, and frustration weighed heavily on your chest as Joel huffed and puffed around the room. Even being able to hear his breathing across the room while he scrawled in the logbook was enough to set your skin on edge. Eager to get some space from the tense atmosphere, you gruffly told him that you were taking first patrol, before shouldering your rifle and stalking back outside into the heat.

“You idiot,” you scowled to yourself, storming through the trees. Shame burned in your chest like a wildfire as you thought back to the night before. Touching yourself in his house, making yourself come thinking about him, wondering if he’d fuck you at the ski lodge. God, you felt like a teenager with a hopeless crush.

Your feet planted in the dirt, the word ringing in your head like an alarm. Eyes wide, you gazed into the trees.

“Nope,” you mumbled, starting to walk again slowly. “No, no, no.”

“Y’know they say talkin’ to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Fuck.

“What are you doing?” you turned quickly, staring him down from through the thick trees. “I told you I’d take first patrol.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Saw you storm off too,” Joel rolled his eyes, propping his hands against his hips. “What’s your problem?”

“Jesus,” you grinned sarcastically. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, stepping forward. The tan skin of his neck glistened in the sunlight, and you hated yourself for wanting to know how it tasted. Thankfully, hatred and anger were easier emotions to tap into than whatever the fuck you had been feeling about him for the past few weeks.  

“It means,” you ground out. “That you’re a nasty old bastard.” His face darkened, lips twisted into an angry snarl, but you continued. “Peterson’s not my fucking boyfriend, so you can give it a rest okay? I had it handled.”

“Sure,” he laughed bitterly. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it, havin’ him hit on you right in front of me. You get off on the attention, from him and from me. I bet you loved havin’ me step in, tell him to fuck off.”

Your face was on fire as you glared at him, acutely aware of how the tension had spiked between the pair of you. Entire body tensed, you squared your shoulders and stared him down. “Are you fucking serious, Joel?” you asked lowly, eyebrows raising.

“Deadly,” he grit his teeth. “Don’t forget that I know you, baby, better than anyone.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” you spat desperately, turning around and walking quickly in the opposite direction.

“Oh yeah,” he called, the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you making your stomach drop. “Walk away, sunshine. Let’s just not talk about it, right? I know that’s your favourite thing to do. Walk away, and act like nothing happened.”

“Oh my god!” you shouted. “Grow up, you fucking assho-“ But as you spoke, your foot landed awkwardly on a patch of moss. You heard a low popping sound before you shrieked as your legs flew out from underneath you. You hit the ground awkwardly, ass slamming into the ground, and dirt sprayed into the air around you.

“Shit,” you hissed, moving to get up but cringing as a sharp pain shot through your ankle. The flesh around your shin was already swelling, and you cursed audibly, reaching down to rest your hand against it only to wince at the dull pain spreading through your entire foot.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him say, and then his warm hands were on your shoulders, and he was crouching beside you. Breathing heavily, you stared as your ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball. “Come on, let’s get you back,” Joel said, gripping your elbow to lift you up.

“Get off,” you snapped, shoving him back. He stumbled a little and then stood, glaring down at you. “I can do it myself.”

“Clearly you fuckin’ can’t.”

Eager to prove a point, you dug your fingers into the dirt and pushed yourself up, and then began limping back towards the ski lodge.

You moved slowly with Joel trailing just a few steps behind, close enough that you could hear his breathing, and the way he muttered inaudibly whenever you stumbled. When you almost tripped trying to step over a tree branch, he snapped, appearing at your side in an instant and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Joel,” you warned lowly, but he interrupted.

“Would you stop bein’ such a brat,” he snarled. “You might’ve broken your fuckin’ ankle, just let me help you god damnit.”

You grumbled under your breath but didn’t fight him again, silently grateful to lean on him and get some weight off the injury. His chest rose and fell quickly as he led you back to the lodge, and you could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“It’s not broken,” you muttered. “Probably just a sprain.”

“Good,” he grunted, helping you up the steps and into the building. “Idiot.”

“Jeez, thanks, Joel,” you said bitterly. “You’re a real pal.”

His hand gripped your waist tighter, before lowering you onto the couch. “Any time, bud.”

Joel stormed into the kitchen and returned moments later with a bottle of water, tossing it at you before slamming down onto the sofa beside you. “Jesse and Dina will be here in a few hours, just keep it elevated until then.”

“You got it doc,” you rolled your eyes, eagerly gulping down the water even though it had gotten uncomfortably warm in his pack.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, your ankle throbbing where it rested atop the coffee table.  

“I don’t fuckin’ get you,” Joel finally breathed, and you looked to him with a raised eyebrow and a snarky comment on your lips, only to find him with his head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“You heard me,” he said. “I don’t fuckin’ get you. You go two weeks avoidin’ me, I hardly see you, then you’re knocking on my door, askin’ to stay? And then today you’re cursin’ my goddamn name. Throw me a fuckin’ bone, darlin’, cause I got no idea where I stand with you.”

Your lips parted, all the breath in your lungs rushing out of you in one fell swoop. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown settled across his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. He didn’t look angry, you realised. He looked confused; he looked hurt. Your stomach rolled.

“I could say the same,” you started pathetically, and then his eyes flashed open and he was staring back at you with those dark brown eyes that fucking killed you.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he said blankly, eyes darting around your face.

Your lips felt numb as you slowly asked, “What?”

“You left,” he said quietly. “You fuckin’ left me, and I just don’t know if I can keep pretendin’ anymore. Pretend that this doesn’t… mean anything to me. Pretend that I’m fine with… this. Don’t know if I can keep doing it if you’re just gonna leave. My heart can’t take it.”

It felt like time stood still for a moment. Outside one of the open windows, you could hear the trees rustling in the hot summer wind. Your ankle ached. Joel kept staring at you.

“You know that’s the best I’ve slept in years?” he asked softly, licking his lips. “Slept so fuckin’ sound with you next to me. No nightmares – hell, I didn’t even dream. And then I woke up, and you were gone, and I almost wished it had never happened. So that I wouldn’t have to know how good it felt to have you, wouldn’t have to try and sleep without you every night after, knowing exactly what I was missing.”

“Joel,” you tried again but he shook his head, raising a hand in the air to stop you.

“Just let me,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking. “Let me say this. Just once, and then I’ll let it be, okay? I won’t bring it up again, and we can go back to the way things were befo-“

“Stop,” you croaked out, tears swimming in your eyes. “Shut up for a second. I,” you paused, eyes darting over his face, searching for understanding. “I didn’t want to leave, okay? But I’m scared Joel. Jesus, I’m so scared of this.”

“Scared?”

“Of this feeling that won’t go away. Of wanting to stay. I’ve been trying to push it down, to ignore it, and it doesn’t fucking work, no matter what I do. I’m so scared that I’ve fucked up our friendship, that I’m going to lose yo-“

“Never,” he shook his head firmly, hand reaching out to squeeze your knee. “Listen, you’re not losin’ me, okay? That's never gonna happen.”

“But Joel,” you sighed shakily. “If we push things further, there’s no going back. Don’t you understand?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he admitted quietly. “I think it’s been too late for me for a while now.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, and when you spoke again you could hear the fear in your voice. “I don’t know if I can be what you want.”

Joel chuckled humourlessly and sighed, squeezing your thigh again.

“It’s you,” he said. “That’s what I want. You don’t have to do anythin’, don’t have to change or be anythin’ else. I just want you.” His eyes shone in earnest, and you couldn’t help but surge forward, planting your lips against his. He returned the kiss with fervour, parting your lips with his tongue and gripping the sides of your face in a searing grip.

He tasted like salt and mint and your head was swimming, consumed by him. Your fingertips were numb as they raced over his body, desperate to touch him everywhere all at once. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until his hands joined yours, carefully undoing them all until you could pry it off him.

Pulling back from the kiss, you allowed your eyes to rake over his exposed chest, taking in the sight of his tanned, hairy chest, littered with scars and freckles and you felt the urge to kiss every single one of them. So you did. You pushed him back into the couch and straddled him, ignoring the way your ankle cried out at the movement, and attached your lips to his collarbone, licking and sucking your way across his torso. Showing reverence to every imperfection on his skin. Your tongue swiped past one of his nipples and he jolted beneath you, hands dragging under the fabric of your shirt to rest on your back. You could feel him growing hard beneath you and you smiled against his skin before rolling your hips down against his. He was murmuring your name in between sighs, scratching at your skin, revelling in the kisses you sponged across his chest.

Your eyes trailed upwards to meet his. “Want your cock in my mouth,” you whispered, and his face crumpled in on itself, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping your hands tightly before pushing you off him. He stood up and in one quick movement he knocked the coffee table over, before he was undoing his belt and stripping his pants off. He helped you off the couch slowly, before lowering you down onto the carpet, crouching down to rest beside you. His large hands roamed across your chest, gripping the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward to expose your breasts, your aching nipples peaked and begging to be touched.

“Fuck,” he repeated, harsher this time, leaning over you to plant his mouth on your chest. His teeth scraped across your sensitive skin and you whined, gripping the nape of his neck as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked gently.

“Joel,” you mewled, tugging his face back up to yours for a brief kiss. “I mean it,” you breathed into his mouth. “Need you in my mouth so bad. M’gonna make you feel so good, I swear.” Within a second, he flipped the two of you over so his back was against the ground and you were straddling his hips. You grinned triumphantly, shifting your hips back as you kissed down his chest, moving your body down until you were straddling his shins, and pulling his briefs down with you.

His cock rested proudly against his stomach, thick and swollen and begging to be touched. The head was a deep shade of red, small beads of precum weeping out of his tip as he stared at you, patiently waiting for you to make a move. You didn’t waste a second before leaning down and gliding your tongue softly over the tip, swiping up his salt and humming at the taste. A sharp inhale whistled past his teeth, and you watched his eyes clamp shut at the sensation, hand forming a fist at his side. Gently, you took his hand and raised it to your head, encouraging him to touch you. He obliged, fisting your hair in his hand, grip tightening as you parted your lips around him and let him sink into your warm mouth. A long, drawn-out moan left his mouth and your cunt pulsed in response, the warmth between your thighs suddenly impossible to ignore.

“S-so good for me,” he groaned, pulling your hair tighter. “Love your mouth, I love it. That’s it, baby, open up a little more for me, show me how much you can take.”

The sharp sting on your scalp made you moan around him, and he cursed, undoubtedly feeling the vibration. The weight of him against your tongue was intoxicating, and you bobbed your head up and down slowly, his cock gliding in and out of your mouth easily, slick with your spit. You’d missed the taste of him, missed the sensation of him filling you up to the point where it was hard to breathe, and yet you still wanted more. You pressed forward, eager to feel him fill you up, but when his cock brushed the back of your throat he was gripping your hair and pulling you off him.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and you looked up in confusion. His bottom lip was bitten raw, and his eyes were a darker brown than normal as he gazed at you. When you didn’t move, he was pulling you up and turning your body so your back was to him, and only then did you realise what he meant. He pulled your shorts down your legs, dragging your underwear with them, and then he carefully tugged one of your knees up and over his shoulder, so you were straddling his chest. Slowly, you shuffled back on your knees until your wet heat was hovering over his face, and you leaned down to let your chest rest against his.

“Baby,” Joel sighed. “So fuckin’ perfect. Such a pretty pussy. Can never get enough of you.”

You clenched around nothing, and heard him groan, signalling that he’d seen it. Without warning, his tongue dipped between your folds and you gasped, pushing your hips back to give him a better angle, before taking him back into your mouth. And it was nothing like it had been two nights before. He wasn’t gentle, or slow, or relaxed. No, Joel was relentless.

His tongue moved rhythmically against you, and you tried desperately to focus, harsh breaths leaving your nose as you moved your mouth lazily along his length. You pulled back and lathed your tongue around the head of him, tasting the salt that dripped out of him. He grunted into you and you smiled, stroking him slowly as you sucked the tip, grinding your tongue into the sensitive skin just underneath his head. Joel’s hips bucked up off the ground, and your hand left his length, gripping his waist firmly to hold him down while you took him into your mouth again. You pushed yourself as far as you could, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he brushed the back of your throat. His beard scratched against your inner thighs deliciously, and you decided you loved it a little longer. And then suddenly, his tongue moved away from your clit and he was licking broad strokes along the entirety of your core, and then over your entrance, and then… his tongue flicked all the way back and into new territory.

