#but yeah that’s the rest of the summer ruined

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 22 - 'I'm Sorry' | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.1 k

You sat cross-legged on Trent’s bed, your phone resting limply in your hand as you watched your screen light up. Your phone rang with a call from Layla.  Your thumb hovered over her name, hesitant to answer. It continued to vibrate as you built up your courage.  You answered slowly, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you’d been on for days before her voice came through, soft and careful.

“Alright, babe?” she asked. Her tone alone made your chest tighten. You hesitated for a second, swallowing the lump in your throat before replying. 

“Yeah… uh, actually a little better. I need to see you to explain.” Your voice was small, weak even, but there was a flicker of resolve in it.

“Okay. Better is good,” Layla said gently, but her concern was palpable. There was a brief pause before she continued, almost sheepishly. “Just wanted to see if you saw that invite come through.” You frowned, confused for a moment before remembering the notification you’d ignored earlier. The invite from Shelby—one of your mutual friends—to a Manchester United end-of-season party. You’d skimmed it, immediately feeling your stomach drop at the thought of Josh possibly being there. “I’ll do what you want,” Layla continued, sensing your hesitation. “I imagine all those lads are going. I don’t want you going, obviously…” She expressed but you cut her off, your voice sharper than intended, you didn’t want to ruin the beginning of her summer.  

“Lay, you go. You and Shelbs will have fun. It’s just a big party. I just… I can’t be near—” You paused, your throat tightening at the thought of him. “Josh,” you finally said, his name burning your tongue. “I don’t know… I’m so scared of him, so please just be careful.” You cautioned her. Layla’s inhale was sharp. You could feel her anger brewing through the phone. 

“God, I’m so sorry, babe. I fucking hate him. But seriously, do you want me to come be with you tonight? I’m worried. I’m here for you.” She offered sincerely. You closed your eyes, her offer tempting, but you knew what you needed. You needed to stay put.  

“No, have fun. I… I…” You stuttered, trying to work up the courage to tell her your plans for the night. “I’m with T. I just need to be with him,” you admitted, your voice cracking as emotions began to resurface.

“Oh…” Layla paused, the shock evident in her tone. “So… you’re with him?” She asked curiously but not judgmentally. 

“Yeah.” You sighed, tears stinging your eyes again. “We’re… Or I… I just need to talk to him. Lay, Josh threatened him with a video of us. Somehow he got a video of me and him. It’s a total fucking mess. He said he didn’t hook up with Jess. And I’m terrified, but I just feel safer with him. I can’t go anywhere. I wa- I need to be with him.” You whimpered embarrassed by your dependency on Trent. The ebb and flow of your trust in him was expectedly concerning to your best friend. Layla’s response was immediate, her voice laced with fury. 

“Fucking hell. I’ll kill him.” She snapped imaging Josh’s smug look having a video like that in his possession. She paused when she heard your sharp inhale, realizing she needed to rein it in. “I’m sorry. I know. You are safe with Trent, Y/N. Be with him. He loves you.” She cooed. Her words offered some comfort, but you still felt unsteady and she could sense it. “Should I not…” she started, trailing off, you knew she’d not go tonight if you’d prefer that but it wasn’t what you wanted. 

“No, no, no,” you interjected quickly. “Please, go. It’s not like it’s his party or something. He can’t control everyone.” Layla nodded even though you couldn’t see her, your words sinking in. 

“Okay, but Josh can’t control you either, babe. We’ll handle this. Just be with Trent tonight. Someone who just wants to protect you.” Her voice softened as she reassured you.

“I love you,” you whispered, barely audible.

“Love you. You’re safe, babe. Call me anytime,” Layla said firmly, her support unwavering. When the call ended, the silence in Trent’s room felt deafening, but for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel entirely alone. Layla believed in you. Trent wanted to protect you. Maybe you could start believing in yourself again, too. The call ended, and you stared blankly at your phone, Layla’s words echoing in your mind: ‘You’re safe, babe. Call me anytime.’ The reassurance was meant to soothe you, but it only amplified the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest. You set the phone down on the edge of your bed, your fingers trembling slightly. You could feel the familiar sting of tears creeping back into your eyes, but you closed them tightly, willing yourself to stay composed. It wasn’t working. You leaned forward, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes to stop the flood, but the effort only made the sob that escaped your throat sharper. Everything felt like too much—Josh’s threats, the fear that he still had control, the relief and heartbreak of being with Trent again. It was all tangling inside of you like a knot you couldn’t undo. You got up and made your way to the en-suite of his room in an effort to try to compose yourself before Trent came up for bed. 

The room felt heavy and silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. It made the en-suite feel cold, sterile, like it was closing in around you. You sat on the edge of the sink, gripping the porcelain until your knuckles turned white. Your reflection stared back at you, pale and tear-streaked, eyes rimmed red. You barely recognized yourself. But then you noticed the earrings. The tiny gold butterfly pinned on your left ear, and the delicate blue one in your right. They shimmered faintly under the bathroom’s light, and your chest tightened. The earrings had been a gift from Trent, a token of the promise you’d made to each other when your relationship had finally begun. He had chosen them because they reminded him of you—fragile yet strong, beautiful, unique. But also your relationship; this evolving thing. Now, though, they felt like a cruel reminder of what you might lose. Your trembling fingers brushed over the butterflies, your heart aching as memories of that morning came flooding back. The way Trent had looked at you when he gave them to you, his voice soft as he told you how much you meant to him. How special you were. You’d been so happy, so sure that he was your safe place in a world that had hurt you too many times. Now, you didn’t know what to believe. You gripped the butterflies tighter, as if they could ground you. For a moment, you thought about taking them out—ripping away the reminder of everything that had fallen apart. But you couldn’t. Something in you refused to let them go. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was the way Trent had looked at you earlier in the greenhouse, his eyes full of love and regret, like he’d carry the weight of your pain if he could. Or maybe it was the act that you felt like you got a momentary reminder from your mum there that he was good. You let out a shaky breath and placed your hands on the counter, trying to steady yourself. Slowly, you reached for the tap, splashing cold water on your face. The coolness jolted you back to the present, and you let out a deep exhale, watching the water drip down your reflection. The earrings still caught the light. A tiny flicker of beauty in the midst of your heartbreak. You couldn’t let Josh take this from you. You couldn’t let him win. You grabbed a towel and patted your face dry before turning toward the door. Trent would be waiting for you. For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way through this. One fragile step at a time.

That night, as you curled into Trent’s chest, his familiar warmth began to ease the chill that had settled into your bones. His arm was draped securely around you, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your shoulder. The comfort of his touch usually calmed you, but tonight it wasn’t enough. Fear and worry churned in your chest, refusing to let you rest.

“Baby, I’m scared,” you finally whispered, your voice small and trembling. The admission felt heavy, like you were unburdening yourself but also laying bare your vulnerability. Trent’s hand stilled, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry I hurt you the other night. I never wanted to.” His apology tugged at your heart, but the knot of fear inside you refused to unravel. 

“He’s going to release it, T,” you said, your words barely audible as you tried to steady your breath. “If he finds out about us, he’ll release it.” Trent’s entire body tensed beneath you. His arm around you tightened, his jaw clenched, and you could feel the storm brewing within him. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and brimming with anger.

“I’m gonna fucking kill that lad,” he growled, the words cutting through the quiet room like a blade. “I am fucking fuming. I will fucking kill him. He can’t hurt you. He can’t fucking touch you.” His grip on you grew firmer, not out of aggression but out of his overwhelming need to protect you. Yet, in that moment, the intensity of his voice and the pressure of his hold sent you spiraling. Memories of Josh resurfaced like an unrelenting tide—his hands gripping you too tightly, his voice sharp and cruel, his presence suffocating and inescapable. Your breath hitched, and tears began to spill down your cheeks, hot and relentless. Your chest heaved with silent sobs as your body trembled against Trent’s. “Ah, fuck,” Trent muttered, his voice breaking as he realized what was happening. He immediately loosened his hold, his hands moving to cup your face and pull you back slightly so he could see you. “Fuck, pretty girl. Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I didn’t mean to scare you. C’mere. I got you. I got you.” He wrapped you back into his arms, but this time his touch was featherlight, as if he were afraid of breaking you further. He pressed kiss after kiss into your hair, murmuring apologies and reassurances as you sobbed against his chest. “It’s okay,” he cooed, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re safe with me, yeah? I’m here. I’ll always be here.” His words started to sink in, soothing the jagged edges of your fear. The rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear grounded you, steadying your breathing and slowing your tears. “What he’s doing is fucking extortion,” Trent muttered after a moment, his tone calmer but still resolute. “He can’t blackmail us. I’m speaking with Ty first thing. We’ll handle it legally. No one is taking my baby away from me. No one. Not now. Promise.” His words carried a sincerity—a vow that he would protect you at all costs. You sniffled, your face still buried in his chest, and nodded weakly.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Trent said, pulling back just enough to cup your face. His thumbs brushed away the tear tracks on your cheeks as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache. “You’re my whole world, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I swear it.” You blinked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes anchoring you. His touch, so gentle and steady, reminded you that despite everything, this was the man who loved you unconditionally.

“You promise?” you asked softly, your voice cracking.

“I promise,” Trent said firmly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Always.” You exhaled shakily and let yourself melt into his arms again, his embrace wrapping you in a sense of safety you hadn’t felt in days. Despite the chaos that awaited, in this moment, you knew you weren’t alone but you couldn’t fight back the tears. Josh had hurt you too deeply. You were battered and cruises and the cracks in your resilience were starting to show. You were breaking down.

You buried your face deeper into Trent’s chest, your tears soaking through his shirt as you clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to the earth. His arms wrapped around you firmly, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other traced gentle circles on your back. He didn’t speak much more at first, letting you cry. The weight of everything—Josh, the video, the fear, the shame, and even your own complicated feelings about Trent—poured out of you in waves. Each sob tore at his heart. Trent had never felt so helpless. He wanted to take all of it away: the pain, the fear, the scars left by people who should never have been close to you. But he knew he couldn’t. All he could do was hold you through it.

“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered after a long stretch of silence. Your voice was weak and strained, like the words were dragging out pieces of you as they left your mouth.

“Sorry? For what, baby?” Trent asked softly, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough to look at your tear-streaked face, his hands cupping your cheeks. His thumbs wiped away the tears as they fell, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“For… for being like this,” you whispered, ashamed. You couldn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the fabric of his shirt where your tears had left dark stains. “For being such a mess. For making things so hard.” You kept on trying to rationalize your apology, hoping maybe he'd understand.

“Y/N, stop, serious,” he said gently but firmly, tilting your chin up so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. His eyes were glassy, the tears he’d been holding back threatening to spill. “Don’t you ever apologize for feeling. For hurting. For being human. You’re not a mess, pretty girl. You’re my girl. And I love you, okay? All of you. Every single bit.” The sincerity in his voice broke you all over again, and the tears started fresh. Trent pulled you back into his arms, rocking you slightly as he whispered reassurances. “You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” For a moment, you let yourself believe him. You let yourself trust that someone could hold you through your brokenness, that you didn’t have to hide or pretend. But as the minutes stretched on, the weight of Josh’s threats crept back in, darkening the tiny flicker of hope Trent had sparked in you.

“Baby, no, I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest. “What if Josh does something? I’m serious, what if he releases the video? It would ruin you, T. Your career, your reputation… everything. I don’t know if I could handle that. I don’t want you to lose everything because of me.” Trent’s body tensed beneath you again, and for a moment, you felt the anger radiating off him. But when he spoke, his voice was steady, deliberate.

“Listen to me,” he said, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye again. “I told you. I’m gonna speak with Ty, but besides that… I don’t care about a video. I don’t care about my career, or what people think, or any of that. None of it matters if it means losing you. You hear me? You’re all that matters, Y/N. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” His words were like a lifeline, but they also scared you. The intensity of his love felt like a double-edged sword—comforting and terrifying all at once. You continued to cry into Trent’s chest. It felt like the fear of Josh ran deeper than his comforting embrace. But then you kissed his neck out of instinct. It was impulse. It was something you’d almost trained yourself to do. So many times you’d been upset in tear and had to put them aside for sex. You began kissing his neck. Trent’s body betrayed him. He felt all the blood rush down to his cock. You were turning him on but he didn’t want you to. He didn’t want you like this. Trent putting his hands on you felt terrifying. He felt like you were glass. He pulled away from you and your heart broke. It was like rejection all over again. Trent studied your face, his heart breaking as he saw the pain written in every inch of you. 

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt you. I need you to understand that.” His words made you freeze. His gaze wasn’t one of anger or frustration—it was pleading, desperate. He wasn’t trying to take anything from you; he was trying to stop you from giving away something you didn’t truly want to share in this moment. Your throat tightened, and a lump of shame built in your chest as the realization hit you. What you were doing wasn’t about love or desire—it was about survival, about falling back into a pattern Josh had ingrained in you. Sex had always been a way to pacify, to distract, to feel needed. Your hands had moved on instinct, exploring Trent as if you could erase the fear in your chest by drawing him closer. “I can’t believe what you’ve been through, baby,” Trent said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. His hands gently caught yours, stopping them in their tracks as he looked into your eyes. “Please. Don’t do this because you think you have to. Not with me.” Trent pleaded, begging you to follow your heart and not your hands exploring him. Your heart shattered. You wanted so badly to bridge the gap between you and him, to feel close to him again. But your mind and your body felt like they were living in two entirely different worlds.

“Please want me,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. Your voice cracked, the vulnerability in those three words raw and exposed. You hated how needy you sounded, but it was the truth. You wanted him to want you, to make you feel something other than the numbness that had taken hold of you. Trent’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he hesitated. His love for you was at war with his fear of hurting you, but when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, he gave in. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it was what you needed. But as his hands brushed over your skin, the dense thud in your chest grew heavier. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like him. The love and warmth you always felt when you were with Trent were nowhere to be found. This wasn’t passion; it was a mechanical act, an autopilot response. You were setting him up to take the bait, and he was taking it because he thought it would make you feel better but it felt like he’d lost a game you didn’t want him to even play. Deep down, you both knew this wasn’t what either of you truly wanted. It hurt in a way you couldn’t explain. Trent was nothing like Josh but right now you were acting like he was. 

Without another word, Trent had leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was gentle at first, like he was testing the waters, but as soon as you responded, something shifted. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, like he couldn't bear the space between you. Your fingers tangled in his curls, gripping them as your body arched into his. The kiss deepened, no longer hesitant but filled with an urgency that neither of you could contain. It wasn't just desire-it was need. A desperate, unspoken plea to feel something other than the ache that had settled between you. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced your skin like he was memorizing every inch, every curve. You gasped softly against his lips, and he took the sound as encouragement, his touch growing firmer, more confident. The tension in the room didn't dissipate-it lingered, heavy and unresolved-but it was joined by a different kind of intensity. The sadness and fear were still there, woven into the fabric of your movements, but they were eclipsed by the desperate need to be closer. To lose yourselves in each other, even if just for a moment. The air grew thick, filled with the sound of your breathing, the rustle of sheets as Trent shifted to press you further into the mattress. His lips left yours, trailing down your jawline, across your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands explored your body with reverence.

"Tell me you want this," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and strained. "Tell me it's okay."

"I want this," you whispered, your voice shaky but certain. It was all he needed to hear. His lips were back on yours, hungrier this time, his body pressing into yours as if trying to merge you into one. Your hands roamed over his back, his shoulders, pulling him closer, deeper. The friction between you sent sparks through your veins, igniting something that had been smoldering for far too long. But even as things grew more heated, there was an undercurrent of something else. A sadness that neither of you could escape. This wasn't just about passion-it was about holding on. About finding some semblance of connection in the middle of the chaos. Trent continued kissing you, his lips moving with deliberate care as he shifted to hover over you, his large frame blanketing yours. His eyes searched yours, silently asking for reassurance even as his hand gently cupped your cheek. His touch was tender, as though you might bruise beneath the weight of his hands, and yet his need to be close to you was palpable. You didn't trust your voice, so you let your actions speak. Moving on instinct, you reached for the hem of your top, pulling it over your head in one swift motion. Left bare save for the soft fabric of your panties.  "Please." You whispered. Your voice was shaky but filled with yearning. Leaning up, you kissed along his jawline, your lips traveling to the warm column of his neck, nuzzling into his skin before you began to suck gently. Trent froze for a moment, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He took a deep breath, conflicted. He wanted to give you everything, but he also didn't want to push you or himself into something too fragile. Yet the way you clung to him, the way you pleaded, left him wondering if maybe this was how you both could heal. Slowly, tentatively, Trent removed his own clothes. His shirt came off, revealing the toned expanse of his chest, and soon the rest of your garments joined the pile on the floor. The cool air kissed your skin, but it was his hands, his lips, his touch that truly burned. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the firm muscles under your fingertips, the rapid thrum of his heart. Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging gently on the soft curls of his hair. He groaned softly at the sensation, his lips beginning their journey down your neck. He kissed your collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake, before traveling lower. When his lips finally closed around your nipple, you let out a desperate moan, arching your back to meet him. The warmth of his mouth, the gentle scrape of his teeth, sent shivers down your spine. His hand cupped your other boob, his fingers playing, pulling, and pinching with just the right amount of pressure. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and filled with emotion, but he didn't stop. He lavished attention on your sensitive skin, his kisses, touches, and the slight rasp of his stubble making you feel electric. You buried your hands in his hair, holding him to you, desperate to keep the connection alive. His hands slid down your sides, rough yet gentle as they traced every curve, as though memorizing every inch of you. When his lips left your chest to continue their descent, you shivered, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention, the way he worshipped you.

"You okay?" he murmured softly against your skin, his breath warm and ragged. You nodded, biting your lip as tears pricked the corners of your eyes-not from pain but from the sheer vulnerability of it all. 

"Just... don't stop," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"I've got you," Trent promised, his voice husky, filled with an emotion that made your heart clench. "I've got you, baby. Tell me you want this.” Trent mumbled against your skin. You nodded with a whine as he lined his cock up with your entrance. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly begging for him to come inside. He rubbed the tip of his hard cock leaking precum against your sopping wet folds. You shouldn’t have been turned on. In a way this was exactly the way Josh had trained you. Your heart aching, sadness engulfing you, and yet your body acting completely normal, inviting him in with vigor. You shifted beneath him to pick your hips up allowing him to guide himself inside with more ease. He moved slowly inch by inch letting you adjust to his size but he just wanted to get as deep as possible until he bottomed out. You gripped the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself at the stretch. The feeling was enough to wipe your mind clear of anything other than how he was making you feel.  As wrong as it was, you both craved this. He kissed down your neck as he pulled out slightly before easing back in slower, fully burying himself one more.  “I love you so much.” He whispered. Trent rested his forehead against yours but you couldn’t look at him. You felt like you were going to cry so you kept your eyes shut. Your head tipped back onto the pillow with one hand squeezing your own nipple as Trent kept his strokes steady. You tipped your head back further as his pace became more relentless. Your jaw slack, eyes closed tight. 

“I love you.” You whimpered with a sniffle as a tear rolled down your cheek. Trent swallowed, feeling a lump form in his throat. He cupped your cheek wiping away the tear. 

“I’m here. Right here.” He murmured. He knew you didn't want to stop. You would’ve been more upset if he did. So you continued on. There was no other noise in the room but the sound of heartbreak and your slickness as he fucked his cock slowly and gently into you. Your legs stayed wrapped around him tightly as you let one of your heels drag down his muscular back, making sure he didn’t pull out but your tears continued falling, your body shaking a little. If anyone else did this he would be confused and probably turned off but he understood you, he understood the lustful desire and unfortunately the aching pain in your chest that he was feeling too. He leaned over you, your tear stained cheeks and heaving chest pressed against him as he continued to fucked you gently. Your pussy dripped around him. Trent could feel the veins running along his cock throbbing. He worked his hips faster, harsher. Both of your pleasure building higher and higher. 

“T... I’m… I’m going to cum” You mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name sounding so weak from your softly parted lips. He groaned, feeling himself barreling close to his own release though from the way you were squeezing his cock now. Your body succumbing to pure euphoria and seeing white. He bit down onto your shoulder, his pace growing sloppy. 

“Cum for me baby. Doing so good for me.” he cooed, nipping at your collarbone. You whined and felt your eyes roll back as you reached your high. Your pussy quivered around him.  Every little shift was orgasmic. You couldn’t hold in the soft whiny cry you let out. Your lips parted, biting the skin of his neck. Your pussy was sopping wet now, the slow and intense movements had you gushing all over him. The sex was so tender and sweet yet equally sad. “Gonna cum, yeah? That okay?” He asked you through a strained voice as you held onto him. You could only nod again, tears reappearing, toes curled before everything went white, falling apart. Despite the emotional turmoil, he felt so good and you didn’t want him to pull out. This felt too good. His thrusts began to slow as he buried himself deeper inside you. He gripped you so tightly, holding you completely flush against him. Stilling as his warm cum pumped deep inside of you. His hands rubbed your trembling slightly sweaty body in the softest way. He kissed you everywhere he could. You just stayed tight to him refusing to break away.  “You alright, baby?” Trent whispered, his voice soft and full of concern as he hovered over you. His fingers brushed your cheek gently, his thumb catching a stray tear. His dark eyes searched your face, taking in every detail—the way your cheeks were flushed, your lips trembling, and your eyes squeezed tightly shut, as if holding back a flood. You nodded quickly, unable to trust yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, and you knew that if you tried to answer him, your voice would crack, betraying just how fragile you felt in this moment. The weight of everything—of your past, your pain, and the overwhelming tenderness of the man above you—pressed against your chest. Trent’s brow furrowed, his concern deepening as he leaned closer. “Baby,” he urged gently, his warm breath fanning over your face. Your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you reached up, your fingers curling around his wrist as his hand remained on your cheek. It was your silent plea to stay close, to not pull away. “I’m right here,” he reassured you, his voice cracking slightly with the weight of his own emotions. His thumb continued to stroke your cheek, grounding you. “I’ve got you, yeah? Always.” Your breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears slipping from your closed eyes. You hated feeling this vulnerable, hated that you couldn’t hide the rawness inside you, but Trent’s presence made it bearable. His love wrapped around you like a shield, softening the sharp edges of your fear and sadness. Finally, you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. His expression was so full of love and patience that it broke something inside you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your voice barely audible but nonetheless broken. Trent stayed on top of you, his weight grounding you even as the guilt began to creep in. His breathing was still heavy, matching yours, and his curls tickled your skin as he rested his face between your boobs, his warm breath fanning over your damp skin. The room was quiet save for the sound of your heartbeats slowing, the intensity of the moment dissipating into an uncomfortable stillness. Neither of you spoke any more after your vacant apology. There were no words for the complicated knot of emotions tightening in your chest. For a while, you simply lay there, your fingers brushing lightly through his hair, but even that small gesture felt hollow. It wasn't comfort. It wasn't resolution. Eventually, Trent stirred, his lips brushing against your collarbone in a fleeting touch. He lifted his head slowly, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite name-sadness, maybe, or regret. Without a word, he shifted, carefully pulling out of you, his body leaving yours cold in the absence of his warmth. The air completely sucked out of the room. He rolled off of you and onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. The weight of everything hung heavy in the room, pressing down on both of you, suffocating in its intensity. The physical high you'd just shared only amplified the emotional low settling between you. You turned your head to look at him, your eyes scanning his profile-the way his jaw clenched, the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. He looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to.

"T," you whispered, your voice soft but strained. He didn't respond right away. His hand came up to rub over his face, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. 

"I'm so sorry." He murmured into the empty silence of the dark room.

"For what?" you asked, your own guilt weighing heavily on you.

"For... this," he said, gesturing vaguely between you but he didn’t turn his head towards you, his gaze stayed fixated on the ceiling. "For not stopping. For letting it happen when I knew... when I knew it wasn't what you needed right now." He sheepishly told you. Your heart ached at his words because they felt true, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to regret it fully. He was not Josh, he didn’t want what just happened. Not like that. It felt wrong. Josh relished in using you for sex to rectify problems, to act like he cared, but all you did was just create a new one with Trent. He was hurting.

"I asked for it, T. I wanted it." You earnestly told him. That was true. You did want it, but why and what for, was a glaringly obvious reg flag. A remnant of Josh’s disgusting conditioning. The only way he could possibly love you was if you fucked hin, and so you did the same with Trent. It was fucked up. You watched him blink a few times, his perfectly curled dark eyelashes batting away what you prayed wasn’t the build up of tears. Even though he wouldn’t turn to look at you, you could still perfectly make out that his eyes were filled with turmoil. 

"But did you need it? Did it help, or did it just... make things worse?" He asked you pleadingly. He knew you wanted to have sex with him. It wasn’t about the consent of the act but rather the consciousness of it. The question hung in the air, and you didn't have an answer. You both laid there with the other, the silence between you louder than any words could be. Neither of you could shake the feeling that you'd both taken a step further away from the connection you were trying so hard to hold onto. The room fell silent for a long while after that. Trent lay motionless, his chest rising and falling unevenly as his mind raced. The dim light cast shadows on the ceiling, but his eyes were unable to focus. He couldn’t wrap his head around the blur between the physical sensations still humming through his body and the weight of the emotional aftermath sinking into his heart. He couldn't reconcile it-how his body could feel one thing, while his heart ached with the opposite. His arms rested limply at his sides, too heavy to move. The thin sheen of sweat cooling on his skin only made him feel exposed, raw. Tears welled in your eyes, and you turned your head away momentarily, unable to look at him anymore. You felt defeated, ashamed, and more alone than ever-even with him right next to you.

"T.." Your voice broke through the thick silence once over, soft but trembling. He hummed in response, his throat dry. But he didn't turn his head to look at you still. He couldn't not yet. Guilt clawed at his chest, despite everything. You asked for this yet it felt cold. You wanted it. He hadn't forced you-but why did it feel like he'd done something wrong? "Did you love her?" you whispered, your voice so small it almost disappeared into the air between you. The question hit him like a blow. He blinked, the ceiling above him suddenly too sharp, too vivid. He exhaled sharply but still didn't meet your gaze. His lips parted, but no words came out at first. Not because he didn't have an answer, but because he was overwhelmed-confused, emotional, and drowning in a wave of guilt and frustration. You couldn't stop yourself. You stared at him, inspecting every detail of his face. The way his bottom lip hung slightly gaped from the top, the tense line of his jaw, the crease in his brow. He laid there feeling hollow despite his best efforts to help. You needed to understand him, to break past the wall he seemed to be building in this silence. The insecurity was clawing at your insides, threatening to consume you. Your past haunted you and right now it was seeping into your present. The way Josh had rewired you to think all men were, had you fearing Jess. She was the ghost in the room you couldn't escape. All you could think about was her-her presence in Trent's life before you, the ways she might have had touched him, been with him, loved him. You hated it. Your thoughts spiraled into a desperate need to prove yourself to him, to make him see why you were different. Why you were better. You'd done everything-fought for him, forgiven him, fucked him, even begged him. You wanted to show him that you would do anything for him. But now, as you lay beside him, all you felt was a hollow emptiness. The act that was supposed to bring you closer had only widened the gap, leaving both of you in the cold. This was new to you because this time, the man next to you in bed truly cared.  Finally, Trent turned his head to look at you. His eyes were red-rimmed, a storm of emotions swirling in them-confusion, sorrow, regret.

“Never.” Trent finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, the only other sound were the sheets shifting beneath you pillowing his words. He cupped your cheek and made you look at him, really look at him. Trent’s hand stilled on your cheek as your words lingered in the air, cutting through the fragile peace between you. His chest rose sharply with a deep, steadying breath, but the storm brewing behind his soft brown eyes betrayed him. “Not even close,” he repeated, his voice firm but strained, as if clinging desperately to the truth of his feelings. His thumb brushed against your skin, grounding himself in the contact, but you could feel the tension in his hold—the way he was barely keeping it together. “Look at me,” he whispered, tilting your face gently so your eyes met his. The weight of his gaze made it impossible to retreat further, even though every instinct told you to. You wanted to hide, to shield yourself from how raw, how real this moment was becoming. But in a moment of vulnerability… you felt yourself pull away from him. You knew Trent was different. This was different. You couldn’t fix things or gain anything by using sex as a bandaid like you did with Josh, not when real feelings were at play and so the only thing you could do was set it on fire in an effort to protect yourself. 

“Did you ever think that maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be together?” you asked, the words falling from your lips without forethought, sayinging something you didn’t even think about. It wasn’t what you wanted to say. It wasn’t what you felt deep down. But it was easier to let those words fill the space than to confront the fear twisting inside you. Trent flinched as if you’d struck him. His blood going ice cold. He didn’t know how to convince you this was right when in the moment you were making it feel so very wrong. You were hurting but now so was he. Trent really thought when he just turned to look at you things would be better, not worse. It was quiet. The silence of the room was deafening. His hand faltered for a moment before settling back on your cheek, his touch softer now, almost hesitant. 

“Why would you say that?” he asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the heavy stillness in the room. You swallowed hard, your throat burning with unshed tears. His jaw tightened and he shut his eyes and you watched his eyelashes lay on his cheek for a moment longer than comfortable, shielding himself from the hurt; as if he was bracing for impact and so you took the final blow. 