You flinched forward, his cock surging deeper into your throat and you gagged around him as you explored the new feeling. You moaned, eyes screwing shut at the foreign sensation, and you felt your legs begin to shake against his sides. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you down harder against his face, ruthlessly dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to your hole, until you were tearing your mouth away him and sitting up, grinding yourself down desperately against his face. Arching your back, you writhed on top of him, crying out hoarsely. Every strong flick of his tongue felt like an electric shock jolting through your body, and he continued until you were panting and twitching on top of him, and then you let go. The orgasm tore through you, a shout falling from your lips as you rode his face, gripping his thighs for leverage as your entire body shuddered with the intensity. He didn’t let up; licking and sucking and kissing, his moans vibrating through your core until you were whimpering and dragging yourself off him, clit aching from the pressure.

You were still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Joel pressed your back down onto the carpet, nudged your knees apart so he could fit between them, and pushed himself inside you. A sweet, low burn blazed in your abdomen with every inch he gave to you. The wet sound of you sucking him in might have embarrassed you, but the look of awe on his face as he stared down at where you were connected just made you feel powerful.

His thrusts were strong, the sweaty skin of your thighs smacking against each other noisily filling the air, mixing with your breathless moans of his name.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he was saying, but you weren’t listening, eyes rolling back in your head as he played with your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cried out at a particularly hard thrust, stomach tensing as the head of his cock grinded against your g-spot.

“There?” he panted, and you nodded frantically, mouth hanging open as he pressed against it over and over again, groaning at the way you tensed around him.

Urgent sounds left your lips as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, and you watched with wide eyes as his hand trailed down your chest to rest over your mound, his thumb slipping between your folds to press gently against your throbbing clit. Your back arched up from the ground and you choked out a moan as he rubbed you in slow circles, a stark contrast to the way he drilled into you with his cock.  

“Come,” Joel encouraged and you whimpered, eyes screwing shut as the overwhelming feeling soared through you. His free hand landed over your throat and your eyes flew open, looking up at him as he applied soft pressure to the sides of your neck. “C’mon baby, let me have it. I can feel you, you’re so fuckin’ close, give it to me, please, I want it.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you gasped against his hold, bucking up into him as he fucked you roughly. You twitched and writhed on the ground, his thumb never stopping its movements against your clit as you cried out his name.

And somewhere amidst it all, his movements slowed. His hands turned soft on your body, head dropping down to drag gentle wet kisses along the skin of your neck.  

“So good,” he praised lowly. “So beautiful.” Your heart soared in your chest, and you smiled drowsily, body tingling as he continued to give you gentle thrusts.  

“Kiss me,” you said shyly, and Joel smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into his mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip as you draped your heavy arms around his neck, pinning his torso down against yours. “Fuck me like this,” you told him. “Want to feel you close to me.”

He nodded, starting up a slow rhythm, only ever pulling out halfway before pressing back into you. You were both slick with sweat, and you wiped his forehead gently before raking your fingers through his thick messy curls. His face was red from exertion, and you thumbed his cheekbones gently. A heavy sigh fell from your mouth. Still recovering from your previous orgasm, you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to build you up for another one.

“Give me one more,” he begged, sponging feather light kisses over your eyelids, your cheeks, down your neck. “Want to feel you come with me, baby, please. Just one more, I know you can.”

You gripped his hair and kissed him deeply, your tongues tangling together as he moved his hips slowly, cock dragging in and out of you at a devastating pace. Joel pulled back to watch you, eyes gazing down with adoration as he moved above you. That familiar liquid heat began to burn in your stomach, curling through every fibre of your being, and you could see in his face that he was close. And there was something else there too. Something you couldn’t place; simmering in his eyes, lingering on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. His hips began to stutter against yours, a choked gasp of your name falling from his lips as he quickened his pace until you were coming together, holding each other tightly on the ground of the ski lodge. He moaned heavily against your mouth, and you throbbed around him as his spend coated your walls, warm and slick, squeezing out around his cock as he moved.

As a low, warm silence filled the room, you worked to control your breathing, body shaking against his as he pulled out of you. You whimpered at the empty feeling, missing the weight of him already. But he didn’t go far.

Joel laid down on the carpet beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. Your fingers trailed over the skin of his stomach, smiling at the goosebumps that developed in your wake. Mine.

His hand caught yours and he lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. You leaned forward to rest your face in the rook of his neck, and he sighed in contentment, trailing his fingers down your back.

“Hey Joel?” you murmured against his skin.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I called you a nasty old bastard.”

Joel laughed and tightened his grip around your back, tugging you closer to his chest. “I forgive you.”

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : lots of arguing ; reader insecurities and self doubts ; depressed Hyunjin ; Hyunjin is also kind of an asshole ; still very angsty ; Word Count : 2.3k Request : I'm not sure if you guys will request for part 2... I'm writing from the future! A/N : I'm writing this prior to part 1 even being released so, I'm hoping this is what you guys want to happen with part 2! (Writing this after I finished writing this part and you all are definitely going to get a part 3... After I write 2 parts for the rest of the guys. I'll let this one simmer)

Hyunjin sat alone in the once shared apartment, canceling all plans and events that had priorly scheduled for him to attend. How was he supposed to go out and pretend to have fun when everything that he loved and would want to come home to had left him? He had never felt so alone, and even still, he knew that the way he was feeling right now wasn’t even close to the way he had made you feel for so long. 

He couldn’t even go to the dorms to try to find some kind of comfort there, not just because he knew that all of the guys would inevitably agree that he was in the wrong, but because he felt that he didn’t deserve that kind of comfort. He didn’t deserve to be made to feel better, not after what he had done to you and put you through. Even though his phone rang and vibrated constantly, he refused to answer for only one reason, and that reason is that none of the calls or texts were from you. 

You were avoiding him, rightfully so, but it broke his heart to know that this was his fault, and to not know what was going on with you and his baby. You had a lot of friends in America, friends that he never looked at as threats before, but now he was nervous, he was terrified. You were one of the most beautiful girls in the world, without a doubt, any guy would be lucky to have you… He didn’t want anyone else to have you though. What if he had just pushed you into the arms of another guy? Not only would he lose the love of his life, but he would lose his baby too… He couldn’t lose the both of you… He didn’t want to lose either of you. 

It had been a whole month since you left Korea… It had been your home for so long that going back home felt weird to you. Nothing felt the same as it did before, everything looked different. It hadn’t seemed like that long that you had been gone, but now that you were back, it felt like it had been forever. 

For the first 2 weeks you waited for Hyunjins phone call, laying awake at night wondering if he had read your note yet. You wondered how he would react to it, how he would feel… Maybe you had gone too far running back home and taking the baby with you. Maybe you should have just talked to him about it. 

Then the next week passed and the week after that, and you came to the conclusion that he either never came back to the house, forgetting about you and the baby entirely, or he just read the note and didn’t care that you were gone. You were leaning more towards the one where he didn’t care though, it was obvious to you that he never cared. That’s when you allowed yourself to really start living. With the help of your family, it was easier to get settled in. You had a job now, you’d be starting it soon while your parents watched your daughter for you. You had even started looking at apartments so that you wouldn’t have to stay with your family forever. 

Everything seemed to be falling into place perfectly, at least until your phone started vibrating on your nightstand at 7 in the morning. It was the worst hour, especially since your daughter hadn’t even gone to sleep until 4. You were exhausted and disoriented, and while you didn’t want to answer the call, the constant vibrating made it quite clear that whoever it was wasn’t going to stop calling until you picked up. 

“What?” Your voice exuded your anger, even though it was no louder than a whisper, you were pissed at whoever it was for keeping you awake and potentially waking up your daughter as well. You didn’t even know who was on the other end, but whoever it was had better have a damn good reason for calling at this hour. 

“H-Hey…” A shaky voice croaked out, shaky breaths following the stammered out word. “Is it a bad time? I… I’m not very good with time differences and… I just wanted to hear your voice… And I… I want to know how the baby is doing? How… How is my girl?” It was obviously Hyunjin, you didn’t even need to fully listen to what he was saying to know that it was him, you knew his voice better than anyone else’s. 

And that’s why you were even more irritated. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s 7 in the goddamn morning, of course it’s a bad time!” You seethed, although quietly, still aware that your daughter was sleeping and hoping that you’d be able to end this call fast enough to get back to the warmth of your bed and fall back asleep. “She’s sleeping. I should be sleeping. You pick a fine time to finally learn how to pick up the damn phone and get in touch though. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.” 

“You stole my daughter… You practically kidnapped her… I could have gone to the police, I could have done a lot of things and… And all I wanted to do was hear from you… I wanted to know how she was doing.” Even though he was still crying as he said it, his words absolutely infuriated you. Your hands were trembling with anger, your entire body was shaking, it felt like you would completely collapse if you kept standing, so you made your way to the couch and dropped down onto it. All semblance of tiredness was gone now, completely replaced by such an irate fury you couldn’t even explain. 

“Don’t you dare try to pull that shit with me. Your daughter this, your daughter that, why is she only your daughter when I finally get fed up with your shit and leave? You could have heard from me at any point in the last 13 fucking months. You could have seen her and saw how she was doing for the last 13 fucking months, Hyunjin. You didn’t care for how we were doing before, so don’t you try to say that you care now.” 

“I was working!” He shouted into his phone, the high pitch of it causing the speaker on your end to ring in your ear. “You could have called me at any time though and I would have picked up! Why are you putting all of the blame on me?! You didn’t even call or text to check up on me or see how I was doing? Why am I always the one who has to call?!” 

“You’re such a piece of shit!” You shouted, wanting nothing more than to throw your phone across the room, but you also wanted to let him have it. You wanted to go off on him, you wanted to scream at him and tell him how awful he was. “I was working too! I was raising your daughter while trying to be a fucking home maker and keep the fucking house clean and cook dinner. I couldn’t even leave the fucking house because of the attention that you brought onto me and her when you announced that she was here and you just get to come and go as you please while I was trapped in the fucking house. I didn’t have to call you or text you to see how you were doing though because all I had to do was open the internet or Youtube and see all of the wonderful things that you were out doing while I was trapped in those four walls. You should have called because it would have let me know that at least you were thinking about us… But obviously you weren’t.” 

Hyunjin sighed loudly, and there was a short period of silence before he started talking again, quieter once more like he had been at the beginning of the call. “That’s not true… I thought about you all the time. You can ask Felix, you can ask any of the guys. You and the baby are all I talked about when I was away from home.” He sounded like he was pleading, but you were pissed, an entire year of pent up frustration was bound to be let loose at some point, you were just happy that you were able to let it all out on the one who had been the cause of all of it in the first place. 

“It would be easy to believe you if there was even a single time that you texted me, called me, video called, literally anything. But there wasn’t… You never did any of that. I gave up everything to be with you, to create this family with you, and you gave up nothing at all. You can think about us, you can talk about us all you want… But you made me feel like I was nothing, you made me feel like I was forgettable… And you’re really lucky that she’s only a year and a half and she’s too young to understand what’s going on… And I guess I’m really lucky that you were never around so she doesn’t have to miss you and I don’t have to answer any questions about where dad is.” Your words were sharp, they were meant to cause damage, and the trembling breath that you heard from his end was sign enough that you had hit him where it hurt. It was about damn time that he felt even some of the pain that he had caused you. 

“I know… I know that I’m an awful boyfriend. I know that I’m even worse as a father… I never claimed that I would be good at those things… But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t love you and her…” He whimpered, sniffling loudly. “I still do love you and her… You both are… You’re my world and… I know that I blew my chances. I messed up… And there’s nothing I can do… But I want to be able to see her. I can’t do that if you’re so far away… I need to be able to see her…” 

It took everything in you not to let out the loud groan that was building in your chest. It took everything for you to not cut him off and start going off on him again. Instead, you let out a loud sigh, your leg bouncing now with your agitation. “You had an entire year to see her. You only stopped by for an hour every month if we were lucky. Don’t use her as leverage, I’m not going to let you do that. I already have a job set up here, and my parents and I are going to start looking at places soon. The life that I thought that I’d have in Korea with you was clearly just a pipe dream, and it turned out to be everything but a dream for me. I’ve been living a life separated from you for over a year now… And you were fine with it since you thought you had me trapped over there with you. That’s over… It’s over now. If you want to see her, you can see her during one of your multiple tours or business trips. It’ll be just like before.” 

“So that’s it?” The sadness that had once laced his voice was gone now, his words were now almost eerily void of any emotion at all. “I guess you’ll just go to one of your little friends… One of the guys that you used to hang out with in school. Maybe he can play daddy to my daughter. I’m sure you’d like that though, just getting rid of me completely.” The assumptions had completely caught you off guard, not just because of how wrong they were, but because of how ridiculous they sounded coming from someone like him. 