“You said you didn’t want to take advantage…” you whispered, your voice cracking. It wasn’t what you meant, not really, but you knew the weight of those words would land, and you hated yourself for using them. You didn’t mean it but you knew what you were doing. You didn’t know why you were doing it but it was happening nevertheless. You were letting this relationship go up in flames with an ease you loathed. An ease Josh made you have and now you were letting the flames engulf Trent with you. Trent’s eyes snapped open, wide and glassy with disbelief. He searched your face as if trying to find some hint that you didn’t mean it, that this was all a misunderstanding. The weight of the night settled heavily between you. It was unbearable, suffocating, like the air had been vacuumed out of the room. You both laid completely still. You felt like you were tearing down the house you’d built together—stripping it bare, brick by brick, without even meaning to. Ripping the walls out, slashing the pipes and yet only his silence and heartbeat made a sound. There was no shouting, no anger, no big crash. Just the quiet dismantling of something fragile, something that felt too precious to lose but too painful to hold onto in the moment. His silence pierced through you, and yet, it wasn’t cold—it was sorrowful, the kind of quiet that spoke volumes about his own inner turmoil. Trent's hand, which had dropped to rest on your arm, tightened slightly on your arm, his heart aching at the sound of your pain. 

“If you feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” Trent finally whispered, his voice raw and achingly soft, “if you feel like I’m in control of this in a way that you’re not… we can’t do this. I won��t.” His hand on you withdrew slowly. It wasn’t harsh, but it left a hollow ache in its absence, as though he were pulling back to keep from causing more damage. There it was. The white flag you indirectly and subconsciously pushed him to raise. He was defeated. He couldn’t win. He felt powerless. He felt so awkward. Like if he touched you again it would change your perspective but if he didn’t it would do just the same. You had dismantled something so quietly, so swiftly. He exhaled deeply, his breath shaky, like he was trying to keep himself from crumbling entirely. It felt like there were worlds between you to now, when in reality it was mere inches but as the night engulfed the room, Trent moved from facing you onto his back creating a distance that felt like something you may never be able to close. Trent’s words hung in the air like the faint echo of a storm, their quiet weight pressing down on you as he pulled away. The warmth of his hand left your skin, replaced by an emptiness that seemed to seep into the space between you. His quiet resolve settled over the room like a suffocating blanket. You had spent so long trying to survive, to appease, to navigate a world where love meant control and touch often felt like an obligation. And yet, here he was—letting you go, even if it broke him. Trent’s restraint wasn’t rejection; it was love. It was understanding. But it hurt all the same. 

“I’ve only ever been in love once… I’ll only ever be in love once. And that’s with you.” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. His voice cracked slightly, and the sound shattered you. Your heart clenched painfully at his confession. The vulnerability in his words was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. You stared at his profile, the way his lashes rested against his cheek when he blinked, the tension in his jaw as he tried to steady himself. “Just… take your time,” he added, his voice quieter now, almost inaudible. And then, with the finality of someone who had resigned themselves to the pain, he rolled over, his head resting on his pillow. You watched him, the way he clutched the pillow beneath his head as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His back was to you now, and it felt like a wall you couldn’t scale, no matter how much you wanted to reach for him. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered again, so softly you weren’t sure if it was meant for you or for himself. His words hung in the air, heavy and unresolved, as the night overtook the room. Trent wasn’t like Josh. He wasn’t trying to control you or force you into anything. But in that moment, the weight of your past, the weight of your fears, was too much for either of you to carry alone. And as he lay there, quiet and still, you realized just how much you had both been hurt in ways neither of you fully knew how to heal. You watched the way his shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath, steady but strained. It wasn’t just awkwardness you felt—it was guilt, raw and biting, clawing at your chest. You wanted to speak, to reassure him, to take back the words you didn’t even mean, but your throat felt like it had closed up.in an effort to save yourself you had somehow managed to cut off the only thing that was keeping you alive. Trent had let you go, the chasm in the bed now was too much to breach. The silence between you was deafening, punctuated only by the faint sounds of the night filtering in through the window. It was strange how a room could feel so full of unspoken emotions yet so achingly empty at the same time.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room that felt at odds with the tension between you. The quiet was almost suffocating, the kind of silence that held so much unsaid. Despite the turmoil of the night before, your bodies had instinctively found each other, seeking comfort in a way words couldn’t offer. You’d spent hours wrapped around one another, as if letting go would mean accepting what neither of you wanted to face. Trent’s arms had stayed around you, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, grounding you even as your mind raced. The morning finally had arrived, it felt like an unspoken truce, a shared understanding that this moment, however fleeting, couldn’t last. You stayed in bed longer than usual, the weight of reality pressing down on both of you. Trent’s fingers traced absent patterns on your arm, and neither of you spoke, afraid to shatter the fragile peace. When you finally sat up, the loss of his touch was immediate and jarring.

Getting dressed felt mechanical. Each movement slow and deliberate, as if prolonging the inevitable goodbye. By the time you made your way downstairs, the air between you had shifted. You could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet them. At the door, you hesitated, your hand resting on the handle. Your throat was tight, the words you wanted to say lodged somewhere deep inside. 

“T…” you whispered, your voice trembling. He was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight. He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on a spot just beyond you. It wasn’t that he didn’t hear you—he was trying to hold himself together, to keep from begging you to stay, from saying something that might push you further away. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were heavy with emotion. 

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. 

“I… I just want to say thank you. For… for last night.” Your voice cracked, and you looked away, your own emotions threatening to overwhelm you. It was all you could say. What had transpired last night couldn’t be encapsulated in a sentence or two. Your feelings for him, the hurt you felt would fill volumes and so you settled for a thank you. Trent shifted, his body tensing as if he was fighting every instinct to close the space between you. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I just… I just want you to be okay.” You nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

“I don’t know what okay looks like right now,” you admitted, your voice breaking. He took a cautious step towards you. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he replied, his words careful, measured. The pet name hurt. He sympathetically smiled at you but it was insincere. His heart was in pieces, shattered on the floor right next to yours. “But you know I’m here, right? No matter what… I’m here.” His words broke something in you, and you glanced back at him, finally meeting his eyes. He was being mature and understanding and it hurt. The depth of his care, his pain, and his love was laid bare, and it was almost too much to bear.

“I know,” you whispered, tears welled up in your eyes, ready to spill over. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to be loved like this. I’m just so sorry I’m hard to love,” you confessed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.  “I don’t know how to feel safe and not push you away when I do.” You whimpered as the tears slipped down your cheeks. Trent’s jaw tightened, his heart breaking as he watched you crumble in front of him. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, before pulling you into him. His arms enveloped you, one circling your waist while the other cradled the back of your head. You pressed your face into his chest, your tears dampening his shirt but he didn’t care, not one bit. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if trying to transfer every ounce of his love and reassurance. 

“You are the easiest girl to love, pretty girl. And I will love you in whatever way and any way you need me to love you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. His grip tightened slightly, as though he was memorizing the feel of you in his arms, just in case it would be the last time. “Forever, it’s you,” he murmured, his words so soft they were almost lost in the quiet of the room. “Just please know that will never change, no matter what you decide you want.” Your breath hitched and you sobbed into his chest, overwhelmed by his words, by the way he loved you so unconditionally. 

“I love you,” you whimpered, the words breaking as they left your lips. He closed his eyes, his own tears threatening to fall as he held you. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he whispered back, rocking you gently as you cried. “And that’s enough for me.”

The house was alive with chaos—a sea of bodies swaying to deafening music, flashing lights bouncing off the walls in a kaleidoscope of color. Conversations were drowned out by the thrum of bass, laughter spilling over in waves as the party hit its peak. Layla stood in the center of it all, a drink in hand, but her focus was fractured. Her chest felt tight, as if a weight pressed against it, the absence of you palpable. You weren’t here, and while you’d told her to have fun, it didn’t feel right. Still, she pushed through. You needed her to, even if she didn’t fully understand why. Fifteen songs later and five drinks deeper, Layla felt the alcohol warm her insides, dulling some of her guilt but sharpening her resolve. She scanned the room, her sharp eyes skipping over familiar faces until they landed on Devon, standing by the edge of the kitchen, drink in hand, smirking as he caught her gaze. Josh wasn’t here yet—or at least, she hadn’t spotted him—but Devon would have to do. He was Josh’s friend, and as much as Layla disliked him by association, he was her best shot at getting answers. He was handsome, she was hot, they’d met a few times before and maybe there might’ve been some chemistry there but really there was only one reason driving Layla that night. She didn’t trust him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use him.

Their banter had started easily enough, a few playful comments traded back and forth. Devon leaned in close, his lips hovering near her ear as if he had to compete with the music, but Layla knew it was more than that. He was testing the waters, his hand brushing hers just lightly enough to be suggestive.

“I think we’re crossing enemy lines here,” he teased, his voice low and full of charm. Layla smirked, meeting his gaze with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. 

“I’ll cross any line you want,” she whispered, leaning in close, her breath warm against his cheek. “But let me borrow your phone first. I just need to text my friend before we leave.” Devon blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but the bait was too tempting to resist. He handed over his phone without hesitation, his smirk deepening. 

“Make it quick, yeah?” he said, his tone dripping with suggestion. Layla turned on her heel, spinning away with a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. Devon’s gaze stayed glued to her as she made her way toward the hallway, phone in hand, pretending to type. She could feel the heat of his eyes on her, but as soon as she rounded the corner, her facade dropped. Her fingers moved swiftly, navigating his phone with practiced ease. She scrolled through messages, DMs, and photos, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched for anything—any hint, any clue that could tie Devon or Josh to what had happened to you. She dug deeper and deeper, her frustration mounting as nothing turned up. She huffed, leaning against the wall. The blue light of the phone screen illuminated her features in the dark hallway, casting shadows under her eyes that betrayed her exhaustion. Layla was starting to second-guess her plan as the party raged around her. The house felt suffocating, the music thundering through her chest as if it was synced to her racing heartbeat. Layla was so invested in her hunt she barely noticed Devon coming to lean lazily against the wall beside her, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her hold his phone.

“You find what you’re looking for, or are you just trying to steal my playlist?” he teased, his voice low and laced with amusement. Layla forced a playful laugh, flipping her hair over her shoulder to buy herself a moment. Her fingers worked quickly, scrolling out of his apps and messages, trying to stay one step ahead of Devon’s curiosity.

“I’m just making sure you’re not boring,” she shot back, her tone teasing but with a slight edge of distraction. Devon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 

“Trust me, babe, I’m anything but boring.” He cooed. Layla ignored his cocky response. Devon noticed her change in demeanor, his smirk fading as he pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “You alright?” he asked, his tone shifting slightly to one of genuine concern. Layla forced a smile again and handed his back to him as casually as she could. 

“Just had to make sure my girls know I’m with you. Don’t want them thinking I’ve disappeared.” She cooed, turning into him. Devon grinned, clearly pleased with her response. 

“Disappeared, huh? I’ll make sure you stay right where I can see you.” He leaned into her pinching at her waist. She giggled swatting at his hand with a sloppy smile. Maybe it was the alcohol, but a part of her kind of wanted to actually go home with Devon. She didn’t find anything incriminating, he was sort of sweet and definitely handsome. Her mind was racing though, the threads were unraveling, but the knot at the center was still tied too tightly. She needed to find out more. She was committed for you… and maybe there was a little bit in it for her now. So she played along, laughing at Devon’s jokes and letting him guide her through the crowded house. Her focus drifting from being laser-sharp, every glance, every word a calculated move with intent to something a bit looser.  She’d come here for answers, and she knew Devon had to know something so maybe spending a little more time with him wouldn’t hurt. 

The soft hum of Devon’s snores filled the dimly lit bedroom. Layla sat up slowly, careful not to disturb him, and slipped his phone from the bedside table. Her pulse quickened as she padded to the en-suite bathroom, the door creaking slightly as she shut it behind her. She pressed her back to the wall and sank to the floor with a deep breath. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the phone. Devon had been easy to charm, he actually wasn’t so bad, nice in fact, but what she held in her hand right now would tell her the harsh reality, what he really knew. 

The room was dark, the blue light burning her eyes as she scrolled in Devon’s phone, sat on the floor. Scrolling through his messages again Layla’s breath became unsteady, uneven. Her pulse quickened as she skimmed through group chats and threads. Still, there was nothing that immediately jumped out as damning. She finally decided to go back to Devon’s messages with Josh, her hands trembling slightly. The messages were cryptic as she delved deeper. It felt like she was missing something, a part of their puzzle, so she continued to scroll. She almost didn’t want to find more context, even the thought made her stomach churn but she had to do this. Her grip tightened on the phone as she scrolled faster, reading more and more messages. Her eyes darted over the screen, piecing together fragments of a conversation. 

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. But just as she was about to give up, something caught her eye—an attachment buried deep in their thread of texts. Layla’s vision blurred with anger and panic. She shut her eyes tight. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. There it was: a screenshot of an Instagram DM from Jess to Josh, and then, her stomach dropped—the video attached. The video of you. You, on your knees for Trent, vulnerable in a way that made Layla’s blood run cold. She felt sick.  Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling the gasp that escaped her lips as tears stung her eyes. The room felt heavier than the silence that followed. Layla sat with her knees pulled to her chest, the dim blue light of the phone casting ghostly shadows on her face. She couldn’t stop trembling. The weight of what she’d seen, and what it meant, pressed down on her like a tidal wave.

“You really are interested in my phone, huh? Find anything good?” Devon’s tired voice shattered the silence, making her jump. Layla turned, looking up at him, fumbling the phone as she tried to recover. 

“Fuck… I was just—” She stumbled out words.  Devon leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching her with an expression that was far too calm for her liking. He had a sleepy smile that was handsome but it couldn’t mask what was on his phone. 

“You find that screenshot of the video Jess sent?” he asked, his tone softer than she expected. He smirked but not smugly. He smirked in a way that was sympathetic. His eyebrows raised as if he himself couldn’t even believe he had seen what she sent. He assumed that's what she was looking for. It was really the only thing that tied him and Layla together. The only reason they knew one another. Layla’s jaw dropped in surprise though that he knew it existed at all and still had the audacity to try to be with her.

“So Jess actually sent that... and you've seen it?” Layla asked again, her voice cracking. She needed him to confirm it—needed him to say it out loud so it felt real. Devon sighed, running a hand over his hair, his expression torn between guilt and discomfort. He shrugged, sliding down the wall to sit beside her. 

“I haven't seen it, no. But. yeah… she sent it to Josh. I don’t know why. Guess she wanted to stir shit up.” He cooed gently looking only at Layla, not his phone that she currently was planning on holding ransom until she got answers. Layla glared at him, her chest heaving with frustration. 

“You’re lying.” Her voice wavered, sharp and accusing. 

“Look, baby, I don’t know what’s going on there, but I’m keeping my hands clean. I don’t want any part of it.” Devon tried to explain his arm reaching out towards her knee but Layla winced at the pet name. Her eyes narrowed, her anger bubbling over. 

“Well, you are playing a part, Devon. You know Josh has that video—of Y/N and Trent, two people in a relationship, in love—and he’s using it to blackmail them. That makes you complicit.” She harshly bit back. He paused for a moment. He didn’t know you and Trent were a couple, let alone in love. He saw you at dinner once, but people go on dates all the time. The only things he heard were from Josh’s perspective. And in his opinion you weren’t allowed to be with Trent. In fact, you wanted Josh instead.

“I didn’t know they were properly together,” Devon muttered, his voice quieter now, guilt flashing across his face. 

“They shouldn’t have to be,” Layla snapped, shoving the phone back into his hands. Her tears were threatening to spill over now, her emotions a tangled mess of fury and heartbreak. “And they fucking can’t be if he has this. This is fucked up, Devon. You’re letting him ruin someone’s life, and you just sit back like it’s nothing? I don’t understand how you can be okay with that.” She whimpered.  Devon winced, the weight of her words visibly sinking in. He leaned back against the cold wall, his hands rubbing his face. 

“Fuck… I’m sorry. You’re right,” he whispered finally. Layla sniffled trying to keep herself together. She was aching for you. “I should’ve done something, stopped it. I just… I didn’t want to get involved. It’s Josh, you know? I mean yeah, I see him a lot, were on the same squad but I try not to fuck with him too much.” Devon weakly tried to explain. Layla’s tears started to spill, her voice growing more impassioned. 

“She’s my best friend, Devon! Do you even understand what this is doing to her? He’s blackmailing her. That video—it’s not just some stupid gossip. It could ruin everything for them… For Trent. And you’re just sitting here pretending like you’re not part of it? Like imagine if someone had a video of you and sent it to the fucking media… Because that's what he's doing. People's private relationship being broadcasted publicly and used to hurt them. Imagine what they feel right now that people like you even have fucking screenshots of this.” Layla yelped with a little more force. Devon sat still, the seriousness of her words bearing down on him. 

“I… I didn’t know it was like that. I didn’t think about it that way,” he said softly. Layla’s comment had landed. Devon felt stupid. He didn’t really know nor care for Trent, they played for rival clubs too after all, but the sentiment still stood. He understood this wasn't the little tiff he dubbed it to be before. He realized what Josh was threatening Trent with. “I thought it was just… I don’t know, some drama between exes that didn’t involve me. I didn’t… I didn’t think of how damaging it could be.” Devon spoke earnestly.

“It is,” Layla shot back, wiping her tears angrily. “And if you care at all…” She shook her head and took a deep breath attempting to compose herself. “You know, maybe about me.” She said unexpectedly to even herself. Maybe she had developed more feelings for Devon then she realized or maybe she was using it as leverage- she couldn't decide but she didn’t care, that wasn't the focus right now. You were. “Or just being a fucking good person and do the right thing, you need to help me fix this.” She pleaded. Devon looked at her, his liable gaze meeting her hurt one. For a moment, it was just the two of them illuminated only by the dim phone screen, the air between them thick with tension. “Devon, you know he hurt her right?” she looked at him curiously. Devon’s eyes narrowed. He looked confused and a part of Layla prayed it was honest innocence. She hoped maybe Devon wasn’t bad. That this was an indiscretion and he was nothing like Josh. If he knew, she could never forgive him. In fact, she’d kill him. “He abused her. The way he spoke to her… Fuck! The texts I’d see that he’d send her. She’d have cuts and bruises all the time… Did you know that?” Layla weakly asked him as tears coursed down her cheeks. 

“No.” Devon responded flatly. He swallowed feeling sick. He didn’t know any of that. He shut his eyes for a moment and then cleared his throat. “He can’t do that. I’m so sorry. What do you want me to do? What can I do, Layla?” He asked finally, his voice resigned but sincere. Layla straightened, her jaw tight as she wiped the last of her tears. 

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 23 xx

[gottagobackintime]

Who found out today that they have a fracture in the foot/leg?

[screwpinecaprice]

@glowweek Day 5 FAMILY | FRIENDS

Peridot and specially Lapis do not trust the racoons.

Specifically chose this angle so I don't draw feet. _(:,3」∠)_

Mi own connverse kids Ebony and Rohini are there! And technically Sakura and Zachary. (Please until now I don't know what else to name them. 😭)

And sorry the older Maheswarans aren't there. I don't know where to put them and I already had character overload. 😞

Hibiscus print on Bismuth's shirt is from ManMadeOfGold!

Speaking of shirt, another thing I avoided was thinking of their outfit designs. 😅 It's somewhere a little over a decade of timeskip since SU:Future and I'm sure at least one or two would've reformed during the time. So I'm gonna say they wanted to keep the vibe of a casual outdoors picnic-type event so they wore the casual themes.

[anthotneystark]

Well, if you're rough and ready for love (Honey, I'm tougher than the rest)

(edit: now on ao3!)

Eddie is suffering.

It’s hardly the first time, but it’s self-inflicted this time. At least it’s not going to physically almost kill him like the bats did.

Emotionally, sure, but not physically. That has to be some kind of win.

“Did you get Vecna’d? Do I have to get my trumpet? I don’t know if you can play Metallica on a horn, but I’ll try if you need me to.”

“Buckley, I would pay money to see you attempt it,” he says absently, his gaze never moving.

“Good, I could use the bonus.”

“Probably a good time to say I’ve only got Monopoly money.”

“Damn, there goes that plan.”

He hums an agreement, startling a moment later when a hand is suddenly blocking his view.

“Stop drooling, it’s not attractive.”

“Nothing about me is attractive to you.”

“Fair, but still. Ew,” she snorts.

“It’s not my fault, I can’t help it. He’s just so….” He doesn’t even have a word for it, so he just sighs.

“Who would have thought. Mr. Anti-Conformity drooling over Jock Extraordinaire. He’s wearing pastels. What have you become?”

“Shut up, he’s your platonic soulmate.”

“He is. And I love him. I just also know that he’s all sporty and preppy.”

“He can be as sporty as he wants as long as he keeps wearing those shorts he had on the other day.”

“Gross.”

“Even you can admit he looked good.”

“Sure, but you’re drooling again.”

He should be allowed a little drool. Steve had looked so biteable.

“He’s not even wearing shorts today, it’s too cold for that, doofus.” It was. Summer had well and truly turned into fall. Shorts had been replaced by jeans (except on the days Steve and Lucas played basketball, then the shorts came back out), polos more often than not were exchanged for sweaters, and by god, it was kissing him even more than the shorts and tank tops of summer had.

(This is without even considering the extreme number of shirts that Steve had sacrificed to become half shirts “for more air flow, because I can’t just walk around shirtless, obviously.” Because it was obvious. Showing his chest was too much, but the soft skin of his stomach, interrupted by the trail of dark hair vanishing under his waist band, wasn’t too much. Obviously.)

It made no sense. It shouldn’t have been worse with less skin showing. But it was because somehow, knowing that the soft knit of those sweaters was covering slowly paling skin, strong muscles and that beautiful, amazing layer of softness that rounded out hard edges…well, it completely ruined his train of thought until he couldn’t remember where he’d been going originally.

Worth it, just getting to imagine how Steve looked under his clothes.

“He’s worn this stuff before, why does it have you in a coma today?” Robin sighs, put upon even though it was her decision to sit with him.

“His hair.” Because that was the kicker today. Because Steve Harrington had never walked outside looking less than completely perfect.

Because Steve somehow managed to look amazing even roughed up and dirty.

Because Stevie was comfortable with himself and picked the clothes he liked and didn’t bother hiding scars that only proved how far he’d be willing to go to protect his loved ones and didn’t care about if he didn’t look perfect.

“He didn’t style it.”

“I can see how you’d get that impression, but I assure you he did.”

“What?!” That makes Eddie finally look at her, nearly falling over where he’s sat.

“Yeah. It’s just not hairspray. He’s trying something new.”

“It works for him.” The response is automatic. Because it’s true. Because poofed up and closer to god could only work on someone as pretty as Steve, and gunked up and water-logged could only work on someone as pretty as Steve, and bedhead could only look that good on someone as pretty as Steve.

Steve is just. So pretty.

But today, today it’s not firmly in place, soft even if it’s not going to move from it’s position. Today it’s not slicked back with water as he pops up from under it to splash one of the kids. Today it’s not half flat from where he slept on it, the same side he’ll leave pressed into Eddie’s shoulder if he’s not quite ready to start the day.

Today, it’s soft, curling around his ears, over his forehead, fluttering in the wind. It’s not the same kind of curly that his own hair is, the chaotic kind that if he tried to brush it, it’d eat the brush. It’s gentler, and he desperately wants to touch it.

“Seriously, I’m worried about your brain right now.”

“My brain is fine.”

“Close your mouth then.” Well, that’s embarrassing. He tosses a glare at her, and it’s just enough time to miss Steve heading their way. He does fall over where he’s sitting this time, but it’s so worth it because it makes Steve laugh.

He’d do an embarrassing amount of things to hear that laugh.

“You okay?” Steve asks, looking so fond and amused at Eddie’s antics that it makes his heart skip a beat.

It’s still surprising, having that look aimed at him, getting it from Steve.

“Fear not, Sir Stevington, I will survive,” he says, pushing himself up dramatically. Steve’s eyes crinkle as he snorts another laugh, and they both ignore Robin quietly bleching.

“Yeah? Good. I’d hate to see you get through everything just to get taken out by your own theatrics,” Steve says. Eddie doesn’t even have time to react – Steve’s smiling and that always slows him down – when his gorgeous, beautiful friend pulls off that pale green sweater and presses it into Eddie’s hands.

“Don’t get cold on me, alright? I saw you shivering,” he says, like he hasn’t just ruffled his own hair once more and completely distracted all of Eddie’s thoughts in the blink of an eye.

And then he’s gone, off to give another attempt at skateboarding (trying to follow Max’s instructions and letting her laugh at him when she hears him fall before she does whatever trick it is perfectly even without her sight), and Eddie is left standing there, watching that perfect, broad back covered by a too tight tee shirt.

“This is a whole new level of pathetic, I think.”

“Shup it,” Eddie says, then freezes, feels her shit-eating grin growing. “Shut up!” He groans.

She can laugh all she wants, he decides, pulling Steve’s sweater over his head. It’s warm with his body heat, smells like his soap and his cologne and him.

She can laugh, he’s got a beautiful boy to watch, one who looks at him with a promise of what’s to come, when the time is right.

[bloodibambiidoll]

I Think I Could Love You (Eric Draven x Reader)

After narrowly escaping rehab you and Eric finally get some real time alone together… Technically part 2 to this fic but can be read as a stand alone. 1.8k WK, Unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, pussy eating, just a lil bit of spanking 18+MNDI

“What is this place?” Eric asks as his emerald eyes roam around the living area of the large penthouse. You turn toward him with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and a devious little smirk painted on your pretty lips.

“I used to work for the owners. Cleaned the place once a week. Suckers didn’t change the combination lock. It’s a vacation house and they only come here in the summer so we’ll be good.” You look up at this beautiful broken boy that you hardly know but already can’t imagine your life without. You had just run for miles, narrowly escaping the rehab facility and you both smelled like sweat, your hair was a mess, your pink sweatsuits and faces are both smudged with dirt but you’ve never wanted him more.

You and Eric fucked in probably every secret place possible of that building, always quickies in quiet, dark places. But knowing no one will bother you here and that you can truly enjoy him for the first time has your pussy clenching around nothing. You run your hands down his clothed chest while you stare into his eyes with your bottom lip secured between your teeth. He looks down at you through hooded eyes, holding you in that hypnotic soul reading gaze. It’s almost like he can read your mind.

“You want something, angel?” He cups your face in his large tattooed hand and his thumb traces the apple of your cheek, the side of your nose around your mouth before finally pulling your bottom lip from between your teeth with a pop. Eric runs his thumb across it, smearing your spit around. You dart your tongue out and run it along his digit before taking it into your mouth with a hum and it pulls a low groan from him. “Use your words. You know I’ll give you whatever you want.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb before sucking on it hard and pulling back so it falls from your mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck that tight little pussy?” Eric’s other hand comes up to wrap around your throat lightly as his eyes bore down into your own.

“Yeah, fucking ruin me.” Eric exhales deeply through his nose as he tightens his grip around your neck and pulls you forward to lock your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue darts into your mouth, intertwining with your own and he wraps one of his long arms around your waist, pulling you close. He stands there kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do for what could’ve been minutes or hours but you were so wrapped up in him you could hardly tell.

Eric pulls back enough to place sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your throat. His fingers grip onto the hem of your sweatshirt before pulling it over your head and tossing it behind him somewhere in the room. His lips brush against your skin again as he kisses and licks across your collar bones and down your chest. He sucks hard on the top of your boob, not stopping until he’s sure it’s left a mark before taking a nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it then switches to the other side, giving it the same treatment. He loops his arm around your waist tightly and uses his large foot to sweep your feet off the ground before lowering onto the plush carpet. Eric makes quick work of the rest of your clothes, taking off your shoes and sweats, leaving you in nothing but a thin pair of lace panties.

“Fucking look at you.” His eyes burn with the perfect mixture of desire and adoration. It makes your insides melt and has your panties getting impossibly wetter.

“You’re so beautiful.” Eric runs his hands down your body, stopping to grab your tits before continuing down. He caresses your stomach and leaves feather light touches along the band of your underwear then his large inked hands grip onto your thighs. He pulls them up and apart revealing the large wet spot in the white lace. “And so fucking wet for me.”

He runs his fingers along your clothed slit and presses slow circles into your clit. Eric grips onto your panties and you hardly have to miss his touch because the minute they’re off he’s gathering your wetness with his digits before thrusting two knuckle deep inside of you. A long drawn out moan slips from your lips as he curls his fingers up toward your sweet spot and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit.

“Oh, f- fuck.” Your eyes roll back and your back arches off the ground as you fall apart embarrassingly fast for him.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Come for me.” The pace of his fingers doesn’t let up until your pussy stops pulsing around them, he pulls them from inside you and brings them to your lips. You take them into your mouth and glide your tongue along every inch of them, sucking them clean. “Good girl, taste yourself.”

“I wanna see you.” You whine as you paw at his sweatshirt and Eric smirks down at you before reaching behind him to pull it over his head. He does the same with his shirt before standing up to kick off his shoes. He pushes his sweats and boxers down, letting his cock spring free as he towers above you like a god. This is the first time you’re seeing him fully naked and god he’s perfect. Tattoos on every inch of his skin, perfectly toned, you want to lick along the V-line leading down to his thick cock before taking it into your mouth and deep throating him until you’re choking on it.

“I know what you’re thinking, there will be plenty of time for you to be on your knees for me. But right now I need to be inside you.” Eric bends down and grabs onto your hips before manhandling you onto your feet and throwing you over his shoulder. You giggle as he marches toward the bedroom with you dangling over his back, his very perfect ass bouncing against your cheek with every step.

He throws you on your stomach onto the bed before landing a harsh smack on your ass that has you yelping and jolting forward. Eric gives the other cheek the same treatment before grabbing onto the fat of your ass and spreading your cheeks for him. You’re so wet you can hear your pussy lips come apart as he pulls you open and closed for him. He leans down and shoves his face into your pussy, running his tongue along your dripping folds.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck.” You whine and push your hips back into him when he slides his tongue into your pussy and starts to fuck you with it. His perfect nose brushes up against your asshole as he eats you like a man starved. Eric’s fingers find your clit and begin to run circles around it in time with the flicks of his tongue.