“You’re kidding me… right?” You asked, in a state of absolute disbelief. “There’s no way that you’re being serious… You couldn’t be. I legitimately can’t fucking believe you right now. Of all things that you’re going to accuse me of… This is it?” He huffed in response, but he didn’t speak. Maybe he too realized just how ridiculous of an accusation it was, but now it was too late, he had already said it. “I was home all the fucking time. I finally get the fucking backbone it took to leave your ass, and you’re going to say that I’m the one doing some shady shit like that?! Do you know how many nights I laid awake in bed wondering what you were doing, who you were doing? You had multiple opportunities to cheat on me, to shack up with a multitude of famous people��� And I still never accused you of doing it. I constantly compared myself to the women you would stand next to at award shows or modeling… things and… And I never said shit! I felt like fucking trash! And you’re gonna sit here… you’re gonna say that I’m gonna do shit like that… When I have been nothing but loyal to you and this family that you claimed you wanted… Just waiting to be loved by you… Hell.. I would have been fine even being noticed by you… So you know what, Hyunjin. Fuck you. I’m done with this conversation. I’m done with you. Goodbye.” 

You didn’t give him the chance to talk, you quickly hung up your phone and tossed it to the end of the couch. Not just because of how pissed you were… No… You were devastated. You were a mess. It was nice to let it all out, but those emotions were raw, you were still hurt by what he had done, and he had just layered more pain on top. 

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[princessbrunette]

we’ve talked about stepbro!rafe but what about stepbro!jj… 🤭🤭

i read this request whilst tipsy and giggled sm because oh my GOD

so let’s say jj’s dad kind of gets his act together, gets help or whatever— still an asshole, but not so awful anymore. jj’s relationship with him is still totally up in the air, but atleast he’s not a danger to himself or others anymore. he meets your mother, sad and recently single — and they become inseparable.

they’re great — really, JJ wasn’t the most trusting of this relationship at first, worried it would go up in flames and he’d have to pick up the pieces when his dad eventually spirals — but it seems they’re pretty good for eachother. he’d even go as far to say your mother brought the best out of his old man.

but that wasn’t really what he was focused on.

they moved in together pretty fast, and along with your mother — came you. god, so pretty — totally his type, like if he’d seen you at one of the pogue parties on the beach, he’d be all over you. sweet, in that girl next door way, cute smile, innocent. he feels sick.

where it was discussed before in my stepbro!rafe post, rafe has very little worry regarding the morality of the situation, happy to take you under his wing and bend you to his will. jj however, is just… better than that. he knows it’s wrong, recognises how fucked up it would be — but it doesn’t stop him from feeling a type of way toward you.

he tried to sister-zone you, ruffling you on your head and pinching your cheek and treating you the way he would a regular little sister — but that only made him feel worse, because he couldn’t stop the burning attraction he felt toward you bubbling in his gut like something that had been left on the stove for too long, steam clogging his brain.

you just seemed so oblivious to his constant battle, and if you weren’t so naive he’d think you were doing it on purpose. you always stood too close when you spoke to him, and he’d have to press his lips together in restraint at the way you’d look up at him through your lashes, big doe eyes melting the ice around his heart. sometimes you’d go as far as to touch his chest absentmindedly, and he’d think about how it would look to a bystander, his little step sister all over him like this, practically touching him up. god, it was wrong— but it made him so hard.

you didn’t seem to worry about how wrong it would look when you’d steal his t-shirts to sleep in, or kiss him on the cheek before he leaves to run around with his friends for the day. your parents were none the wiser, just happy to see the two of you were getting along. you’d even begged him to let you hang out with the pogues, and he couldn’t say no to you, so of course he allowed you — only to immediately regret his choice when he had to spend the day with you bouncing around in your little bikini, tits pressed to his side when you’d hug him, outline of your chubby cunt visible through the white bikini bottoms when you’d come out the water. he was visibly disgusted when he went home and jerked off that night. came a bunch of times, though.

the straw that broke the camels back was when he’d heard this… pathetic whining sound from your room, and being the great guy he was thought maybe you were injured or sad— only to find you, who thought you’d been home alone, face down on the bed, naked from the waist down, grinding your glossy pussy against a pillow. he was wrecked.

he begged himself to walk away, leave the room and you’d never know. hell, go be a pervert and jerk off over it in your room, you’ve seen enough — but he couldn’t, not whilst the opportunity was just presenting itself to him like this. he even had the audacity to hope you secretly knew he was home, and was hoping he’d find you. jj being jj chooses to awkwardly clear his throat, scrunching his face as you yelp, scrambling on the sheets to cover your dignity. there was no point covering yourself now however, the image of your pretty pussy was burned into his retinas, haunting him every time he blinked like someone had tattooed the sight to the inside of his eyelids as some kind of sick prank.

“hey, uh—” he starts, cringing at himself already. you fire off into a barrage of apologies, face all hot and tears at the ready.

“jayj, i had no idea you were home! i’m — i’m so sorry you had to see that i’ve just been so — so frustrated lately and needed to —”

he nods, scratching his cheek and comes to sit by you on the bed.

“you uh— you don’t have to apologise. i was gonna ask if you… need any help.”

once these things start, it��s hard to wrap them up. easy to let them go too far. that’s how you end up with his face between your legs, and then clenching around his fingers, and then shockingly— cumming around his cock. he’d had plenty of experience fucking, he messed with lots of girls in the past— but the way his heart swelled each time you whined his name, the way tears would slip from your eyes when you came, this was different. more intimate, shit— the L word even sprung to mind a few times.

he came all over your tummy, and even cleaned you up afterwards because you were too sleepy. once everything died down that guilt returned, biting at the inside of his abdomen and clawing around his throat as he stares at your ceiling, your warm body snuggling into him, breathing softly into his neck. he thinks he might have a heart attack when you sleepily mumble “y’such a good big brother jayj, thanks for lookin’ after me.”

he must be sick, perverted. especially because he knew he would be doing it again.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

okay so I saw an ask that's similar to a situation I'm going through, and now I feel like I have to ask...AITA? NSFW content

(🐊🩷💀 for me to find)

this will be long, I'll try to shorten it

I've been married to my (25f) partner (27 mtf) for almost 6 years. I'm going to use he/him pronouns for him because he hasn't begun his transition and still wants these pronouns, but 3 years ago he came out to me as trans. we live in a not great state (US) for that, and so he hasn't begun his transition bc he personally doesn't want to start until he can also start medically, but, he was born a male and wants to transition to female

This was nbd to me at the time because I'm bisexual, so I was like "alright cool let's figure out how to get out of this state then and let you live your best life." we haven't been able to move financially, but we are hoping for next year.

When I believed he was still a male (if this is not the proper wording PLEASE correct me, I just don't know how else to say it??) we had this understanding that if I wanted to sleep with women, I could, bc I never have actually slept w a woman before. This never actually happened bc I'm terrible at flirting/weird w sex in general, so it never applied. However, around the time he came out to me, I began maturing (?) sexually myself. I got a SUPER high libido out of nowhere, started thinking about things I've never really wanted to do before (threesomes, etc) and thought about the possibility of sleeping w other men bc, idk, I just wanted to? I honestly considered (am still considering) if I'm sexually monogamous or not

I LOVE my partner, I do not want to leave him, but I literally cannot control my sex drive. When we have sex, it's great, but I also wanna sleep around a little. It has nothing to do w him and I don't wanna leave him, and honestly I don't even like the men I've considered as people, I just think they're hot. I'd never date them in a million years bc they're personalities are...not compatible to me. I honestly think they're assholes, it's just physical.

Anyways, when he came out, a few weeks later I proposed this question to him. I said "hey, you always said I could sleep with a woman bc it'd be a different experience than I could get with you, when you medically transition, can I sleep with men? I really like sex with a penis and you know straps kinda scare me a little. of course it'd just be sex." He kinda flipped, we got in a big argument and almost broke up over it bc he thinks I want to cheat on him. It doesnt help that around the same time, a male friend was showing big big interest in me, and when my husband asked who I'd even want to sleep with, I said this friend, and then he was convinced I had feelings for him and I lost some of his trust. Nothing ever happened w this friend, and nothing EVER would without my partner knowing and being okay with it, but he definitely lost trust in me.

His side of the story is, well honestly I don't understand it. I've been too afraid to bring it up again bc of how big the fight was, and everytime I broach the subject, he thinks I want to leave him/cheat on him. He says he's uncomfortable w me having sex w a man even after he transitions. He's tried explaining how it's different to him, but I don't understand. I think a lot of it is he just doesn't trust men and honestly probably hates them. I'm definitely attracted to women, but I like penetrative sex. Penetrative toys scare me, I've had panic attacks using them before. I just can't do it, I don't see them as an option. I love my partner and I dont want to leave him, but I also don't want to forego a sexual experience I enjoy.

TLDR; I've gotten a crazy high libido the last few years, my trans partner is uncomfortable with me sleeping with men once he transitions, even though I've been "allowed" to sleep with women this entire time that he still presents as male

Am I the asshole? Would I be if I brought it up again?

[hearts4werka]

Missing

Summary: it’s been six months since your sister went missing, everyone gave up on the investigation but you’re determined to find her no matter what but someone comes along the way… Genre: first person pov’s Stalker, missing person, thriller, horror, crime investigation, dark aesthetic, stalker romance, double pov Warnings: stalking, mentions of possible murder and torturous acts on children, mental health problems, dark fantasy dreams, exploration of the dark web, mention of an asshole boyfriend and possibly more that might trigger some readers. Read At Your Own Risk!

This is part 3 of the ‘Missing’ series!

7:00 AM

🤍 - Rosalla’s POV

The sun starts rising and the sun pools into my room through the windows as I wake up from my slumber with a weird feeling of soreness and bruised skin on the inner parts of my thighs.

Immediately ripping the duvet off the lower half of my body I slide down my pyjama pants to my mid-thighs, seeing several marks left behind on the inner skin of my thighs.

Inspecting it, confused on how the fuck did I get them? I don’t think I woke up in the middle of the night to go take a piss and even if did, I wouldn’t have bruises on my inner thighs.

Searching my mind for a presumable answer, I scout out one most reasonable answer that makes the most sense.

My stalker.

But what was he doing between my thighs?…

Realization hits me like a big bookshelf falling down, it’s obvious what he was doing there now. Immediately I pull my pyjama pants right back up and a weird feeling of my dark fantasies coming to life…

I’ve never confessed to something like this to anyone except for my now ex-boyfriend, one morning we were just cuddling in bed and I started to talk about a dream I had about a being chased down by a man in a mask and then being taken against my will.

That morning I had woken up all wet and horny so I asked my now ex-boyfriend if we wanted to try something like that, he looked at me and said I was fucked up in the head and proceeded to ignore me for two whole weeks which broke my heart.

Those two weeks I’ve spent at home eating ice-cream, watching romcoms and crying myself to sleep. Blaming myself for even having such dreams, such dark and twisted fantasies in the dark parts of my brain…

He was the one that broke up with me since I had felt seriously emotionally attachted to him, like he actually loved me but it all ended when he found out I have a stalker and he said he couldnt be seen with me, knowing theres some other man lurking and watching our every move somewhere in the dark shadows.

I finally get the strength to get out of bed and make my way over to the bathroom to take a refreshing morning shower. Thank god I have a day off today or I would not survive an hour at work.

Undressing myself I step into the shower, washing my spiraling thoughts taunting me in the dark depths of my mind down my body. Running a hand over my face I silence out all of the voices in my head all speaking at once and allow myself to finally relax and have a moment of peace.

| - 🍂 - |

7:47 AM

I’ve gotten out of the shower and thrown on some random clothes I found in my closet so I won’t sit in my pyjamas all day even though i was being close to doing that. A simple black tank top under an oversized off-shoulder gray hoodie with black sweatpants and mini uggs on my feets, my hair being put up lazily in a messy bun. ( outfit here )

I walk down the stairs and enter the kitchen, putting on some my hometown Spanish music on the speakers I start preparing some breakfast, my hips swaying from side to side each time I walk and when I'm standing they start to create circle, dancing to the music using my hips.

🖤 - Matthew’s POV

I watch her every move, every sway of her hips and move of her perfect body. She wont be able to escape me now ever since I've laid my eyes on her that one time, after I got home that day I did all of my research and found out as much as I could without her finding out.

Fuck, she sure knows how to move her hips.