“You taste so sweet, fuck.” His words vibrate against your core and it has euphoria washing over you. You cum on his tongue hard as your fists desperately claw into the sheets and your toes curl. “That’s it, baby, give me your cum.” Eric runs his tongue from your clit to your ass, swirling your tight hole a few times. He gets back on his feet and grips onto your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the tip through your wetness before tapping your clit a few times and lining up with your entrance. He thrusts into you to the hilt with little resistance due to how wet you are for him. But no matter how many times inside he’s you, you think you’ll always feel that slight burn due to how thick and long his dick was. Eric grips onto your hips and starts to fuck into you with reckless abandon, the sound of skin smacking together and your wails practically bouncing off the walls.

“Fuck, Eric, it’s so good - it’s so fucking good.” Drool drips from your chin onto the bed beneath you as you lay there and let him fuck you for all your worth. His fingers lace through your hair and use his grip to pull your head back so far your front half is raised off the bed with your back against his sweaty chest. The air smells like sweat, musk, and sex and it only turns you on more. Little moans and whimpers leave your lips, having been accustomed to your sneaky rendezvous but that wasn’t going to cut it for him. His free hand grips onto your jaw and squishes your cheeks together.

“I wanna hear you scream for me.” Eric practically growls into your ear as he fucks you without mercy and it has a loud moan ripping through you. You scream his name over and over again like a prayer as white hot pleasure washes over your entire body. Your pussy clenches around him while you fall apart on his cock and it has him feeling closer to the edge himself. He bites down on your shoulder so hard you’re sure it’ll leave a mark before using his grip on your hair to shove your face into the mattress.

“So perfect, so tight, I’m going to film you up so good, fuck.” Eric’s cock twitches inside of you and his hands rest on either side of the mattress as he covers you with his body while he empties inside of you. He pants as he comes down from his high and nuzzles his face into your neck, practically crushing you with his body weight. You both lay there for a moment, a mess of sweat and cum. But you don’t even care. He feels so good. Being with him feels so perfect. Like all the wrongs in your life have lead you to this moment. After a bit Eric rolls off of you with a groan, his now soft cock slipping from inside you causing his huge load to drip down your thighs. He rolls onto his back and you turn on your side toward him, resting your hand on his chest so you can gaze up at him.

“I’ve never loved anyone before. But, I think I could love you.” You say it so quietly he can hardly hear you, but he does and it makes heat wash all over his body. No one has ever loved him. Not even his own mother.

“Yeah? I think I could love you too, Angel.” He gives you that smile that you so desperately wanted to see the first time you saw him glaring at one of the doctors back in the facility and it makes you melt.

“Yeah? Well we fucking stink. We need a bath.” You both start busting up laughing before he takes your face in his hand and kisses you gently, hoping you can feel all the promises he isn’t ready to say out loud through his lips.

Divider is by @saradika-graphics

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

[ma1dita]

luke castellan x iris!reader kinda based off of charlie's recent photoshoot

reader asks luke if he wants to be the subject of her first shoot with her first camera. he says yes, and long story short: he poses so slutty and reader calls him that and he's acting offended but likes it at the same time 🤭

luke castellan x gn!iris!reader

wc: 663

“Slut,” you cough. 

Luke almost misses it, too busy flexing for the camera as he stands atop the firepit like a modern Hercules. It’s almost criminal, the way his camp shirt is the slightest bit too tight on his biceps (you could wonder what they feed this boy but you sit next to him at mealtimes—this shouldn’t come as a surprise, really), and the sliver of tanned skin and happy trail that peeks out from the worn fabric when he stretches his arms over his head.

The clicks of your camera are in tune with his laughter, shuttering through the silence of the forest. He’d only do this for you after all—if any of the other campers saw him like this he’d fold into himself like the super hot but still awkward guy he is.

“Babe, you wanted this!” he chuckles, cheeks warming up and not because of the summer sun. Sweat trickles off his brow and it frames his face so perfectly you sigh loudly. It’s both a blessing and a curse that your boyfriend is catastrophically hot (literally too, Long Island humidity never treats him well).

“Yeah, but who let you look this damn good. Sheesh,” you mumble, snapping photos as fast as you can. The light filters through his hair and makes his cheeks glisten as you move him along to drape himself over a lawn chair. It’s almost too much, even for him, and he starts turning away until you tut, biting your lip and nodding when he readjusts the drawstring of his cargos.

“You’d make good money as a model baby,” you grin, touching his chin gently to the position you want him in, “we’ll be set for life once we get out of here.” Luke huffs, scratching at the nape of his neck and tugging at a dark curl which makes you gasp, “yes, yes, yes! Exactly like that!”

“Babe…” he laughs, slightly bashful as he reaches for your waist. He’s used to giving you compliments, tongue-in-cheek at the way you make him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. You’re a wonder yourself, speckled with sunlight and a golden grin—and if this is what it feels like to walk on clouds, he’ll let you practice taking pictures of him anytime you want.

There’s a rustle in the trees, making him jump up slightly, tugging you onto his lap with a yelp.

“Luke! You’re ruining the shot!”

He presses a kiss against your neck and smiles into your skin, “Got nervous. Can I see how they look?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you settle against him sideways, leaning over to show him the screen but— “Oh!”

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows furrow at the embarrassment that dances across your face and then you say, “I was clicking the wrong button. Sorry, can we take more?” The son of Hermes laughs with his whole body, shaking you up until you start laughing too.

“Only until the rest of this period. I swear Chris won’t ever let me hear the end of this if he sees me…” 

Luke gets to his feet and props himself against a tree, sweat dripping from his lip, and he drags a fistful of his shirt up to wipe it away. You’re staring at him shamelessly through the viewfinder, mouth agape at the sight of his toned abdomen.

“What a whore,” you mumble lowly, zooming into his chiseled frame.

He laughs again, throwing his head back as he walks toward you. No wonder his muscles look larger than life.

“Baby.”

“Hmm?” You mumble, eyes unfocused as he comes closer and nudges the camera away.

“You gotta turn the camera on.” 

An evil grin smiles across your face at his words, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, leaning up to him for a kiss, “Only if you take your shirt off.” He looks at you with a raised brow and shakes his head at your next words.

“What! It’s in the name of art!”

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

Can't Sleep (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Smut)

Short Summary: Ellie has been struggling to fall asleep due to her past trauma. But you might have just found something that could work! Without even being contious.

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut that includes somnophilia. Also includes a small mention of past trauma/ptsd

Words: 1379

(Credit to however the pictures belongs to, they’re not mine! I just found them on Pinterest like everyone on this fucking app does)

Ellie sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. Another night ruined. She truly didn’t understand why she kept trying when 99,9% of the nights would end up with her waking up at around 3 am and not be able to go back to sleep. Being used to this she would usually look around the dark room for about 15 minutes before getting up and spend the rest of the night watching some useless tv show while scolding herself for not being able to sleep this night either. Either you would wake up, glancing to your side and notice the bed being empty and thereafter walk down the squeaky stairs to see your girlfriend hunched down on the sofa. Or sometimes you didn’t even notice until your alarm went off, signaling you to wake up and get ready for work. Yeah, those days definitely left you feeling guilty……. You really felt bad for her, you do! If you could somehow give her your sleepiness, if just for a day every once in a while, you would 100% do it. Without a doubt! But unfortunately you can’t, which leaves you with only one option, supporting her as best as you can. You’ve went to the doctor, therapist, anyone who could potentially help her with her trauma, but to no use. The sleeping pills she got prescribed only left her feeling more sleepy, yet her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. At least not for more than an hour or so.

Ellie sifted her glance from the wooden ceiling to the sleeping figure beside her. You were currently facing her, allowing her to take in your beauty. Fuck, she had no idea how she got so lucky. If you asked Ellie she would DEFINITELY say you’re out of her league, but you assure her she’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of (and more). Her eyes trace over your peaceful face, your eyebrows slightly frowning, most likely due to a dream, your lashes lightly touching your under eyes, and your cute lips slightly pouting. Holy fuck she wanted to kiss you so badly. Her eyes continued down your neck, onto your décolletage that’s being highlighted by the moonlight before they stop at your…..chest. Being the summer time you always wore a spaghetti strapped crop top to bed, along with whatever underwear you used the day before. But the nights sure could be a little chilly.

One of your straps had fallen off your shoulder, allowing more of your boob to show then intentionally. Ellie tried not to look, but failed miserably. Knowing just how soft they feel in her hands she had to physically restrain herself from reaching out and touch them. Ellie continued to eye your exposed breast while letting her imagination wander free, not being aware of just how excited it got her until she, by reflex, pressed her thighs together and notice a wet patch. “Fuck” Ellie mumbled as the embarrassment came over her. She can’t get this fucking wet just from staring at your clothed boob! That’s the keyword “clothed”. Ellie bit her lip as she hesitated on “helping” the fallen strap to “accidentally” fall even lower down. Resulting in your boob hanging out free. Ellie let out a shaky breath when your harden nipple was bare for her eyes to see. Yep, definitely chilly.....

Even though this was far from the first time she's seen your naked breasts (living together for over four years leads to a lot of topless moments, sexual or not) she couldn't help but feel giggly like a school boy when she did. Her eyes took a quick glance at your face to make sure if she disturbed your sleep by her "action". But you continued to let out the peaceful breath that sometimes helped her succeed in falling asleep (if only for an hour). Taking in your unbothered expression Ellie got the courage to make her next move. She reached out her tatted arm and carefully placed her veiny hand on your exposed breast. She had to bite her lip to not moan at the contact with your smooth skin. But she soon drew it back, quickly, when you started to move. Her cold fingers had shocked you, and even though you're still in sleep, you let out a groan and rolled onto your back. But in your change of position your top had slid down even lower, resulting in both your boobs being free from the fabric.

Ellie´s eyes widened as she eyed not one, but both of your tits. She couldn't help herself. Shortly after she lowered herself and gave your right nipple a feather-light kiss. She groaned before going in harder. Her mind wouldn't let her think straight, too high on the taste of your skin. She continued to suck on your right nippled as she fundled with the other. The feeling was unreal. Without noticing it Ellie started to grind herself against your mattress, her body trying to find a way to release the pleasure she’s feeling. But it wouldn’t work. Ellie let out a frustrated whine at the lack of friction she got, nothing for her poor throbbing clit to attach to. She let go off your nipple, involuntarily, to solve her own “problem”. She lifted up your shared cover to see your bare legs. Ellie carefully lifted her own leg to strangled your nearest thigh. Just the pressure on her sensitive when she lowered herself onto you was enough to draw a moan. But she pulled her sleeping shorts to the side, exposing her wet pussy, before making sure to properly situate herself. Without losing a second she began to grind herself against your soft leg. The firmness she was looking for was found, and she had a hard time shutting up.

Even though she knew she couldn’t be so loud or she’ll wake you up her brain also didn’t want to focus on that. Just the pleasure. A few shaky breaths were leaking out as Ellie rested her head against your shoulder. Her juices soon covered more of your thigh than she thought. For a few seconds she felt embarrassed, paranoid you’d wake up to find her like this. Desperately humping your thigh like a dog. But that thought seem to have vanished from her head when she grabbed both your hips with her long slander fingers, holding on hard as she continued to grind her cunt hard and faster. “Fuuuuuck” Ellie pathetically whined “please, (y/n)………please fuck me”. Ellie grabbed one of your hands and brought it up to her mouth. She stuck out your index and middle finger before putting them in her mouth. Sucking and licking them like her life depended on it.

At one point Ellie couldn’t care enough to even try and keep quiet. She didn’t care if you woke up. In fact, she wanted you to wake up. Cause if you did maybe you’d help her. Letting out a deep groan your fingers fell out of her mouth, covered by her saliva. But Ellie quickly took a firm grip around said hand’s wrist and traced it down her body. When met with the hem of her long sleeved sleeping shirt she made sure to lead your hand underneath it and continued up until your fingertips are met with her hard nipple. Just the feeling of your skin on hers was incredible. Ellie let out another satisfied moan before she puts her hand on top of yours, helping you to palm her perky little tit beneath her shirt. Ellie buried her slightly sweaty forehead into the side of your neck. She tried to keep her eyes open, wanting to watch every single bounce your tits would do due to her intense pace, but the pleasure makes it hard not to let her eyelids drop completely.

Ellie’s eyes soon filled up with tears at the delicious feeling, but also the frustration of not getting enough. You knew her like the back of your hand. Every weakness, everything she liked and didn’t like, you knew it. She needs to wake you up. Ellie made sure to swallow all the spit that was threatening to spill out onto your neck before whining into your ear

“Please help me, baby? I can’t sleep”.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: I thought this would be A LOT shorter when I started to write it. I do really like making more blur-ish stories, but I clearly can’t do them. Cause I start off writing just the main act, but then I’m like “but wouldn’t it be cool if I added what the reader’s grandmother was like? And what her favorite subject in school was!😃😃”. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this anyways. Even though it’s longer than anticipated (that’s what she said).

[guess-my-next-obsession]

the alchemy | ii. the moment

pairing: no outbreak!dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter rating: Mature [18+ only, minors dni, dbf/secret relationship, age gap (joel is 34, reader is 24), reader is described as curvy & only has one parent--all else is open to interpretation (we are POC friendly over here okay!!), one mention of f!masturbation but it’s super brief]

summary: you go over to the miller house to spend the afternoon with sarah, only to find that she's spending the summer with her mom. when joel insists you stay, things get flirty and then awkward and then flirty and then what the fuck.

wc: 3.6k

the masterlist | next chapter

Sarah had begged you to come over to their house next door to watch her at the pool, given that Joel was busy upstairs renovating his master bathroom with his younger brother, Tommy, and you were more than happy to oblige her request. Armed with a book, sunscreen, and a bag of chips, you made your way over and waited on the front porch for one of the Millers to answer. 

Luck seemed to evade you—or perhaps shine down on you, depending on how you wanted to look at it—as it was Joel who answered the door. He looked as good as ever in a paint-stained white t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, his hair damp with sweat and curling at the nape of his neck. His gaze traveled up and down your body, taking in the relatively modest one-piece swimsuit and unbuttoned denim shorts you’d chosen for today’s activities with something one could only perceive as appreciation. 

“Hey,” you managed, offering him a pathetic excuse of a smile. “Sarah invited me over to swim.”

“Oh,” he said, brows lacing together. “She didn’t text you?”

You shook your head, your confusion mimicking his own. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that her mom called last night and asked her if she wanted to spend the rest of the summer with her, so she’s gone now until the middle of August,” he said, his tone giving away that he wasn’t exactly pleased by the last minute invitation. “But you’re, uh, still welcome to use the pool if you want. I’m just upstairs workin’ on the bathroom.”

He didn’t say anything about Tommy, which could only mean he was the one who was dropping Sarah off at her mom’s. And that meant that Joel was the only one around today, your dad off visiting his girlfriend in San Antonio for the rest of the weekend. 

Was it really a smart idea to spend your day around the one man you’d found yourself fantasizing about in the last year? Probably not. But it beat sitting at home sorting through your piles of keep or donate. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “If that’s alright with you. I wouldn’t want to impose or anything.”

“No, you’re fine,” he assured, stepping aside to let you in. You held your breath as you walked past him, convinced that if you caught another whiff of that warm cologne he always wore, you’d be right back under the spell that caused you to act so awkward last night at dinner. “Did you have lunch yet? I was thinkin’ of grillin’ some burgers.” 

He followed closely behind you as you made your way through the living room towards the kitchen. 

“No, but that sounds good,” you said, setting your things on the kitchen island as he walked over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. 

“You want one?” he asked, holding up an extra bottle. 

“Freshman and sophomore year ruined beer for me,” you admitted with a laugh, bringing a slight smile to his face. “Water’s fine.”

“Alright,” he said through a chuckle, grabbing you a bottle and passing it over to you before taking out some thawed burger patties. “How’s it being a college graduate?”

“Nice,” you said, shrugging. “Don’t have to worry about deadlines or finals anymore. But…I don’t know. I guess it’s just a little hard moving back in after living on my own for so long.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he said, cutting through the plastic wrapping of the pack of meat. “But your dad seems happy to have you back.”

“Yeah, he’s being a mother hen about it,” you said, chuckling. “I had to tell him it was fine to go visit his girlfriend about twenty times before he finally decided to go.”

“Oh, is that where he’s off to? I saw him leavin’ earlier this mornin’.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a swig from your water. “Off to visit Vic. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, couple times.” He glanced up at you as he washed his hands in the island sink, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Have you met her?”

“No,” you replied, scrunching your face up. “And I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. It’s only been a few years since my mom passed, and well…I just worry that I might be a bitch to her for no reason. Or worse, I’ll find a reason.” 

“She’s alright,” he assured. “A little quiet, a little conservative for my taste, but she ain’t the evil stepmom type from what I’ve seen.”

“I think I’m a little old to call her my stepmom,” you said, cringing at the idea. 

“And how old are you?” he asked, busying himself with seasoning the patties. “I’ve never really asked.”

“Twenty-four. Turning twenty-five in December,” you said, fighting off the butterflies that frenzied in your stomach at the thought of him finally realizing you were only a decade younger than him and all the possibilities that might open up. 

“You started school late then.”

“Yeah, took two years off to work and save money so I didn’t have to take out as many loans.”

“Smart girl,” he praised, and god, did you want to hear more of it from him. “I’ve been savin’ for Sarah’s school since she was a baby, and I still think it won’t be enough.”

“She’s a smart kid, she’ll get scholarships,” you assured, and it was true. Sarah was by far the brightest kid you’d ever met, not to mention that she’d been playing the cello since she was in first grade. She’d have no problem financing her education, but it was sweet that Joel cared so much about investing in her savings just in case. “Did you, uh, go to school?”

“No, I thought about it, but I was never the studious type,” he confessed with a smile. “I liked math and readin’ and all that, but I hated the homework part. Figured all that was important in college, so I just decided to get my carpentry license instead. Tommy went to school, though, after doin’ his four years in the army.”

“Yeah, I think we talked about it once. Hospitality, right?” 

“Yeah.” Joel smiled, a look of surprise on his face as he met your eyes again. “I didn’t know you and Tommy ever talked like that.”

You’d done more than talk to his younger brother, going so far as agreeing to a date with him last summer, but nobody knew about that little secret. It didn’t end in anything more than a kiss goodnight, though, so both of you agreed it would be something kept between just the two of you. 

“Yeah, we’re friends,” you said instead, shrugging your shoulders. Joel arched an eyebrow at you in question, but you only smiled at him, daring him to prod. 

“Tommy isn’t known for havin’ a ton of female friends,” he said, moving back to his sink to wash the seasoning off his hands. “Or just friends, should I say.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, amused by his questioning. If you were a more delusional woman, you might’ve thought his tone carried a hint of jealousy to it, but unfortunately, you were a bit too realistic to buy into that. 

“It would make sense,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned back against the counter, his beer in hand. “He ain’t that much older than you.”

“Five years,” you added, smirking into the lip of your water bottle. “I’ve been known to date older men than that.”

“Have you now?” He laughed, swallowing it down with a sip of his beer. “Your dad know that?”

“We don’t really talk about my dating life,” you chuckled. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Joel’s smirk was devious, and you had no idea how you’d managed to start flirting or what gave you the confidence. But here you were, trying not to let your hopes get too high that maybe, just maybe, he’d flirt back. 

Sighing through his amusement, he shook his head and picked up the back of burger patties without saying another word, leaving you to follow after him as he step out onto the patio. 

You expected some sort of verbal confirmation that he was interested, or that he wasn’t, but instead all you received was silence an a permanent look of amusement as he got the grill started. 

And silence just wouldn’t do. 

“Where is Tommy? I expected he’d be here helping you out,” you said, hoping to coax more conversation out of him. 

“Droppin’ Sarah off,” he said, not so much as glancing your way. Your mouth twisted with disappointment. It seemed like he was so close to playing along with your flirtation in the kitchen, but now he was back to being his usual closed off and sidetracked self. “Don’t worry, your boyfriend’s gonna be back soon.”

You let out a gasp of a chuckle, shocked by his teasing. “Boyfriend?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, glancing up at you from over the hood of the grill with a half-smirk. “And don’t you try and deny it. He’s been askin’ about you since we heard you were movin’ back.”

Well, that was mildly surprising. You were under the impression that he was as disinterested in you as you were in him. After all, he wasn’t really the type you went for. You liked your men quiet and reserved, at least outside of the bedroom, and Tommy was the exact opposite. He was talkative, outgoing, and at times a bit too much. 

“I promise you, Tommy is not my boyfriend,” you said, laughing. 

“Well, seems like he’s interested, then,” he said, setting the patties down on the grill. “Might wanna give it a shot.”

Was this his way of letting you know that he, himself, wasn’t interested? If so, you wished he’d just come out and say it rather than trying to push you off on his younger brother. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.” 

Deciding to let the conversation end there out of fear that he might continue trying to play matchmaker, you finally decided to take a dip in the pool. Sliding out of your shorts, you briefly cursed yourself for choosing a more modest swimsuit today rather than the string bikinis you’d learned to love wearing through years of teaching yourself to be comfortable with your body and all of its imperfections—or what society deemed to be imperfections, at least. Instead, you were wearing something that covered all the bits you hoped to tempt Joel with, and judging by his lack of interest, your one-piece seemed to serve its purpose. 

You shoved Joel out of your mind as you stepped into the perfectly lukewarm water, keeping your back turned to him. You didn’t turn around and chance a look his way until you were submerged up to your neck, but even then, he still wasn’t paying any attention to you. 

It seemed that whatever had sparked that brief interest back in the kitchen had vanished completely, for better or worse. For the better because if your father ever found out you were fooling around with a man ten years your senior, he’d likely have nothing nice to say. And for worse because despite all the trouble it would cause, you still wanted Joel—wanted to flirt with him, wanted to touch him, and wanted to know him beyond what little he’d shown you over the course of the last four summers. 

When Tommy arrived, the burgers had just come off the grill. You were wrapped in your towel, sitting at the patio table across from a very quiet Joel. Tommy, of course, shooed away what lingering awkwardness remained between the two of you with his overt friendliness, choosing to sit beside you and fix his attention on you alone. 

“How’s it being back home?” he asked, as everyone seemed to. 

“S’alright,” you said, taking a bite out of a fry. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

“Been alright,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a sip of his beer. “Workin’ mostly, but you know me. I make time for extracurricular activities when I can.” 

You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, a smile finding its way onto your face despite your lack of interest in playing along. 

“You have any extracurricular activities goin’ on right now?” he asked, not at all subtle. 

“Not the kind you’re talking about,” you said, shooting him a look. “And I’m not looking for any, either.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, giving you a playful look of disapproval. “Now’s the time.”

“And who do you suggest I fill that time with?” you asked, your tone teetering the line of flirty. You weren’t sure why you were doing it, either, except out of the delusional hope that if you managed to make Joel jealous, perhaps he’d finally be lured into your trap. 

“There’s always me,” he replied, resting his arm over the back of your chair. 

“That’s my cue,” Joel muttered, grabbing his plate from the table. Your eyes shot to his, a pathetic look of disappointment in them as you watched him get up and walk inside. 

So much for jealousy, then. 

“Hey.” You turned in your seat to face Tommy, biting at your lip. “Did you say anything to Joel about our date last summer?”

Tommy smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “I might’ve said somethin’. Why? Should I not have?”

“I just thought we were gonna keep it between us like we said.” You weren’t sure why it angered you so much that he’d gone and done the exact opposite behind your back, but you had an inkling that it had something to do with the fact that now that Joel was aware of your very brief history with his younger brother, he likely wouldn’t try anything with you. 

“It ain’t a big deal,” Tommy said, his brows lacing together. “Unless you wanted it kept a secret.”

“Obviously,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes before standing up and collecting your plate. Tommy’s hand was gentle as it touched your arm, stopping you from walking off. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean to cross a line,” he said, his eyes rounding. “I just didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”

“It’s fine,” you said. Anything to get him to drop it. “No worries.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s fine,” he said. “Looks like you’re pissed at me.”

“I am, but like I said, it’s fine.” You moved past him, his arm slipping out of reach as you opened the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen. 

Joel was standing there at the sink scrubbing his plate, his back turned to you. You swallowed the dryness in your throat and approached him, earning a glance. 

“I can wash mine,” you offered. Joel rolled his eyes at that and gently grabbed the plate from your hand. “You don’t have to—“

“S’fine,” he grumbled, turning back to the sink. 

“Did I manage to piss you off somehow?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and frowning. “Why would I be pissed off at you just because you’re sneakin’ around with Tommy?” 

You chuckled, the sound not one of amusement but realization. 

He was jealous. 

And he was sulking over it. 

“I told you, Tommy and I aren’t sneaking around,” you said, trying not to laugh. “We went on one date last summer, but he’s not—it wasn’t a match. That’s the end of that.” 

Joel shut the tap off and moved over to the stove to grab a dish cloth so he could wipe his hands dry. He kept his head down, watching his hands, but you could tell he was still stewing from the clench of his jaw. 

“Joel, I don’t know why you’re pissed about the prospect of Tommy and I, so why don’t you tell me?” you said, stepping closer to him until his warm scent hit you. Joel lifted his eyes to look at you, his head still shaking. 

“I don’t know either,” he confessed, his voice soft and whispered. “Just am.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at him and turned to go back outside so that you could grab your things and head home, but Joel’s warm hand on your arm caught you before you could even take a step. Your breath hitched as he pulled you close, his hand slipping up your arm as if to cradle your cheek. You waited for the warmth of his palm to touch you again, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening behind you forced him to take a step backwards as Tommy walked in. 

“You’re still here,” he said, oblivious to the moment he ruined. “Thought I pissed you off enough that you left without your stuff.”

You cleared your throat and turned to him, shaking your head. “No, but I was just about to.”

Joel remained a few feet away, watching the two of you in tense silence, but Tommy didn’t seem to think twice about it. Instead, he gestured for you to follow him out back with a nudge of his head. You took a breath, glancing at Joel before deciding that either way, you needed to grab your shit and go before things got even more awkward. 

“Listen,” Tommy started as he slid the patio door shut behind you. “I didn’t mean to piss you off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Tommy,” you sighed, gathering your things in your arms. 

“No, I should’ve kept it between us like we said we would,” he said, stepping closer to you as you stood by the patio table. “I know I went and pissed you off, and I know you probably don’t wanna give me another chance, but—“

“I’m not looking to date anybody right now, Tommy,” you said, half annoyed and half flustered by whatever it was Joel was about to do before he was interrupted. “But we’re cool. There’s no hard feelings, I just…I’m only interested in being friends right now.”

Tommy swallowed the defeat with a nod, his lips pursing just slightly. “Alright. If you ever change your mind, though.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, though you knew it would take a miracle for you to ever go down that path again. Especially when Joel was finally starting to pay you some attention. “I should go.”

“Can I walk you home?” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Right next door, remember?”

“Right, sorry,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah,” you gave him a gentle pat on the arm as you passed him to head back into the house, somehow feeling guilty for rejecting him even when you knew you had every right to do so. Still, you were empathetic enough to remember the sting of your own rejected advances and hated the thought of him feeling that way. But your feelings for him, or lack thereof, couldn’t be helped. 

You wanted Joel, and Joel alone. 

Even if it was delusional, even if it was unrequited. 

Joel was nowhere to be found when you entered the kitchen, nor was he in the living room. It seemed he’d retreated back upstairs, and though you were familiar enough with the house, it felt like an intrusion to seek him out when it was clear that he wanted to be alone. So you’d save your feelings for another day, perhaps one where his brother wasn’t around to interrupt the two of you. 

You walked yourself back to your house in the late afternoon sun, your bathing suit and shorts already half-dry by the time you shed them in the bathroom before taking a much needed shower. You were only mildly ashamed to admit you’d used the memory of his warm hand on your skin to get off in there, but it never took much in that regard, at least when the fantasy of Joel was involved. 

By the time you got changed into some pajama pants and an old t-shirt, you were ready to call it a night. You opened your phone to start your routine of mindlessly scrolling until your eyes got too tired to stay open, but were surprised to find a missed text notification from Joel on your lock screen. You opened the message with bated breath and shaking hands. 

Joel Miller: Sorry about today. If you want to talk about it tomorrow, feel free to stop by. Hope you have a good rest of your night. 

Impatience gnawed at you, the urge to get up and drag your ass over there right now so that you could tell him there was no need for him to apologize hitting you hard. But you managed to reel yourself in, choosing to reply to him via text instead. 

Don’t you dare apologize. We can talk about it tomorrow. Have a good night, Joel. 🤍

You waited an agonizing few minutes for a response, half ready to die with embarrassment over your choice of words, your decision to add a heart emoji, the fact that you even responded at all, but thankfully, his reply came in before you had the chance to worsen things by sending a second text. 

Joel Miller: I’m just sorry I didn’t get the chance to kiss you like I wanted to. 

Well, shit.

[afterglowkatie]

more than christmas | a.k.

alanna kennedy x reader | 1.4k | ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’

❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆

You felt a little tingle in the back of your throat a few days before you were set to fly out. A slight ache in your head and the rest of your body the next day that followed. But you tried to ignore it, hoping that you weren’t really about to get sick right before Christmas.

You and Alanna had planned to spend Christmas with her family this year in Australia. You always looked forward to having a summer Christmas, even if it still felt weird to you to celebrate Christmas in anything other than winter and snow. 

A slight tingle and a dull ache was easy enough to hide from Alanna, knowing if she knew you weren’t feeling the best, you’d be seeing an overprotective girlfriend that wouldn’t stop asking if you were sure you were alright a million times before your trip. Not that you hated it, but you didn’t want to ruin your Christmas and holiday plans, you knew how much Alanna had been looking forward to going home and seeing her family. It was something you knew she really needed lately.

‘What do you mean you’re not packed yet?’ You stifled a small cough, noticing how dry and sore your throat was.