Also I may or may not installed cameras in her house a few weeks after she became my newly found obsession but atleast I can keep an eye on her and protect my girl from any danger coming her way she may not know of. No one touches what’s mine.

Shes preparing breakfast, doing something normal in this moment and still manages to look even more gorgeous each time.

I sit back in my chair at my house, watching her from all different angles on numerous monitors on my wall from the cameras I have scarretered all over her house in those small and invisible spots she would never think to check.

A laptop is dismissently sitting on my lap with the dark web opened and the newly leaked video loading, I'm checking if the new victim isn't her missing sister by any chance and to hopefully track down the location of their new stay. I've been trying to catch those fuckers for some time now with my team and we've been close in the past but never close enough.

I'm moving my gaze from a goddess dancing in her kitchen to a gory, disgusting video of various of tortureous acts being preformend on children, why do I do this you may ask? I don't know it just sucked me into the dark layers of the world and once you go in, you can't get out.

| - 🍂 - |

10:25 AM

She’s already ate breakfast, had a dance party and singing competition with the voices in her head. Finally she’s now resting on the couch of her living room writing in a journal-like notebook with her cat Willow sleeping in her lap.

That journal holds some of her darkest secrets and I’ve somehow managed to get my hands on it one night, reading thought the different things she’s been through and establishing her ex-boyfriend is a total asshole and didn’t deserve her.

If I could I would teach him a goddamn lesson for treating her like the way he did and when I first found out I was close to actually bashing that motherfucker head with a brick but I kept myself under control and decided to leave it alone.

🤍 - Rosalla’s POV

I was just journaling in my notebook, it’s always felt therapeutic to me and helped me to find my peace or to drain my constantly spiralling thoughts onto paper so I don’t have to bottle them up inside of me.

My cat Willow is snuggly cuddled up on my lap, peacefully sleeping. I wish I could be so carefree with no worries on my head like her, maybe if I was a cat I wouldn’t constantly be burying myself in my thoughts?

As I try to relax, placing the journal down next to me the memories of me and my missing sister together flood back into my mind, clouding any other thought I might have had in there.

A single small tear swirls in my eye and falls down onto the delicate fur of my cat as I pet her back, smiling at the funny and wholesome memories we had together as tears start to prick my eyes.

I wish she was here with me.

authors note: I didn’t know how to end this, kinda ended on a sad note but I finally finished it and fed you my children, there’s more backstory here to go indeep with the characters pasts. Hope I didn’t make you wait long and hope you enjoyed this!

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[hyrules-warrior]

There needs to be more fics focusing on Joel’s PTSD and other issues after returning to Jackson.

I mean the guy has finally opened himself up after loosing his daughter. He was having panic attacks in episode 6, had full on dissociative episode with the events at the hospital. This guy has issues and finally being safe with Ellie in Jackson, those will start to come out as he relaxes for the first time in 20 years.

There are pancakes for breakfast at the canteen one morning. Joel gets in two bites before he goes white faced and barely makes it outside and between the buildings before he violently throws up everything he has ever eaten in his life and sits there hyperventilating and shaking until Ellie finds him and he comes back to himself. Sarah and him were supposed to have pancakes for his birthday breakfast that last day......before.......

Ellie has horrible nightmares, but so does Joel. Terrifying dreams of failure, of dying in that basement and leaving Ellie alone, of failing to make it to the surgeon in time to stop the surgery, of letting David......... He wakes up and has to stumble over to Ellie’s room to check on her just as much as she does for him after her dreams. Sometimes he is so shaken he has to wake her to make sure she is okay. But usually he just sees and hears her breathing and that is enough. He will settle in the window seat of her room with a gun and keep watch the rest of the night. Unknown or maybe just not acknowledged by both, Ellie herself sleeps the best the nights when he does this.

He has moments of high anxiety where he just has to lean against something for a few moments and breathe through it to settle his ringing ears and pounding heart. He isn’t even sure of the triggers most of the time, it seems to come out of nowhere. He also has sudden moments where he totally checks out but still functions. He is thrust back into survival mode and usually after has no idea why and barely remembers what happened during it. He closes right off, seems to stare at something far away instead of who is with him, his responses come out in his “asshole voice”, cold and distant. People just think he is grumpy, had a rough night or something but Ellie knows better. If she is there she works to keep people off of him and remove him from the situation in case that has triggered this shut down moment. When Ellie is with him her voice and touch grounds him, is the lifeline he tugs on to swim back to the present. It takes 10 times longer to drag himself back if she isn’t there.

His stab wound was major and the first aid done on it was understandably not the best. It never really heals right and remains sensitive. It pulls uncomfortably sometimes and aches horribly on cold winter days or when the pressure drops before a storm. And the phantom pains....... He wakes some nights from feverish dreams of the basement swearing he has just been stabbed all over again. The pain so fresh and sharp he thinks someone broke in and stabbed him there with a red hot fire poker. The first time it happens the wounded animal noises he lets out unbidden scare Ellie so bad she thinks he is dying and her extreme fear is what brings him back to the present. In the future he tries to hide it, dealing with his pain in silence (or attempted silence). Ellie still seems to know though and will silently come into his room and curl against his side allowing him to slowly settle. Or if the pain comes during the day she will push him into laying on the couch and get out the hot water bottle. Heat and seeing Ellie alive and well seems to soothe the pain, chase the winter away from his memory. 

Just like with Ellie’s trauma, these things begin to fade with time and attentive care from the one he needs most.

[annievrse]

vodka problems

eren x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: sasha and connie throw a party, and all the exciting things happen at parties! OR in which you and eren are exes, and it's the first party you both attend after the break-up. w/c: 5k+ warnings: maybe ooc eren (because idk how to write him yet, yikes), angst, alcohol, dissociating, c-word (3 whole times), swearing, anxiety about the future & love, maybe some errors, and a rushed ending because i had no more ideas. a/n: this isn’t how i thought this would go, but it’s how it turned out so, enjoy.

You were going to kill them. Nothing could sway you from doing so. Sasha Braus was about to be your first victim, and Connie Springer your second. The plan was already brewing in your mind: promise them an all-you-can-eat buffet, take the pair to a warehouse, blindfolded, get them into a position where the method of execution could be performed (you hadn’t thought that far ahead yet), and then strike. Quick and easy, and nobody would be surprised; they couldn’t even be convinced to go in the first place because you’d already said this to their faces. 

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Sasha exclaimed, rolling her eyes. You glared at her from your spot on her bed and then at Connie, who sat on the floor against the wall across the room. 

Connie laughed manically. “She’s gone insane!” 

You shook your head, clenching your fists to stop the slight shaking of your hands. “Guys…” 

At the sound of your exasperated tone, Sasha threw a lone throw pillow at Connie’s face, and the pair stopped teasing. 

“Listen,” Sasha started, sauntering toward you. “We can’t just… exclude him from our group get-togethers because you broke up.” 

It was the truth you had accepted a month ago, yet it was like a thousand needles in your stomach when Sasha said it aloud. You nodded, your gaze finding your hands.

“I’m sure he feels the same right now,” Sasha looked over her shoulder at Connie, who shrugged. The former rolled her eyes again and turned back to you. “Or at least, I hope he does. Asshole.” 

“Hey! It’s not like he’s been sleeping around! Eren’s a good guy,” Connie’s face screwed up in an angered expression at the thought that his closest friends were talking wrong about his other friend. “Just because he’s not hung up on this doesn’t make him an asshole!” He stood up, Sasha facing him. 

His last comment made your eyes weary. The one thousand needles tripled. 

“We know that! But-–” Sasha tilted her head in your direction. “Let girls talk shit, okay? It was a bad situation.” 

Connie cringed at the mention of the aftermath of your and Eren’s breakup. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am right,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/n is allowed to react the way she is because girls can feel emotions without being overdramatic.” 

“What about killing us? You said she was being dramatic.” 

“I mean, threatening to kill your friends is a little…” Sasha glanced at you. “But everything else! I know what you boys have been saying, and it’s not only hurtful to Y/n but to me! And Mikasa! Girls, in general! Just because Eren moved on so quickly doesn’t mean Y/n has to! She has every right to feel the way she does. I was like this for months when Nic and I broke up!”

“That was a different thing, and you got back together.”

“Besides the point!”

“Sasha?” You pipe up, tired of watching your friends argue over you. 

The two twist their heads toward you, forgetting you were there. Sasha’s eyes softened when she saw the dejected look on your face. 

“I’m just gonna go,” You wring your fingers. “I’ll see you tonight, though. Yeah?” 

Connie opened his mouth to say something, but Sasha elbowed him. “Yes, we will be seeing you tonight. Glad you’re coming.” 

You got up from the bed, and Sasha hugged you.

“Bye, Con.”

“Bye,” Connie replied solemnly. 

As you left the room, you heard a smack. “Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up, Springer?” 

You left their shared apartment—where you would return later. 

7:29 pm

Hearing the elevator ding, you turned towards the opening doors; the smell of sweat, alcohol, and weed hit you in the face as you exited. Despite Sasha and Connie’s apartment halfway down the hallway, the music and scents spilled out their front door. 

You held the bottle of Chardonnay you had brought loosely between your fingers, the effects of the other bottle of wine you had downed before coming hitting you straight on: liquid courage and all that. 

You opened the door without knocking and stepped into Sasha and Connie’s apartment. Music made the floor vibrate, which was ignored due to your inebriated and gloomy state. 

“Y/n!” Hands on your shoulders, and the familiar ecstatic energy of your best friend drew you out of your daze. “You’re here!” 

“I’m here!” You laughed bitterly, although the previous unwanted anxiety and feelings towards tonight were already dissipating. 

“Oh jeez, you’re already gone,” Sasha shook her head disapprovingly. “Tch, should’ve kept you here from this morning.” 

You disagreed. “No! See, I wouldn’t have brought us a bottle if I stayed here. This is for nobody else.” 

Sasha’s grin grew wider. “Thank you!”

You lifted the bottle towards her face, giggling. Sasha snatched the bottle out of your hand as soon as it was close enough and uncapped it, all in one motion.

Your jaw dropped at the sight of the now half-empty bottle in her hands. “Sash!” 

She held the bottle out of your reach and grabbed your hand, pulling you into the kitchen. “I think the boys are in Connie’s room, but don’t worry, I won’t take you to them.”

You knew who the boys entailed, and you were beyond grateful. 

“Annie, Ymir, and Historia are in the living room, playing some board game. I don’t know who does that at a party, but they’re having fun…” Then she looked behind you. “Oh! Marco,” Sasha pushed you backwards slightly. “Get Y/n a drink. I gotta pee.” 

You stumbled back into a tall figure, spinning around to meet your friend. “Marco!”

The freckled boy rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “Y/n! What would you like?”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Make me a mimosa? Mr. Bartender?” 

Marco laughed and reached up to retrieve a glass from the cupboard unit beside you. “Of course, Miss. Any special requests?” 

You eyed the Grey Goose on the counter, not thinking twice about your answer. “Hold the vodka, please.” 

Marco blanched as he poured sparkling wine into a cup. “Oh, yeah, okay. No problem.” 

You folded your lips between your teeth at the awkward air settling between you, and you didn’t think your response through before it slipped out. The music from the living room speakers, paired with the clink of a spoon on glass, was the only sound in the kitchen. 

It was no secret what had happened between you and Eren—the entire friend group had been there to witness it, which was the worst part. A party, a few bottles of vodka, and insecurities from both sides were at play that night. It was a recipe for disaster, and it just so happened that you and Eren were the casualties, along with friendships that were becoming more strained as the weeks passed. It didn’t help that you or Eren were often missing from group gatherings when the other was present, but somehow, Sasha had managed to get you in the same apartment as him for a night. It was either a master plan that could save the group or cause it to dismantle completely, and nobody wanted that. 

“Here you go,” Marco said, pushing the glass across the counter. 

Tears welled in your eyes at his sudden distance. “Thanks, Marc.” 

At the sound of your teary voice, his eyes shot toward you. “Hey, hey,” He reached for you, bringing you into his chest. “I’m sorry. No crying tonight, okay? Nobody hates you, I promise. You are as much a part of this group as he is. You are not allowed to leave.” 

“Who said I was leaving?” You mumbled into his chest, tears dampening his t-shirt. 

“People talk,” He replied, rubbing your back. “And a little Sasha told me you mentioned the group would be better without you.” 

You sniffled and laughed, eyes watery. “Can you blame me? Mikasa hasn’t spoken to me in a month, and Armin only says hello when he has to. I can’t keep putting myself through that. I don’t want to lose more friends over this.”