‘Babe, chill, there’s still plenty of time,’ Alanna wrapped her arms around you from behind, pulling you into her, mostly trying to stop you from pacing around the house stressing. You melted in her embrace, the comfort of her arms doing a lot to ease the ache that kept spreading over your tired body, ‘Plus we won’t need much anyway,’ Alanna whispered against your neck, pressing a kiss against it. 

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Alanna’s arms away from you despite your body protesting, ‘Yeah we all know the real reason you invite me to spend summer in Australia,’ 

Alanna held her hands up in defence, ‘What can I say? I’m a simple woman,’ She smirked, leaning back against the doorframe, arms crossed against her chest while she looked at you. Imagining how you’d look in a few days time, tanning on the beach.

The day of your flight to Australia, you’d barely slept, being kept away with the ache that had tripled in intensity in the last day. You couldn’t find a way to get comfy, tossing and turning until your alarm went off and you realised you hadn’t actually slept at all. 

You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was a way to not feel so much pain, a way for your throat to not feel like it’s closing up. When Alanna woke up, she thought you’d turned the heating up too much with how much warmth was radiating. Though she properly woke up when she turned over, lazily laying an arm over your stomach, realising the heat she was feeling was radiating off of your skin.

‘Baby?’ Alanna leaned up on her elbow to look at you, her voice soft and still laced with sleep. You had your eyes closed, your head hurt too much to keep them open, ‘Are you feeling okay?’ She could tell you weren’t really asleep.

Internally you groaned, opening your eyes looking at Alanna. You did your best to smile, though it did nothing to alleviate your girlfriend’s concerns. Your eyes didn’t have the same sparkle they normally did, your smile was barely one if you could even count it as a smile and the biggest giveaway was that you weren’t already out the door talking her ear off about everything you were going to do when you landed on the other side of the world.

Everyone who knows you, knows how much you love your trips to Australia. So much you’d even considered moving over there one day. Retirement in Australia definitely, with Alanna, definitely sounded like a nice idea. So the minute you weren’t yapping about the trip and already halfway out the door before Alanna had the chance to wake up, she knew you weren’t feeling well. Getting you to admit to not feeling good is always a whole other story.

‘Yeah, I’m fine Lani,’ You inwardly cursed your voice for sounding so broken and small, the opposite to how you normally would sound, ‘Come on, there’s a plane waiting to take me to a place I can devour my weight in chilli eggs and soak up three times the sun we’d ever get to see here,’ You tried to laugh but stopped when you realised it’d send you into a coughing fit, not something you needed when you were trying to convince Alanna you were fine.

Trying to convince her was short lived when you willed your body to move, despite it protesting any movement, you sat up seemingly too fast. Your head span, ears rang and your legs and arms were shaking. Alanna was quick to sit up and get to you so you didn’t fall on the ground. Wrapping her arm around you, moving to sit more behind you.

Alanna had a permanent frown etched on her face, only growing in her concern for you. You held your head in your hands, keeping your eyes covered, avoiding any light. Alanna had slowly but successfully moved you back to laying down, making sure to avoid layering you in the blankets since you were still radiating enough heat to heat up your bedroom.

Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back gently, watching you relax into her touch before tensing as a new wave of pain surged through your body. Her eyes flickering between you and your suitcases that were in the corner of your room, packed and waiting for your flight, ‘I’ll be back in a minute my love,’ You let out a little hum to acknowledge the defender.

Alanna did what any good girlfriend would’ve done, even if she knew you would hate it not liking when your plans don't happen because of you. But if she’d let you decide then despite feeling like you’d been hit by a truck, you’d both still be on your way to the airport right now. She cancelled your flights, called her family and promised to find another time to visit. Ultimately understanding the last thing anyone wanted you to do was sit through like 30+ hours of travelling.

‘I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas,’ You were slightly more alive than before, laying against Alanna’s chest, her arms wrapped around you were better than any kind of blanket you could’ve been wrapped up in.

‘You didn’t ruin anything,’ Alanna looked down at you, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. When you looked like you were going to protest and disagree with her words she continued, ‘Being with you, making sure you’re okay, matters more to me than any Christmas plans we had,’ You didn’t have the energy to fight Alanna, instead letting her words drape over you like a comforting blanket. You hated when things didn’t go right, but you hated the thought of disappointing Alanna more.

You were still looking in the way of the tv, the quiet sounds of the movie filling the silence of your apartment. Alanna was still looking at you, a small smile on her lips, a softness in her eyes that she only held whenever she looked at you. Her hand found her way to your head, gently playing with your hair, knowing these little things did more to comfort you than anything else. She couldn’t help herself but hold you a little bit tighter against her and press more kisses to the top of your head, letting her lips linger.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, not from your slight fever, but knowing your girlfriend’s eyes were still on you. Even years later you still felt the swarm of butterflies in your stomach whenever Alanna’s gaze was purely on you. You both still felt the same way you did when you’d first met each other when Alanna moved to City.

You looked up at your girlfriend, your smile was bashful when you locked eyes with her, ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’ Even more years could pass by and you know Alanna would still look at you like that, the thought that made you even more flustered under her gaze.

Alanna’s hands still gently comforting your aching body, she brushed a few strands of hair that had stuck to the light sweat that covered your skin from your small fever, her eyes never leaving yours, ‘Well, you are my world and the most important person to me, my love,’

[taestefully-in-luv]

Summer Heat

Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.

Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why did we break up?”

Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.

“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.

You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is… 

“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”

“Why not?” His voice is teasing.

You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”

Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.” 

“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”

“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?” 

“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”

Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”

Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”

“So why did we break up?”

He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.

“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”

Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”

“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”

“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. “Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them. 

You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination. 

Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin. 

“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”

Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”

You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”

It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.

Are you over it?

You kind of have to be.

“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you. 

You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”

“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”

“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”

“You’ve always loved teasing me.”

“Maybe I still do?”

“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”

“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again. 

“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”

You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”

“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”

You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.

He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.

You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty. 

“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”

Another kiss. “No.”

You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.

“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”

“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”

Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”

“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”

“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”

“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”

“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”

You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.” 

You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.

“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”

“Like what?”

“Your mouth—”

You hit his thigh again.

He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”

“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”

“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”

“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”

“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”

“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”

“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”

“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”

“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”

“I wasn’t.” You weren’t. 

Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.

“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.” 

“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”

“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”

He’s right.

“No.” 

“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”

You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask.

Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised. 

“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”

Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”

“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right. 

“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”

“How convenient.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” 

You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.

You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex. 

“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.” 

“Still?” 

“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”

You feel a sharp poke in your heart. 

“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”

And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years. 

“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”

You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”

“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”

“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”

Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”

You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”

“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”

“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now. 

“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”

“Then kiss me now, if you want.”

You’re older now. More mature now.

Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.

Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love. 

He mirrors you, eyes still unsure. 

“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”

Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”

You nod.

The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.

He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later. 

Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.

You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more. 

His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder. 

You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”

“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”

“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I don’t care.” 

“I care.”

His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”

You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”

And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.

“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness. 

“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”

His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.

His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.

“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.

You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. 

“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”

His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”

Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too. 

You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself. 

You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated. 

Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment. 

“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.

“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you. 

He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat. 

You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum. 

Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.

“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”

“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”

“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good. 

“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer. 

“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you. 

Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it. 

“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.

“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”

He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”

[qrrieterisunnq]

his biggest secrete - Quinn Hughes

quinn!hughes x zegras!reader Summary: You are at the lake house with the Hughes brothers, Trevor, and their friends. One night you all decide to go to the club. Thinking this will be another great night with boys until some guy ruins it revealing your secret. request: yes/no A/N: okay, finally there is the fic I published twice by mistake. I hope you'll like it, i know nobody probably read my talks so, just enjoy it. I'm so sorry it took so long, I didn't have much time. likes are good, reblogs are better <3 gif not mine word count: 5,59K warning(s): yelling, angry Trevor, crying, angst, mad Quinn, hitting, fights, fluff Quinn, unedited, mentions of rape, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut

masterlist | wip's

Tapping lightly at the steering wheel of your car to the rhythm of the song playing on the radio, you shift the gear, to make your car drive faster.

You’ve been driving for half an hour now, enjoying the breathtaking nature of Michigan. You spent every summer, for the past twenty years, in the lake house with the Hughes brothers. Your parents were great friends with Ellen and Jim, so they took you there every time. You have here even your room since you spent there all summer.

With a smile, you turn to the street where is their house located. As you reached the house, you parked your car on the driveway. As soon as you step out of the car, a pair of hands wrapped around your waist spinning you.

You squeal from surprise laughing, just like the person holding you. As soon as your feet touch the ground again, you turn around only to meet the youngest brother, Luke.

“Lukey!” pulling him in a hug, you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his scent.

“Hey Buba!” he whispers in your hair, planting there kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Lu.” you pull away only to be pulled in another hug, this time from Jack, who spins with you and places you on the hood of your car, laughing.

“Hey, little Zegras,” he smiles brightly kissing your cheek. “How was your ride?” he steps between your legs, while Luke is sitting next to you.

“Great, but the flight was terrible,” you chuckle. They both look at you, signaling for you to continue. “I was sitting in the seat at the aisle right, and next to me was some guy, who was, all the flight, looking at me and touching me. It was creepy.” you sigh looking them in the eyes.

“You should tell that to the flight attendant,” Luke says, anger in his voice.

“Yeah, but you know I don’t like talking to people I don’t know.” you shrug my shoulders.

Before Jack can say anything Trevor shoves him away, and pulls you in a hug. You wrap your legs around his waist, hugging him tightly. One of his hands is resting on your back and the other is on your head, pulling you tightly to him.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, sis,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your head, his lips staying there for a while. You snuck your head closer to his neck tear sliding down your cheek.

“I missed you too, Trev. So much,” you whisper tilting your head to look him in the eyes. Smile covering his lips his eyes shining with joy and happiness. He bends down pressing a soft kiss to your lips as he always does. You lean your forehead on him, enjoying the moment with your brother whom you haven’t seen in almost a year.

“Okay, get down, you getting heavy,” he whines letting go of your head and back, you slide down on the ground, his hand swinging around your shoulders hugging you again.

You breathe in his scent, reminding you of the home. The smell of his perfume and his masculinity.

“Oh, look who finally honored us with their presence,” a deep voice comes from the house door. We all turn to the sound of his voice.

And there he really is the one and only guy who owns my heart. Smirk playing on his lips, his hair messy as it always is, your hand aching to run through these curls.

A smile immediately forms on your lips as you make your way to him, trying to be as casual as possible so your brother and the boys don’t get any suspicions.

As soon as you’re in front of him, you’re pulled into his warm presence, your face dug into his chest feeling his heart racing quickly. You titled your head resting it in the crock of his neck, placing here small kiss, as you made sure no one saw it.

“I missed you, love, it’s been the longest week in my life and I’m not counting the roadies,” he whispered making me chuckle.

“I missed you too Q. I love you,” you whisper so no one hears us.

“I love you too.” he smiles before he pulls away, so guys don’t get suspicious.

“Hey Quinn, leave her alone, it’s our time with her, you have her in Vancouver all to yourselves, so let her enjoy her time with us,” Luke growls at him playfully pulling you away from him.

“Yeah, but she’s on the other side of the town, so I get to see her once in week.” he protests pulling you closer. The funny thing is that you have seen each other every single day since you lived together. You, well Quinn, bought an apartment in the middle of the town so you have it close to college and he to the training, but of course guys don’t know about it.

“And we see her only two months in a year and the few games we play against you or near Vancouver,” Jack says this time earning a grimace from Quinn.

“Okay, okay, I think I’ll take a nap after the flight and then we can go on the lake, hmm?” you raise an eyebrow at them with a smile on your face.

It’s amazing to see your family again. You missed them during the whole season.

They all nod, taking care of your luggage, as you make your way to your room.

“You can place them there in the corner,” you point at the place next to you table. You'll unpack it later, you're not in the mood to do it.

You pop down on the bed, bouncing on it slightly. When all your luggage is in place, boys stand in front of you with smiles on their faces.

“What?” you laugh looking at them confused.

“Nothing,” they say at the same time. Trev bends down kissing your forehead.

“Take a nap, come to us when you wake up, okay.” he smiles down at you.

“I sure will.” you laugh. As soon as they leave you get out off the bed, taking out clothes to change into. You take off your shirt and bra, only to change into your blue bikini and Trevor’s long shirt. You slip off your shorts and panties, changing into the same bikini panties.

With a smile on my lips, you lay down under the blanket. You open your phone and send a quick text to Quinn before you drift to sleep.

Dove - come to me, make sure guys don’t get suspicious. I’m waiting.💖😏

In a few minutes, strong arms sneak around your waist pulling you into their hard hot chest. You hummed in comfort pressing your ass in their groin, knowing very well, that the person behind you is Quinn.

“Hi, my little dove,” he whispered in your ear, planting small kisses down your neck.

“Hey, Quinny,” you mumble, a smile playing on your lips.

— — — — — — —

“Y/n! Get your big ass in here!!” Trevor shouts from the living room. You’re still in your room, getting ready for today’s night. They made up their minds you have to go to the bar today, so right now, you’re standing in front of your mirror putting on your lip gloss.

Muffled voices from the living room, before your doors open, revealing your hot-ass-boyfriend standing there in a white button-up shirt and grey pants. The first three buttons on his shirt are undone revealing his collarbones.

You smile at him through the mirror, while he’s checking you out.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.” you tease him, swaying your hips seductively.

“You look stunning, my little dove,” he whispered.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself,” you smirk at him. Placing the lip gloss on your table, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you for a quick kiss.

“We have to go, baby. Guys are impatient,” he smirks, placing a soft kiss on your lips. With a smile, you take your phone and purse, where you will in a matter of minutes carry all of their phones.

“Finally!” Jack exclaims. “What took you so long?”

“How do you think I turn myself into this? It takes some time to look like this,” you say in a ‘duh’ tone, making them chuckle. You look at Trevor whose eyes are already on you, his brows furrowed together. “What?” you look at him with confusion written all over your face.

“Nothing, but you could take longer dress.” he points out. You are wearing a black long-sleeved spaghetti dress that ends in the middle of your tights, showing your medusa tattoo.

“Trevor,” you sigh, pulling the dress over the tattoo. “I’m trying to forget about it. It doesn’t help me that you remind me about it.” you swallow hard looking down at your tattoo.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

“Fine, end of your siblings’ love! We have a party to attend!” Luke yells, changing the topic of our conversation.

“Who’s driving?” you look around. Your eyes linger on your hot-ass boyfriend who is already looking at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Me, I won’t drink, I’m not in the mood, besides, someone has to take care of these two.” he points at Jack and Luke, who look at him offended.

“Hey, what are you talking about?” Luke looks at him offended.

“You know exactly, what he’s talking about,” you cock your brow at him. He sticks his tongue out.

“Okay! I think it’s time to take off.” Quinn sighs pushing you out of the house.

As soon as you are out, Trevor runs to Quinn’s car, standing next to the passenger doors, already holding the handle.

“No,” Q shakes his head when he sees what is Trevor up to. “You’re sitting in the back with these two. That’s y/n’s seat,” he says shoving him away and opening the door for me.