“If I were a nice person who cared about your well-being, I would tell you to leave us ASAP. But since I’m not, I need you to stay, okay? Who else would I make mimosas for at these ‘parties’?” 

You laughed and pulled away. “Nobody.” 

“Exactly!” Marco exclaimed. “And just you being here tonight tells me you don’t actually want to leave.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“No guessing about it,” Marco stepped back. “You are staying. Now,” He clapped. “Wanna join the losers in the living room for a game of Monopoly?” 

You nodded, sipping your drink. Marco would never know the effect his words had on you. No matter what happened with Eren, you had a place in this group. Sure, Sasha had repeatedly told you the same thing, but hearing it from someone else, who didn’t have to say anything, was special. “I would love to.”

9:02 pm

After Sasha had joined the game and Historia had won Monopoly (thanks to Ymir, who kept slipping her money under the table), the rest of the boys emerged from Connie’s room, bringing the stench of weed along with them. 

“Holy shit! Y/n?” Jean yelled in greeting. The grin on his face was wide, and it caused one to break across your cheeks too. 

“Hi, Jeanie,” You laughed, standing up from the couch. You rounded the table to hug him, ignoring the others. You and Jean had always been close, even before you started dating Eren. Not seeing him because you chose to distance yourself proved more hurtful than beneficial. 

“Haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?” His voice was soft against your ear, and you tightened your arms around him. 

“Been better, but I missed you.” 

“We’re here too, you know,” Connie piped up, rolling his eyes. 

“I saw you this morning, idiot,” You laughed, Jean joining you as you pulled apart. 

You stepped to the right of Jean and scanned the faces of everyone in Connie’s room; Armin, Mikasa, Bertie, Reiner, Eren (sparingly), Connie himself, and—who is she? 

A petite brunette girl stood at Eren’s side. Her features were sharp and tinted pink when you met her eyes. 

You lifted your hand in a lazy wave and turned back to the couch. Your chest tightened at seeing someone you didn’t know hanging out with your group—were they replacing you already? 

Sasha noticed your fidgety hands and grabbed them as you sat next to her. You didn’t look anywhere but at the table. 

The room grew tense and awkward. 

And when nobody spoke, Eren threw his arms up. “I’m getting a beer. Anyone want one?” 

The sound of his voice was cutting. It shredded the weeks of progress you had tried to heal and buried deep into your subconsciousness. You missed his voice. 

Your eyes lifted, and when your gaze landed on him, Eren inhaled sharply. “I’ll have one.” 

Everybody held their breath as you and Eren exchanged words. They never thought they’d see the day, even if it was to be mean to each other. 

Eren’s lip curled. “You sure you don’t want vodka? I heard it’s good for ruining relationships, which you seem great at!”

“Okay! That’s where we end that. Real mature,” Sasha stood abruptly, her hands ripping from yours. “Eren, a word?” 

“Would love one, Sasha,” Eren’’s tone was clipped as he stalked back down the hallway. 

The brunette girl shifted her weight. You watched her stand awkwardly without Eren there. 

You couldn’t move with everyone’s eyes on you. With your muscles frozen, you’re eyes were unblinking as the muffled voices from down the hallway got louder. 

“Y/n, right?” A new voice spoke. You lifted your head and saw the new girl walking hesitantly toward you. “I’m Cate.” 

Your eyes flickered to Jean, who was holding his breath. A small smile replaced your blank stare as you shook the girl’s hand. You couldn’t hate this girl. No matter what happened between you and Eren, she would never be the target of your anger. 

“Nice to meet you.”

Around you, the room started moving normally again. Laughs were heard, and conversation picked back up. After her introduction, Cate scuttered to the kitchen, and you slumped back into the couch. 

“Nice to meet you,” Jean teased, flopping down next to you, lifting his leg to put it over your lap. 

“Shut the fuck up. What was I meant to say?” You snapped, smacking his knee. 

“What you said was fine. Jean’s just being a dick,” Marco said from the other side of you. 

“If anything, Eren’s being a dick,” Jean mumbled. 

You said nothing. And when Jean was going to start speaking again, a pair of legs stopped in front of you. 

The blonde boy looked nervous as he looked down at you. “Hey, Y/n.” 

“Hi, Armin. How are you?” 

He sighed and smiled. “I’m well. How are you?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “You know…” 

Armin nodded and sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your knees hit his as you pouted at him. 

“Armin… why haven’t I seen you in biochem?” You asked, giggling as you said your following sentence. “You didn’t drop out, did you?” 

Armin gaped at your jab and shook his head. “I’m offended at the thought! I had to change classes. It clashed with my other biology class.”

You smiled understandingly. “I guess I was just hurt you didn’t tell me. I know it can be awkward.” 

Armin sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” 

“I always want to hear from you,” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re the only one who listens to my ramblings about everything.” 

Jean and Marco went to object, saying anything about how they’d had heard it all for the past few weeks when Armin laughed. “That’s true. Got anything for me right now?” 

“And that’s when we leave,” Jean stood, motioning for Marco to do the same. “Bye, guys.” 

10:39 pm

To say a majority of the group was intoxicated would be an understatement. 

Ymir and Historia left an hour ago because Historia was on the verge of passing out. Sasha and Eren had gone to different ends of the apartment a while ago after Sasha yelled at him for half an hour. He hadn’t looked in your direction since he came out of the room. 

Eren now sat, with Cate, on the couch, a beer held loosely between his fingers, taking sparse swigs. His eyes were heavy, but his cold facade never wavered. Surrounding him were Bertie, Reiner, Mikasa, Armin, and Annie. They were conversing about the NBA or NFL; you couldn’t remember the topic when you left. 

Conversely, you were perched on the counter in the kitchen as Marco, Jean, Connie, and Sasha competed in a ‘who could make the better drink’, with you as the judge. You were beyond tipsy, everything falling from your lips unfiltered, which was good and bad when tasting their beverages. 

Your face soured as you swallowed. “Fuck, Jean! That’s disgusting!” 

The tall boy cackled, holding his stomach as you tipped the rest of the drink down the sink. “I spent my time on that! You're so ungrateful!” 

The rest of the group laughed at your misfortune, pushing various shaped cups and glasses in your direction for you to try. 

The laughter soon died when Cate walked into the kitchen. She wore a smile on her face and waved when she noticed everyone’s eyes on her. “Hey, guys. What’re you doing?” 

“Best drink competition, wanna play? Y/n’s judging,” Connie asked, his eyes hanging and words slurred. 

“Uh, yes! I’ll make mine now. No peeking!” She laughed, picking up a random cup off the opposite counter. You and the others covered your eyes playfully. 

“Okay, done,” Cate muttered, handing you a black cup. “Tell me what you think.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on you, but when she handed you the cup, the typical mischief you’d encountered in everyone else’s eyes when they gave you their drinks was far less dark and cynical than hers. Cate wore a smirk as Jean did, but it seemed more calculated than his silly one. But your drunk brain was too dismissive to take it to heart. So, you took a sip of her drink. 

And when the sharp tang of vodka hit your tongue, you almost vomited. Your lips parted, and your eyes watered at the taste and what it had caused you weeks ago. 

“Bitch,” You whispered, yet nobody heard. 

The kitchen was silent as Cate stood before you, arms folded over her chest. She leaned closer to you, her mouth next to your ear. “It’s a shame. You’re so pretty but such a cunt. I almost feel bad for the guy. He had to tolerate you for so long. Thanks for letting me have him.” 

And as Cate fell back onto her heels, she sighed, like uttering those words filled her with relief. 

Sasha instantly recognised the look on your face and gasped. Even in her drunken haze, she had perfect aim. Her palm came in contact with Cate’s cheek before the boys could even react, and you took no notice of what had just happened, gaze unfocused and on the floor. 

“Woah!” Connie yelled, placing his glass in the sink to hold back his best friend. 

“Sasha, what?” Jean exclaimed, hooking his arms around Cate’s from behind. 

And Marco was silent. He stood beside you, taking the cup from your hands and sniffing the liquid. He sighed when he recognised the smell. “Fuck.” He whispered. 

“You’re never allowed back into my house! Get out!” Sasha screamed. “Or you’ll finally get to see the crazy bitch you’ve been calling me for a month!” 

The commotion had finally caused a reaction from the group in the living room, who were now flooding the space. The music was quiet, which made the scene more tense.

“What the fuck is going on?” Reiner yelled over the arguing, taking notice of Cate in Jean��s arms and Sasha in Connie's. 

“Let go of me, Connie!” Sasha cried. She now had tears streaming down her face at the same rate as you. 

You were dissociating; Sasha could see it clear as day. Your hands shook, and your eyes were unfocused as you stared at the floor, your body swaying ever so slightly. 

“Please, let me go.” 

Having heard the plea and sadness in Sasha’s voice, Connie released her. The girl stumbled out of his hold and rushed toward you, helping you off the counter with Marco’s assistance. She ushered you back into the living room and down the hallway to her room. 

“Let go of Cate, bro,” Eren snapped, stepping forward to reach her. 

Jean threw his friend a glare. “Okay, bro,” Jean laughed bitterly and let go of the brunette. 

Nobody in the kitchen said a word except for Marco, who had had enough awkward silences tonight. 

“Before you go, Eren, because you tend to do that a lot now, I’d take a good, hard look at who you’re keeping company,” Marco shifted his gaze to Cate, who stood rubbing her arms. 

“Me? You think this is my fault? That girl is insane! No wonder you broke up, Ren,” She looked up at Eren. 

The other boys, Mikasa and Annie, watched anxiously for Eren’s next move. 

11:00 pm

Meanwhile, you were in Sasha’s room sipping on a water bottle she handed you. Despite the short time, you were already starting to sober up, both from the shock of what just happened and the granola bar Sasha had forced down your throat after she locked her bedroom door. 

“God, I hate her. I tried to keep quiet tonight for Eren’s sake, but I can’t, not after that,” Sasha mumbled. “What did she say to you?” 

“Uh,” You bit your bottom lip. “She called me a cunt and thanked me for giving her Eren or something. I don’t know. I zoned out.” 

Sasha let out a noise of frustration. “If I could punch Eren, I would. He has some serious nerve bringing her here when he knew you were coming.” 

“It’s no big deal. I mean, it’s true,” You said tonelessly. “I did some fucked up stuff to him that night.” 

“Firstly, shut up! You’re not a cunt, how are you? You got the courage to come here in the first place, and I’m so proud of you. Just because one girl, who must hate women, said that about you doesn’t mean you are one. It's a reflection of her, not you. And secondly, he said shit too! You’re both in the wrong. Stop taking all the blame.” 

“Thanks, Sash.” 

“You know what I mean. It’s bullshit. I hate that people took sides; I really do. It makes me feel like our group wasn’t as close as I thought.”

You placed your hand in hers. “I’m sorry for fucking up our friend group.”

Sasha sighed. “You didn’t fuck it up,” her eyes were glassy when she looked at you. “I think it was already fucked up.” 

Her statement made you laugh sadly. 

But your laugh was cut short by the sound of the front door slamming. You shared a look with Sasha as you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. 

“That’s probably Jean. Bet Eren left,” Sasha mumbled, squeezing your hand before straightening up from her bed. 

And as she opened the door, nothing could prepare you for who was standing there with his fist raised to knock. 

“Oh my god,” Sasha groaned. “Have you finally decided to talk to her? All it took was some girl to insult her for you to want to speak with her?” 

Every muscle in your body was unmoving. It was like someone had poured ice water over your head. If you hadn’t sobered up from the snack and water before, you definitely had now. 

“Sasha, please,” Eren whispered. Even though he towered over Sasha, Eren looked small. He was curled in on himself, shoulders hunched. 

“It’s okay, Sash,” You stated, noticing how Eren’s demeanour changed at your words. He looked almost the same as when you were together, ganging up on your friends to tease them lovingly. 

“Fine,” Sasha said firmly. Then she brought her finger to Eren’s chest. “But if you make her cry, I will strangle you.” 

Eren just nodded, knowing it wasn’t the time to joke around. Sasha side-stepped to let him inside her room before turning around and holding the door handle.

“I will shut this door for privacy only. I don’t want to walk in here later to see you’ve killed each other,” Despite her words, Sasha smiled as she said so. 

“Bye, Sash,” You wave, hyperaware of Eren standing a few feet away. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

And when the door clicked shut, Eren shifted in his spot. You waited for him to speak, but it never came. You guessed his conversation with Sasha earlier in the night had put him in his place.

“Where do you wanna start?” You asked, choosing to help him sort out his thoughts instead of attacking him immediately. 

Eren, seemingly grateful, fidgeted with his hands. “I want to talk about the party first.” 

You nodded, looking away from him. 

“I wanna start by saying we both had too much to drink that night. I should’ve never tried to find you afterwards; I was just so confused and hurt,” Only then did Eren glance in your direction. You met his eyes and shook your head. “I want to hear your side, but could I say my piece first?” 

You nodded, allowing him to continue. 

“Thanks,” He sighed with a crooked smile and shook his head softly to rid it. “Anyway, I, uh—that night went downhill so fast. I know they say that drunk words are sober thoughts, I know. But at that moment, I was so angry. I was angry at myself, you, and everyone else at that damn party because I—I couldn't take the questions, and the expectations, and the responsibilities. And you’re right. I am immature because I couldn’t understand why you made that choice, and I still don’t understand why you did. It just hurt me so deeply that I didn’t know how to accept it. I still don’t!"

"I stumbled around all night with that damn bottle of vodka because I knew you liked it, and when I saw you with the same bottle dancing with Sasha, I snapped. I couldn't believe you were having fun after hurting me so badly," Eren paced the floor. “But I can’t move on from you, sweetheart. I really can’t. And tonight,” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know why I brought her here. I guess I just wanted you to hurt as much as I do. But, if I knew she would act like that toward you, I never would've spoken to her in the first place. I’m sorry for that.” 

Tears brimmed your lash line as you nodded. Eren remained near the door. 

“I—uh, I’m sorry for everything I said too. Yes, you can be immature, but you’re not arrogant or aloof when speaking about serious stuff; you're doing it right now. And I’m sorry for doubting your love for me—in hindsight, it was a shitty thing to say considering…” You trailed off.

Eren stayed silent.

“I literally hung you out to dry in front of everyone, and you're still here trying to make amends with me!" You exclaimed, angry with yourself. "That's like one of the least immature things ever."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "That night scared the shit out of me, with all the talk about the future and what we’re going to do when we graduate literally next semester. Eren,” You look up at him. “I don’t have any plan. I’m going to finish my degree, and then what? I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to see my friends once a year because we’re all on different sides of the country, of the world! I want to stay here with the lunatics out there and you.”

The sudden confession made you pause. Eren inhaled sharply, meeting your eyes. You swallowed and continued. “I always wanted to stay with you.” 

Neither of you spoke. As you stared at each other, you noticed small things about Eren’s appearance that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him: the flyaways near his face were longer, his usual clean-shaven jaw was lightly stubbled, his black t-shirt was tighter around his arms, and the green in his eyes was darker. 

Eren broke the silence first. “I just want to know why you said no,” He begged. 

You were waiting for this question. Sure, Eren had asked it when you’d first answered his initial question, but now, he deserved an explanation. He hadn’t been angry at your answer, more heartbroken than anything. 

“You say you want to stay with me forever, yet you say no at the first real chance to do that.” 

You blinked, and tears fell down your cheeks. “I know,” Your voice was strained as you wiped at your eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

The bed dipped beside you, and Eren’s thigh pressed against yours. And as you hiccuped, Eren wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into him. 

“It’s my biggest regret, saying no to you. I couldn't believe you’d actually want me like that.” 

“Of course, I want you like that. I want you in every way if you’d let me. But until you say the word, I’m not acting on anything you don’t want me to.”

You lifted your head from his chest and turned toward him. His arm fell from your shoulders, and you took his hands in yours. 

“If you asked me again, just know I’d say yes,” You cried. “That night… that night was among the very few when I didn’t believe you were real. There is absolutely no way that someone could love me the way you do. Nobody. I believed I would never be loved like that from a very young age. And it was confusing when you came into my life and told me differently after I'd spent years drilling into my mind that I’d be alone forever.” 

“I was terrified that saying yes meant I was falling for some cruel joke,” Eren’s hand hovered over your cheek before you tilted your face to rest in his hand. “But now that you’re still here, still wanting to marry me after I said all those horrible things to you, I know what you feel is true. You’re true.” 

Eren laughed, eyes watery as he nodded. “That doesn't make sense. But, yeah, I’m real, and my love for you will always be real.” 

"It only took a failed proposal for me to realise what I lost," You cringed, peering over at Eren.

He gave you a pained expression, hand over his chest. "Ouch, at my expense?"

You nodded, dragging your hand over your cheeks. "Unfortunately."

And just like that, the pair of you fell back in sync. Eren wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you close. "I know we still have a lot to talk about, but can we just sit here for now?"

"Yeah," You whispered, circling your arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier in the living room," Eren muttered.

"It's okay. I was ready to say something mean back before Sasha interrupted. So I'll apologise for the intent."

Eren snorted. "I don't think anything you say to me could stop me from loving you."

"Even when I yell at you for leaving dishes in the sink?"

"Especially then," And then you felt him lick your cheek.

"And he's back," You mumble, wiping the side of your face. "I was starting to miss the weird side of you."

"Not my fault."

"Too soon."

You pulled yourself out of his embrace and composed yourself, wiping under your eyes and shaking your arms.

“Let’s start over,” Sticking your hand out, you sighed. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” 

Eren shook his head and clutched your outstretched hand. “Hi, Y/n. I’m Eren. I hope you don’t mind, but I will propose about a month into our inevitable relationship.” 

You smiled at him, tears slipping past your lashes again. “And this time, I’ll say yes, Mr Jaeger.” 

“Hey, I never told you my last name.” 

[amymbona]

Let's be honest, even though I love Art, people victimize him a lot and put Patrick as the devil in the movie.

Most forget that Art was the one who wanted Patrick and Tashi to fight and break up, he was the one who told Tashi that Patrick surely slept with other girls on tour. Art was the one who decided to break a friendship of years only for a girl! I mean, he yell at Patrick without knowing what happened between him and Tashi, and then he never try to contact Patrick after the incident

People say that Patrick was a bad person for sleeping with Tashi knowing that she was Art's fiancée and then Art's spouse, but Patrick and Art were no longer friends, Art treated him badly after so many years of friendship and decided never to speak to him again, so Patrick had no reason to care about Art in that moment.

Exactly my thoughts! Like I felt bad for Art in the infamous "How are you gonna look at me if I still can't beat Patrick" scene and if they didn't give us such a yummy shot of his ass, I would have felt bad for a longer time, perhaps (just kidding). No, it was kinda cruel of Tashi to go fuck with Patrick but then again, that only showed how flawed their marriage was, and while I absolutely don't wanna call Tashi any bad things, she was bound to do that sooner or later.

Hear me out, but I believe that Tashi would subconsciously seek the presence of players who are better than Art. Because better player means better tennis, and Tashi has completely lost the better tennis. She was on the top, or could have been, and then it was all taken away from her. So what she did was mold Art into her perfect tennis boy (and he loved her enough to allow her to do so), because she wanted to get as close to the peak tennis. But the moment Patrick showed up - a person who's better than Art - Tashi couldn't resist herself.

She truly loved Art, though, I believe. That's why she asked Patrick to lose, that's why she slept with him to save her marriage. Because she was certain that if Patrick won the match, she would leave Art for him (for better tennis). And she didn't want to.

I believed Art was intentionally portrayed as the victim, for us fans to get really into it and think deeper about the morals of the movie. That it's not all simply about tennis, even though it technically is.

It happens often (speaking from experience), that two people group up against somebody. As a person who's been in a tight tied trio and sort of the middle connector and then had the two people do a whole one-eighty against me, I know exactly what Patrick was going through. We almost kinda see the story through Tashi and Art's eyes - I'm talking about the knee injury scene - and Patrick is simply portrayed as the bad guy. That's just what happens when two people of same belief stand up against the third one. They don't care for any explanation or hints of rationality, don't even wanna acknowledge that they could be in the wrong. Perhaps there are some traits of narcissism or higher self appreciation but both Tashi and Art - at that time - think that they are too flawless to be responsible for the mess.

I'm kinda sad we didn't really get to see much about Patrick after that and until the final match, aside from Atlanta and him being completely broke. It would have been so interesting to see him grieve his relationship with Art and Tashi and see him change into the asshole that he's seen as during the final match.

[ravennaortiz]

Love or Leather

Summary: Juice does some soul searching after the events of Two Worlds. How much does that kutte really weigh? Featuring OC Guadalupe Mendoza

Juice didn’t even bother turning on the lights as he entered his house. His mind heavy with all that had went down. The ride from Santo Padre to Charming was long but not long enough to clear his head or ease the heartache. Tossing his keys to the counter with his gloves as he kicked his boots off, not bothering to put them up. Shrugging out of his kutte and tossing it to the couch haphazardly. He could care less if it was disrespectful to the leather right now. Seeing as how it was the reason he was in his house and not in the bed of the woman he loved more than life itself right now.  His phone dinging broke the silence of the night as he made his way to his bedroom. Seeing his text notification he opened it thinking it was one of the guys giving him an update.

Letty Cruz: Asshole.

Juice sighed as he shut his phone and tossed it across the room. Letty wasn’t wrong but he didn’t have the energy in him to explain himself to her. Not after he had to break Lupes heart like he did. What was supposed to be a fun week together had turned into him being surprised by her brother and being told to end their relationship. He hadn’t even been allowed a word to defend or justify their relationship. Collapsing onto his bed he felt the bubble of anger building at the injustice. He couldn’t even be mad at Manny, he was just doing what brothers do. Though he couldn’t shake how he didn’t even get a chance. He should have been allowed to prove himself.  

 I should have tried harder thought Juice as his hands balled up into fists as images of the Lupes face going from all smiles to finding him at her kitchen table to tears as he told her they were done, ran through his mind. Her sobs echoing in his ears as she begged and pleaded for him to stay. Asking what she could do better to keep him, what she did wrong. It broke him for her to think this was her fault that she was anything but the perfect woman for him. When he had explained that he wasn’t right for her she had gotten angry, telling him he was wrong.

Manny was right he should have known better. How could he have been so blinded to the risk for Lupe with the two of them being together? Not just with the alliance being so new but also the fact of her being the sister of a prominent Presidente for the Mayans. Manny was making a name for himself with changes he was making and the cleaning of house that was happening in the Mayan charters. While Juice still stood by what he had told Manny hours ago in Lupes kitchen. That he would never let anyone hurt her or anything happen to her, he recognized that was hard when his title as a SON kept him in Charming. If something happened it would take hours to get to her. They were both okay with long distance, they had a trust in each other that allowed for it. Juice also felt comfortable in the fact Lupe had the Santo Padre Charter backing her up, hell Angel was her next door neighbor.

 Juice sat up with a sigh as he thought about how close Lupe, Angel and Coco were. His eyes searching in the dark for his phone. He needed to let Chibs know what had happened today. The breakup could have effects on the club given the loyalty to Lupe. Once he found his phone and had scrolled to Chibs name he struggled on whether to call or text. He truly couldn’t handle an actual talk right now, he was on the edge of sobs and seeing as how it was three in the morning he felt it was safe to send a simple text.

Juice: I’m home. Broke up with Lupe. Explain later.

Chibs: Sorry to hear that Juicy.

“Me too” stated Juice his voice shaky as the tears he had held back sprung forth. Laying on his floor he cried himself to sleep.

Later that day SONS Clubhouse

Juice was tired and dreaded all the questions that would come from his brothers. The leather kutte felt like it weighed a ton and was suffocating him.  Keeping his sunglasses on and head down he quickly parked and made his way inside. Chibs had told him to come to Table when he arrived so they could talk in private. Slumping down in his chair he laid his head on the table. Relishing in the coolness of the wood on his heated skin.

“Whenever you are ready Laddie” stated Chibs soothingly as he peered at Juice over his glasses. He could tell this was weighing on him and that this was more than a normal breakup. Over the hour Juice explained between heart broken, body contorting sobs what had happened once he got to Lupes house yesterday. Meeting Manny, him telling him to break up and stay away from his sister. Sitting at her table as he waited for her to get home. Telling her they were over, her begging and crying. Him practically running out of the house so he wouldn’t go back on what he had been told to do. How angry he was at Manny, himself and the clubs. How he felt suffocated by the leather, beaten down by it.

Chibs nodded and listened until Juice was done. “I have one question Juice. Would you rather have that leather or Lupe?”

“Lupe” replied Juice without hesitation his eyes finally meeting Chibs. He couldn’t deny the immense relieve that this confession brought as he shrugged out of the kutte and laid it on the table. Chibs nodded as he reached his hand out and grabbed the kutte pulling it to him. “I’m going to make some calls. Come back tomorrow around three”.

Next Day

Manny sat, fingers tapping the wooden table of the sons. The leather kutte on the table between him and their President Chibs. He couldn’t deny he had went about this all wrong like his wife Liliana had put it when she had called him after finding out from Lupe what he had done. “So he wants to switch clubs for my sister?” inquired Manny.

“No. He wants to simply leave the SONs for her. Bishop suggested letting him transfer” replied Chibs as Bishop nodded.

“Kid has heart and loyalty. He already has helped us out some when he’s been visiting Lupe. Gets along with the guys, doesn’t cause problems” stated Bishop.

“Let me talk to him in private” stated Manny as he glanced through the window where Juice sat with a couple of the other sons.

Lupes House two days later

"Just wanna say sorry again for meddling." stated Manny as he stood in his sisters kitchen awkwardly as he shoved Juice towards her. "Brought you this, be nice to him he was just doing what I asked" he added as Lupe nodded a small smile developing on her face. Taking a deep breath he let himself out of the house.

"Hey" stated Juice softly as he toed the floor with his boot.

"I love you Juan Carlos" stated Lupe quietly as she moved to him. Taking his hands in her as she bit her lip. She had never told anyone that before and was scared to be so vulnerable.

"I love you too. Have since the moment I saw you." replied Juice before pulling her in for a kiss.

[mrsaltieri-real]

I Can Be Sweet (Mickey Altieri x GN!Reader)

Word count: 1.5k

Warning/s: GN!Reader (no specified pronouns, Mickey uses the pet names baby and babe) fluffy fluff fluff, language, nudity, Mickey being soft, (yes it’s a warning) the L bomb gets dropped, romantic shit, Mickey being a terrible cook, Mickey still somehow being a little shit, etc

I’ve had a really, REALLY shit week so I wrote this as like a little soothing thing for myself and anyone else whose having a crappy week. I just needed to comfort myself by writing something like this. I’ve got good friends that have helped me through my stuff this week (you know who you are) and I wanted to say a big thank you.

Anyway, here’s a fluffy Mickey fic because sometimes we need our murder boys sweet.

You knew him better than almost anyone.

Even though you didn’t know about his… extra curricular activities, you knew Mickey.

He was cocky, sarcastic and most of the time a complete ass because that’s simply all he’d ever been. He never allowed anyone to get too close to him in fear they’d disappear like everybody else. He was a performer, an artist. A master of deception and only letting people see what he wanted them too. But once you broke through that hard shell and got to the soft centre, there was a whole different side to him.

Mickey was… sweet, he was romantic and passionate yet remained surrounded by his defensive coating until he finally trusted you enough for you to see it.

After a particularly exhausting day of serving booze to the drunk college assholes in the on campus bar you worked in to make extra money so you could live in an apartment by yourself to avoid having to share a dorm room, you walked toward your door, head pounding and feet aching. You wanted nothing more than to shower and go to sleep in preparation for what would undoubtedly be another shitty day tomorrow.

You rummaged in your bag for your keys but paused for a second outside your door, furrowing your eyebrows when you heard soft music and dishes clanking together. Had someone broken in? Fuck, that was just what you needed.

You pressed your ear to the door to try and hear a little better when you heard a familiar soft humming rendition of the current song playing on your speakers and all the paranoia faded away in an instant, calmly unlocking the door and walking inside.

Mickey was flitting around your tiny kitchen like a hurricane, trying to do far too many things at once.

“Oh, fuck me.” He cussed as he lifted the lid to one of the pots on the stove, grimacing at whatever horrible sight he’d concocted.

“Mick?”

He jumped a little, head snapping in your direction.

“Hey! Hi, you're back!” His cheeks were slightly flushed and his shirt had splatters of food spotted over the light blue material and you raised your eyebrows a little.

“Yeah, there was another fight in the bar. Shit got broken so we decided to close… what are you doing here?” An amused expression crossed your face as Mickey continued to move around the kitchen as you spoke, clearly growing more and more frustrated.

“You uh.. you said the other day you were having a rough week so I thought I’d TRY to do something nice for you. But I… yeah. I can’t cook.” He admitted sheepishly.

As he spoke you dropped your bag on the floor by the door and walked over to him, touched by his effort. “Yeah, I can see that.” You teased, gesturing toward the pots and pans completely wrecked with the burnt food coating the bottom of them. “But thank you, that’s really sweet.”

He shrugged, waving you off with his hand but you caught it, pulling him close to you. “I mean it.” You said softly and he smiled down at you, looking a little bashful.

“Sorry ‘bout your cooking shit.” He said, eyes narrowing at the ruined pans. You laughed a little, shaking your head at him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Probably was due to get some new ones anyway.” You let go of his hand and walked around him to turn off the stove and grabbed a garbage bag, dumping the pots and pans inside. “I’ll throw them out and buy some new ones tomorrow.”

“Oh, I did do one thing right!”

You tied the bag, placing it down before looking at him.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He grinned at you, gesturing for you to follow him as he left the kitchen and walked down the hall to your bathroom. You followed him sceptically, unsure of whatever the hell he had awaiting you but was taken aback when you entered your bathroom after him to see he’d run you a beautiful bubble bath, candles scattered around the whole room with your favourite song playing softly on your other pair of speakers. Whatever he’d used in the bath smelt of honeysuckle and lavender, the smells oddly complimenting each other.

Mickey dipped his hand in the bath before smiling proudly to himself and turning to face you. “I might be a shit cook but I can run a mean fucking bath.”

You didn’t respond, staring at the bubbles until they blurred into fuzzy white spots, a tear falling down your cheek. “Hey, hey, hey! Why are you crying?” Mickey’s voice sounded alarmed as he moved in front of you, his hand automatically reaching forward to wipe the fallen tears.

“I… no one’s ever done anything like this for me.” You felt slightly pathetic for crying, trying to move your head so Mickey wouldn’t see your face but he held your cheeks in his hand, beautiful face soft and affectionate.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was gonna make you cry, baby.” He still looked a little anxious, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“No! No, these are happy tears.” You assured him, sniffling a little. His hands dropped from your face and slid down your arms, seeming at least a little comforted as he said, “still.”

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up on your toes so you could bury your face into the crook of his neck. He let out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around you, hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades and burrowing his face into your messy hair.

“You stink.” He mumbled into it making you laugh and pull back, playfully smacking his arm.

“Yeah genius, I work in a college bar of course I stink.”

“Want me to help you?” He gestured toward the bath before his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, a broad smile on his beautiful face as you nodded eagerly.

“Lift your arms.”

You obeyed, raising your arms above your head so he could pull your shirt off of you, placing it carefully on top of your laundry basket. His hands moved down to your jeans, popping the button open and pulling down the zipper slowly, smirking a little at your soft shiver when his warm fingers made contact with your skin. “Easy babe, we’re just taking a bath.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly nudging his hands away so you could remove your jeans along with your underwear, turning to toss them on top of your shirt.

When you turned back round Mickey was already naked and your eyes automatically dropped to his package before quickly diverting away, making him laugh again.

“Giggly prick.” You muttered as he climbed into the bubbly water, opening his arms out for you to climb in in front of him.

You took his hand, sighing happily at the perfectly warm water before you sat down between his legs, head resting back against his shoulder. He leaned forward, picking up your washcloth and dipping it into the water and wringing it out a little before he smoothed it over your chest, his head resting softly against yours.

“You’re being very sweet tonight.” You said softly, hearing his breathy laugh in your ear.

“You sound surprised. I can be sweet.” He defended himself in mock offence.

“I know, but never like this.”

It was quiet for a moment as Mickey continued to gently wash your aching body. The warm water in combination with his hot body was relaxing your tight muscles in a way that almost had you floppy in his arms.

“Am I really that bad?“ he murmured into your ear.

You frowned a little, lifting and turning your head so you were looking at him. “I didn’t mean it like-“

“No, no it’s okay. I know how I can be sometimes, and I guess in addition to me doing this because you’ve had a bad week it’s also to show you how much I care about you.”

You leaned up a little so you could press your lips to his cheek softly before sinking back into his arms, head leaning back again against his shoulder and your eyes fluttered closed.

“There’s also another reason.”

“Mm?“ you hummed absentmindedly. You felt his heart rate pick up and his breathing hitch ever so slightly as he swallowed, as if he was terrified of whatever he was about to say.

“I uh…” he sighed, face burrowing even further into your shoulder. “I love you.” He mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by your skin.

You froze for a moment, trying to comprehend what he had just said. “Y- you what?” You twisted around so his head moved off your shoulder and he was forced to look at you.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face and you struggled to turn all the way round to face him in the bath, and he laughed as he gripped your elbow to help you. “Steady, steady.” He said softly.

“You love me?” You whisper once you are facing him. You were straddling him, knees either side of his thighs and your hands resting on his chest while his rested on your hips under the water as you looked into his eyes, trying and failing to stop the tears from welling up again.

He bobbed his head once and even in the dim light of the flickering candles you saw his cheeks flush slightly.

“You don’t have to say it back!” He suddenly said quickly. “Please don’t feel like you have to say it b-“

“I love you too.”

A relieved sigh came out of Mickey’s mouth and his lips turned up into a devastatingly beautiful smile. “Thank fucking god.” He whispered, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.

[angstysebfan]

My Roommate's Boyfriend - Chapter 7

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader AU: Modern

Chapter Summary: Things continue to get messy. Chapter Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Short chapter

Series Masterlist

--

We need to talk.

Bucky sighs looking at his phone, suddenly nervous. Maybe Nat was mad about him sleeping with you. Even they broke up, and she told him to be nice to you, but he knows he went a little too far. What if you spilt all the nasty things he said to you that day. Bucky took another long swig from the whiskey bottle, before responding to Nat.

I am outside your building. I know she doesn’t want to see me, so come out here and we will talk.

Okay. I’m getting her set up for a shower and then I will come out.

Bucky sat on the steps leading up to the main door of the building. His elbows are on his knees; his head is just hanging. He wonders what you are thinking about and what could have possibly gone wrong so quickly. He was so happy when he woke up this morning with you in his arms, and now? He doesn’t know what to think. Did you play him to get back at him?

Nat came out and sat next to Bucky on the stairs. She keeps her eyes in front of her and sighs. 

“Buck, you gotta tell me what the hell happened? I thought you were finally making progress?!” she yelled.

Bucky looks at the sky before he sighs, “I honestly don’t fucking know what happened. When we woke up we were fine! She acted happy about what happened at first, and…. I went to the bathroom to change and when I came out she was acting cold to me,” Bucky said, sounding defeated.

Nat shook her head and looked at him. “Do you really feelings for Y/N? Or is this just some game to get back at her for that night in the bar?” Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked at Nat. He scoffed in disbelief.

“You and I've been together for a year, Nat! You know me better than that! How could you fucking ask me something like that!?” Bucky yelled standing.

Nat stood as well. “Look, she's my best friend, and she's been hurt! I need to know if your intentions are as true as you say, before I attempt to help you win back your girl!” Nat said.

Bucky shakes his head and wipes a stray tear from his cheek. “Yes, my feelings for her are real. I was blinded by hurt and anger, but I think I've always had some feelings for her. I'm sorry if that hurts you. You've meant so much to me, Nat, but..."

"I think I always knew. There was a reason you could never ignore her. You always had to get her attention somehow. I personally think you both would make a good couple. Since this has all come to pass though you can't sleep in my room now." Nat says with a smile.

Bucky gives a breathless laugh. "Is that what she thinks though? That I lied to get her into bed? Is that what she really thinks of me?” Bucky starts to feel anger creeping up.

Nat walks up to Bucky and pulls him into a hug. His anger starts subsiding as he holds Nat tighter allowing some tears to fall. He hides his face in her neck and tries to calm down. When he does he looks at Nat and kisses her forehead in thanks.

Before Nat can react they both hear a voice, “What the fuck!” They both pull away from their embrace quickly to see you turning around and running back upstairs. Bucky doesn’t think, he runs after you, with Nat trailing behind. 

When they walk into the apartment, you're gathering your things. “Y/N, wait! What you saw–” “I don’t care what I saw James. It doesn’t matter. All it shows is that I was right and you are the biggest asshole in the world!” you said, interrupting him. Bucky slowly walks toward you.

“Y/N please, just talk to me! I don’t understand what the hell happened! What did I do to piss you off so badly? I thought we were happy!” He pleads.

You look at him with fire in your y/e/c eyes. You ignore him and look at Nat. 

“I don’t blame you, so don’t worry Nat, but I called an Uber and I'm going to the airport now. All I want now is the key to my apartment.” You say looking back at Bucky. You hold out your hand waiting.

Bucky just looks at you with sadness in his eyes. Finally he sighs defeatedly, taking the keys out of his pocket. Once he releases the apartment key from the rest of his, he places it in your hand. You put it in your pocket and pick up your duffel bag, walking toward Nat giving her a hug. 

“I'll call you when I land and we'll start plannin' my solo trip out here okay?” you say.

Nat looks at you sadly, but nods. You don’t look back toward Bucky, just walk to the door of the apartment, and leave. Nat and Bucky just look at each other for moment. Nat turns and runs out of the apartment after you.

“Y/N!” she calls as she sees you opening the door to your Uber. You turn and face her. “Bucky does have feelings for you. I've always known, and I've been the one pushing you both together. That's why I wanted you both to drive out here,” she says.

You look at her in shock, but recover quickly. “Well, your plan failed. He's lying about his feelings toward me, because I was nothing more than a bet to him. I’m sorry Nat, but it’s over.” you say.

Before she can respond you get in the car and close the door. The car pulls away and heads toward the airport, leaving Nat and Bucky behind.

–

Once you checked in to your flight, you head toward security. You place your duffel bag, purse, jacket, and shoes on the conveyer belt. You walk through the metal detector, which goes off. You check your pockets when you see the key that Bucky had. Tears start to well up in your eyes as you look at the TSA agent. You hand the key to her, “You can just throw this away. No one will need it.”

–

Nat walks sadly back into the apartment and found Bucky sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. She walks up and sits next to him. 

“What was the bet you and Sam made?” she whispered.

Bucky doesn’t move, but she hears the muffled, “What?”

She says a little louder, “What was the bet… that you made with Sam?”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at her confused. “What the hell are you talking about Nat?” he asks, exasperated.

Nat just shook her head, “Y/N saw a text message this morning between you and Sam. You apparently told him he owed you $50 bucks and he asked how far you got.”

Bucky’s looks at Nat, still confused. “Uh… I bet him I could make it to your doorstep in 3 days, but because I decided to stop last night, I owed him $50. Why?"

Nat nods quietly. “She thought you made a bet about how far you could get with her. She thought everything you said about your feelings toward her was a lie to embarrass her because of what she said at the bar.”

Bucky stares at Nat in disbelief. “Wh- wh- why didn’t she say anything to me? Why didn’t she ask me for the truth?” Bucky says.

Nat shrugs, “I don’t know. She has always been very protective of her heart, and I guess it was easier to believe that you were lying, then toying with the idea that you actually liked her. I mean lets be honest, even I was unsure, at first. You were a complete douchebag for the last year, it makes sense that she's unsure.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Maybe I should just give up. She obviously will never trust me. What’s the point in tryin'?”

Nat gives Bucky a hug as more tears fall down his cheeks.

–

You get back to your apartment early the next morning. Looking around the room, everything looks as it did when you left, but you feel so different. You walk silently to Nat’s old room and stand in the doorway looking in. All that’s left is a mattress and box spring. You walk into the room and sit on the bed. You look at the empty walls, and for the first time in awhile, you feel utterly alone. You break down and start to sob.

You miss your best friend and you can’t believe you are thinking this after everything that has happened. But you miss Bucky.

--

Part 6 / Part 8

Will Bucky give up? Feedback is appreciated. I know my stories deal with toxic relationships and that it's not the way people would deal with things? But I use this as a therapy for me and unfortunately I have a lot of toxicity in my life. If it's not something you're down with, I completely understand.

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Story Taglist: @unaxv @kandis-mom, @igotmajordaddyissues, @millercontracting, @thesoundresoundsecho, @kentokaze, @tornraltos, @bisexualnikkisixx @alwaysclassyeagle

[lunarw0rks]

hey girlie,

you're literally the best thing that happened to this fandom, ilysm, never stop writing, mwah

i had a headcanon idea/au idea from the op poster of fwb!ghost

so this is in the timeline of where you and simon have had this arrangement for a while and he's already fully aware he is down bad for you. i'm talking you're his everything, he won't love again, if not you then no one type of endgame. this means he is not seeing anyone else, everyone is turned down. you, unknowingly feel the same way but you're dealing with the exact opposite way. you're dating around, trying to find anyone who could mimic if not a sliver of what you're feeling for simon. you land on dating this dude who is... mediocre at best.

you break things off with simon, both of you leaving heartbroken but simon still remains your friend.

he's nice, but he isn't simon. he's good, but he isn't simon. you get him to meet the 141 who are possibly more surprised that you're dating anyone than you were. (what you don't know is that everyone knew you and simon were a 'thing' they were just waiting for the two of you to get your head out of your ass. price was the only one who knew because, for the first time, simon came heartbroken, searching for comfort from the only person he could think of. it was a rough night)

"this is james," you introduce him awkwardly and it doesn't get better from there. james isn't rude but he tries to match up to the guys which doesn't work. he brushes you off and simon keeps glaring at him like james was the sole reason for this evening being a shitshow (he is correct)

on your way to your apartment, james is standoffish and rude. he keeps mentioning the fact that you work with only guys, that he shouldn't allow that as a boyfriend, blahblah whatever. it turns into an argument and it doesn't get better.

to establish his masculinity (his words) he becomes rude and even misogynistic at times. he picks at your outfits, your cooking, baking, you name it he was an asshole about it. you complain to the guys and each time are met with a stern "leave him". which yes you should, but who would be left?

simon hates james with a burning passion. it wasn't even so much so that you were dating someone else, it was the fact that james treated you like trash when you were meant to be treated like gold, the finest treasures in the whole world. he scowled whenever he was mentioned and you two would often argue about your relationship. it goes as far as the two of you not talking to each other for over two weeks.

it isn't until you find out james is cheating that you break things off with him. he was going behind your back with multiple women and his flimsy excuse was that "you didn't have time for him and you cheated with the 141 anyway". you cried and threw him out, breaking up with him then and there. it was messy and bad, and you have never felt more awful. you and simon weren't even on speaking terms and yet you needed him.

you called him sobbing and you've never seen him come as fast as he did. you're pretty sure he broke speeding limits to get to you. you cried into his arms, telling him the whole story finishing it with the fact that you were never good enough. simon tries to tell you otherwise but through some miscommunication, you're arguing again and you're telling him you're unlovable until simon just shouts

"for fucks sake i love you, you idiot!"

silence. just pure silence until you throw yourself on him, kissing him deeply.

anyway, thank you for reading, hope it wasn't all that long, i just love ghost and angst a lot <3

🤍🩶🤍 *mwah smooch smooch* back to you. tysm for the love and support. that made my day, even though seeing “hey girlie” made me nervous at first LOL 🤍🩶🤍

we have a new character to the fwb!ghost timeline, and i hate him (in a good way). is it bad that i want ghost to beat him to a pulp in a back alley? just me? is this thing on?

you’re in simon’s bed that night, peacefully sleeping. all while he’s driving home with bruised knuckles. he gets home and climbs into bed with you, and you unintentionally wake up…

steamy things happen… and you notice his knuckles in the heat of the moment, but are quickly distracted by simon’s overwhelming intimacy; before you can connect the dots. he always has new bruises, new injuries — it comes with the job.

it’s sick of you to be even more aroused, watching those large, bruised hands squeezing and claiming your flesh.

and deep down, a part of you knows…

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you after a fight (Joel Miller x reader)

Month: January

Word count: ~1100

Warnings: None

Notes: I haven't written anything in months, so consider this my very shaky attempt to dip my toes back into the writing pool. It's not a masterpiece by any means, but I'm proud that I actually managed to sit down and finish it. Not beta read in the slightest

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There's a quiet creak when the front door opens in the other room. The sound easily penetrates the haze of sleep, despite the low volume. Years spent sleeping in unsafe places have conditioned you into being a light sleeper and even though you're safer now, the habit still lingers.

You blink your eyes open in the dark, seeing next to nothing in the sparsely furnished bedroom. The darkness became so much darker once electricity was no longer a common occurrence, and light pollution was nothing but a very distant memory.

The following seconds feel like forever as they tick by while you wait for the next sound to give you clue about whether or not to reach for the knife on your bedside table. But then you hear the low rumble of Joel's voice as he says goodnight to someone in the hallway, and you relax briefly, but not completely.

The fight from earlier is still fresh in your mind, the echo of the slammed door still reverberating through your bones. You wait, not sure if Joel will actually join you or if he's still angry enough with you to opt for a night spent on the couch.

You had known there would be hell to pay when you'd decided to climb that old scaffolding, disregarding the knowledge that nothing was ever as sturdy as one hoped, nowadays. But the door had been blocked, you and the others had needed to get inside, and digging through all that rubble would have taken up way too much time and would have caused way too much noise.

The choice had been between trusting old wooden planks and risking a swarm of infected coming their way. So you'd chosen the planks.

It had been a calculated risk, regardless of what Joel had said when the others had come carrying you back, your ankle badly sprained from the fall after the rotten wood had suddenly broken under your weight, just as you were reaching the top.

He had been furious, his hands shaking with held-back anger as he rolled the bandage around your foot.

The yelling had started soon after, the two of you arguing in a way that you never would have allowed yourself to do if there hadn't been fortified walls between you and the infected outside of camp.

It had felt good to yell. Less good that Joel refused to see your point of view. And the opposite of good when he eventually stormed out of the apartment, knocking over a chair in the process.

You'd hobbled over to pick it up when you could no longer hear the stomp of his heavy boots out in the corridor. You'd envied that he got to be the one storming off. You'd been pissed off too, had wanted to make an equally dramatic exit to prove it. Because you knew that if the roles had been reversed, Joel would have made the exact same decision you had. He would have been up on that scaffolding too when it broke. He was just too fuckin' stubborn to admit it.

Now, hours later, he's come back. And something like relief spreads in your chest when you hear the bedroom door open and, a moment later, you feel the mattress dip on Joel's side of the bed.

Neither of you speaks, even though you know Joel knows you're awake. Neither of you has ever been able to sleep through the other one crawling into bed.

It's a King size bed so there's plenty of room for the two of you to have your respective spaces. Right now, you're acutely aware of every inch of distance between you.

The silence is thick enough to slice through with a knife and you realize that unless either of you breaks it, no one is getting any sleep tonight. You almost think it would serve the stubborn asshole right. Almost. But in the end, you decide to be the bigger person and so you pick up the proverbial olive branch and reach it across the canyon of space between you.

”How did it go?” you ask, despite not actually knowing exactly what Joel had done during his hours away. You figure that's less important. You just want him to speak. There's a couple of more seconds of silence, just long enough for you to start wondering if maybe Joel is still too pissed for a truce. Then you hear him let out a slow exhale as if he's been holding his breath.

”Uneventful,” he replies.

”Uneventful is good,” you say. The bandage around your ankle is a good reminder of the opposite. Before Joel can make the same connection and have the fight from earlier refueled, you continue. ”What the Hell did Tommy have you do out there anyway. You smell like a forest fire.”

That draws an amused huff of air out of Joel, and you count that as a win.

”Just a good ol' family barbeque.”

”Sounds cozy. Invite me along next time?”

”Depends. Are you gonna fling yourself into the fire?”

You feel your hackles raising as the tension comes creeping back into the room at the jab. Forcing yourself to ignore it, you take a deep breath before speaking calmly.

”No. Might fling you into it though.”

Joel doesn't answer immediately and you can tell he's considering his options. Finally, he sighs like you're the sole source of all his grievances. It's not entirely fair. You wouldn't consider yourself responsible for more than 60%. Tops!

”How's the ankle?” Joel asks instead, seemingly changing his mind about rekindling the argument between you two.

”Not great,” you answer, seeing no point in lying. Joel would know. ”But the bandaging helped.”

”I'll see about finding you some painkillers in the morning,” Joel says, and you know him well enough by now to hear the apology in his voice.

”I can make you breakfast before you leave,” you reply, hoping that he hears the same apology in yours.

”...That'd be nice,” Joel answers.

The silence that falls next is void of the tension that had hung so heavily between you just a couple of minutes ago. It's only broken by the soft even breaths coming from Joel's side of the bed. You listen to them as you finally relax again.

You're certain Joel is asleep when you whisper ”I love you.”

You turn, facing away from the man sharing your bed as you hug the corner of your blanket close to your chest with a slow exhale.

Then Joel shifts and a strong arm curls protectively over your waist.

”I love you too.”