Your cheeks reddening at his gesture. You sit in, sending a smirk to Trevor.

“Bitch.” he mouths at you. You love it when Trevor is trying to be mean to you.

“Ass.” you mouth back, grinning. Jack and Luke are already sitting in the back, bickering over something. Trevor sits behind you, kicking in your seat like a kid. Quinn sits down behind the steering wheel, starting the engine.

With a smile, you connect your phone with the car, playing your summer playlist, you made two years ago when you and Luke were bored.

After ten minutes, you are at the place. Killing the engine, Quinn steps out, just like the three in the back seat. You stay in the car for a while to reapply your lip gloss. When you’re done, and ready to get out, the doors open, revealing a large hand. You look up, your eyes meeting with big blue eyes, that belong to your lovely man. You smile at him, placing your hand in his, letting him help you get out of the car.

You look around realizing, the boys are already inside the bar, so it doesn’t surprise you, when his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you to him.

“Hi.” you grin at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hi,” he smiles pulling you even closer. “You look stunning, little dove.” you smile up at him, your fingers playing with the hair on his neck.

“Thank you, you look good too, but we shouldn’t be doing this, someone sees us, and my brother will find out, just like yours.” You sigh but pull him closer to you to rest your forehead on his.

“I know, love, but I need to kiss you. I don’t know if I’m able to keep you as a secret anymore. I want the whole world to know you’re my fucking woman. No one else’s.” he whispers, nudging his nose in yours.

“Can you wait till the weekend? I want some time with you. To enjoy the adrenalin we have when we sneak around.” you grin at him, as your lips graze his in slow motions while you talk.

“I think I can do that,” he smiles against your lips, giving it a quick peck, before he steps aside. You two make your way in the bar.

You look around, catching a glimpse of Luke’s hair in the box near you. You nudged Quinn, pointing to the place where they are. He nods his head, his hand making its way to my lower back as he leads us to them.

“What took you so long?” Trevor eyes us, his brows furrowed in sharp v. His eyes land on Quinn’s hand, which is still placed on my lower back.

You act like nothing’s going on when our eyes meet and answer his question. “I was reapplying my lipgloss and Quinn waited on me.” you shrug sitting down next to him, Quinn takes a seat opposite to you, at the end of the bench next to Jack.

“Okay. What do you want for drinking?” Trevor looks at you after a while. Jack and Quinn are bickering over something, Luke is on his phone texting with someone.

“I don’t know. Margarita or Tequila sunrise.”

“Okay, I’m going to get it. Guys, you wanna beer?” Trev shouts, Jack and Luke nod sending him a thankful smile. “You wanna water or a non-alcoholic drink?”

“You can get me a mojito,” Quinn says after a short while. Trev nods nudging your legs so he can get out. You let him out, then sat more in the middle of the bench.

Even though you’re planning on dancing later you want your drink first.

You can feel Quinn’s eyes on you as you scroll on your Instagram. After a while, you raise your gaze to meet his beautiful blue eyes.

“What?” you cock your brow at him. He shakes his head biting his lower lips as his eyes travel down your neck as they land on your cleavage.

“Stop it.” you mouth. There is no point in yelling, the music is so loud he wouldn’t hear, and no one would.

His smirk grows wide but disappears when Trevor appears next to you, you’re in front of you.

“Thank you.” You shout in his ear so he hears it. He nods his head, kissing your temple.

You sip from your drink, by the taste figuring out it’s Tequila sunrise. You let out a groan enjoying the taste.

When you’re halfway down the cocktail you stand up, the attention of the boys on you.

“I’m going to dance,” you yell in Trevor’s ear. He nods and lets you out. You make your way to the dance floor, swaying your hips on the way there.

You sway your hips to the beat of the music, your hands trailing down your sides, enjoying the freedom you have, the loud music vibrating through your body.

You love parties, not because of the alcohol, but because of the freedom to dance the way you want. After the rape, you were unable to go to any party or any bar. You felt like everyone knew what happened to you and would judge you.

But now, two years after the rape, you have a boyfriend who loves you so much, family and friends who helped you through and most likely you have yourself and that’s all you need.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by two hands sneaking around your waist. You place you hands on them thinking it’s one of the guys, but the hairs on them make you realize it’s none of them.

Abruptly you turn around meeting with a pair of green eyes. You try to get out of his hold, but his hands tighten around your his, drawing you closer to him.

“Get off of me.” You yell at him, trying to get out, but you have no chance against him. He’s 6 feet something by the way you have to tilt your head back.

“Oh, come on, you were enjoying it, the whole time.” he leans into you whispering the words in your ear.

“Let me go.” you try again, your eyes starting to tear, this time grabbing his hand and shoving the from your hips, but his grip tightens even more, causing you to hiss from the pain, tears sliding down your cheeks.

In the moment he’s shoved away from you and you are pulled in a hug. Your eyes land on furious Quinn punching the guy in the face as Trevor and Jack are trying to get him off the guy while Luke holds you in his arms.

As soon as Trevor and Jack manage to pull Quinn off of the guy he storms towards you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug. You snuggle your head in his chest, a sob leaving your mouth.

“It’s okay, babe. I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.” he says in your ear, as he pulls you more into him.

“I-I thought it’s o-one you.” you cry in his chest clinging onto him.

“Shh,” he whispers, placing hands on your cheeks as he leans down to kiss you.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” Trevor shouts from behind you, forcing you to step away from Quinn. As soon as you were away from him, Trevor’s fist collided with Quinn’s face, causing him to stumble backward.

“Trevor!” you shout in disbelief standing in front of Quinn.

“Move, y/n,” he growls looking down at you. You shook your head, tears running down your cheeks, making his eyes soften as he unclenched his fists.

“We should go out,” Jack says looking around at the people looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Luke joins him, pushing you all out of the bar.

As soon you’re out of the bar, Trevor’s hand grabs your arm, pulling you away from Quinn who’s surrounded by his brothers.

“What were you thinking?! Sleeping with my friend behind my back?” he hisses at you through his teeth.

“It’s not like th-” you try to say, but he won’t let you finish you sentence before he starts talking again.

“Don’t even try! I’m not blind, I saw how he looked at you the whole night I just thought I was making it in my mind,” he says, his hand tightening around your arm. “I want you to end it. I don’t care if you just fuck or whatever, end it, now,” he says before he let you and makes his way to Quinn. “And YOU! I thought we were clear about the rules. Never sleep with my SISTER! You promised you would take care of her while I’m not with her, not to fucking FUCK HER!” he shouts at him, his fist landing on Quinn’s nose this time.

“Trevor!” You shout in shock, running to Quinn who holds his nose, blood dripping on the ground.

“For fuck’s sake, what is wrong with YOU!” You shout out tears start to form at the edge of your eyes. In every situation, that someone is mad because of you, it’s hard for you to hold tears in. Jack and Luke are holding Trevor so you can take a look at Quinn’s nose.

As you grab his face in your palms, you hear how’s Trevor trying to get out of the hold of Jack and Luke. You raise Quinn’s head, his nose covered in blood just like his mouth and chin. Tears now running down your cheeks as you reach into your purse pulling out tissues to wipe out the blood.

“Y/n,” Quinn’s voice comes out as a whisper but you ignore it as you wipe out the blood. “Baby,” he whispered taking hold of your hand with the one that wasn’t covered in blood. “Hey, don’t cry,” he whispers looking into your eyes with a pleading look. “It’s nothing. I’m okay.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her!” Trevor’s voice comes from behind you. You turn slightly behind you, only to catch a glimpse of fuming mad Trevor who’s still trying to get to us.

“I will talk to her as much as I want and whenever I want for fuck’s sake. She’s my girlfriend.”

Quinn says making himself clear and loud.

“And she’s my sister!” Trevor says this time in a calmer voice as he sees the tears on my cheeks.

“Okay! Both of you stop! Can we go home and do this at home? People are watching!” you sigh not daring to look at the people shooting you glances.

Trevor looks around sighing at the sight of at least ten people watching you and whispering. He nods and strips out of the boy’s hold before he makes his way to the car. You turn back to Quinn wiping away the rest of the blood so he looks normal when he drives you home. You pull out two tampons from your purse.

“No, you won’t do that!” Quinn states as soon as he sees what you’re holding.

“Yes, I will. Now please shut up,” you say uncompromisingly opening the tampons and sticking them in his nose holes.

“I look ridiculous,” he sighs shaking his head. Luke came to you, letting out a chuckle as soon as he saw Quinn. “Oh shut up Moosey!” he shoves him away, grabbing your hand and leading you to his car, where’s already Jack and Trevor.

Trevor clenches his hands in fists as soon as he sees your intertwined fingers. You try to let go of his hand, but Quinn tightens his hold on your signaling you to not.

You know he’s done hiding, but you don’t know if he realizes that he’s just provoking Trevor or is aware of it. You squeeze his hand, smiling at him. He opens the car letting us all in.

As you all sit in the car, uncomfortable silence is surrounding you. Trevor sends death glares to Quinn through the review mirror.

This is going to be a long ride.

— — — — — — —

“Trevor, can you please listen to me!” you shout at him when he got out of the car pacing to the house. You run out of the car after him.

“I don’t wanna listen to any of the shit you want to tell me,” he yells making you flinch. “You are sneaking behind my back with my best friend, like some whore!” as soon as the words left his mouth, guilty is written all over his face. “Y/n I-I didn’t mea-”

“Yes, you did,” you choke out feeling the tears sliding down your cheeks again, for the third time tonight. “You meant it and you know you did,” you swallow the sob in your throat as you take a deep breath. “I-I know it wasn’t right to not tell you right away, but I was afraid you would react this way.”

“Fuck, y/n I really didn’t mean to say that,” he whisper, his hands running through his hair.

“You did, Trevor. You meant it. You know you wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it. And I hope you realize I don’t deserve these words.” you say before you make your way upstairs to your room.

As soon as you’re in your room, you lock the door, and let out a sigh. The tears spilling over the edge and running their way down your cheeks. You let out the sob you were holding in, the whole time you were talking to Trevor.

You lay down on the bed and curl up in a ball, letting the sobs out.

Ever since you and Quinn started dating, you knew Trevor would react badly, but you had no idea that he would react this badly.

You know you should’ve told him that you and Quinn are a thing but you were afraid of how he would react, and what would he do. And you were right.

You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here with your thoughts, but a light knock on your door interrupted me.

“Baby, it’s me,” Quinn’s quiet voice sends shivers down your spine, and another sob escapes your mouth. “Can I come in?” he asks, his voice calm and sweet.

“It’s locked,” you whisper, knowing he probably didn’t hear it.

“Y/n, baby, please, open the door,” he sighs when he tries to open the door. “I want to be here for you!” he pleads. You can imagine the pout he has on his face.

With a sigh, you wrap yourself up in the blanket as you make your way to the door unlocking it. The door swings open and you are embraced with a tight hug.

He wraps his hands around your shoulders and neck to keep you in him. You wrap your hands around his waist, as a sob escapes your throat.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, smoothing your hair. “Trevor will cool down by tomorrow and we’ll talk to him, okay?” You nod your head, breathing in his scent. “I love you, baby,” he whispers in your ears.

“I love you too,” yoy murmured in his chest. He pulls away from you, leading you to bed and lying down with you.

“Go sleep, baby, we’ll deal with this tomorrow.” he kissed your forehead, tucking you more into him. You don’t really know how long you’ve been lying until you eyes closed and you fell asleep.

— — — — — — —

The next morning, you’re sitting at the table with the three brothers. Trevor is still sleeping, which is normal, he won’t be up until ten.

You’re sitting next to Quinn, who has his left hand placed on your tight, as his thumb draws small circles on your skin. It’s his habit. He learns that it helps you when you are nervous, but you think, sometimes when he does it, it’s more for him, to keep him calm and to be less nervous.

When you woke up, Quinn wasn’t in bed. You panicked, that maybe Trevor saw him, and something happened. You quickly got out of your bed and headed down, only to find the three brothers making breakfast.

You’ve to say they overdone themselves. This is the best breakfast you had in a week. Quinn’s usually the one who cooks, which is perfect because you’d be able to burn your whole kitchen. But because he came here a week earlier than you, you were left home alone with a small amount of food, so you were stuck with take-out and KFC.

“I…uhm…I have to ask you, okay,” Luke blurts out in the silence just in the moment when you shove another bite in your mouth. “How…how long have you two…you two been a thing?” he asks pointing between us with a fork.

You and Quinn share a glance before he clears his throat. “Uhm, we’ve been together since the end of the last season.” Jack’s and Luke’s jaws drop.

“So, that’s why you had that little talk with Jamie?” Jack’s face light up with realization, as you’re in confusion. You turn your head at Quinn who’s sending diggers to Jack.

“What talk?” you ask, your full attention on Quinn as you let go of his hand. He scratches the back of his neck, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Oh it was nothing, just told him to stop acting like an asshole when he’s around you, that you’re not interested.” he shrugged, looking down at his plate.

“Really, Quinn?” giggle escapes your mouth. “You were jealous? Why? You know me and Jamie are just friends. Seriously he flirts with everything that has boobs and pussy.” placing your hand on his tight you give it a squeeze.

“I know, but we were together for two months and I was scared, okay?” he says looking deep into your eyes. You just nod, because you know that Quinn hates talking about his feelings in front of other people.

You were about to ask, what’s today’s plan, when Trevor’s figure stops in the doorframe. His eyes roam the room before they land on your hand on Quinn’s tight. You know you should’ve probably taken it off, but what’s the matter when he already knows?

He cleared his throat looking up at Quinn’s face. The bridge of his nose is purple, and the bruise abound his left eye is starting to show up.

“I’m…ugh…I’m sorry how I reacted, yesterday,” he mumbled looking at Quinn.

“‘S okay, I should’ve expected it,” Quinn nods with a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, well, can we maybe talk about it after breakfast?” this time his eyes divert to yours.

You look away and nod. “But if you wanna act like an overprotective asshole, then I have nothing to tell you.” you look him dead in the eyes.

“I won’t,” shakes his head. You nod signaling him to sit down and eat.

The rest of the breakfast was silent, only quiet whispers between Luke and Jack about hockey.

When you all were done with breakfast, you take the plates and make your way to the kitchen. You place them in the sink, preparing yourself to wash them. You know you can simply put them in the dishwasher, but you don’t want to have that conversation with Trevor.

“Y/n,” speaking of the devil, Trevor’s voice sounds from behind you as you stop in your movements. “Can we please talk?” he let out a sigh, you can hear his bare feet hitting the floor as he makes his way to you.

“Yeah, I just do the dishes,” you mumble as you want to continue washing, but his hands stop you, catching yours.

“The dishes can wait,” he sighs when he turns you around, but your eyes look anywhere but him. “Please?” you finally look up at him, the desperation in his eyes clear.

“Fine,” you dry your hands and walk over to the table where is Quinn still sitting, this time with the phone in his hand. “But you will listen and won’t say a word until we’re done, are we clear?” you look at him as you sit down next to Quinn, who puts the phone down as soon as he sees me.

“Okay.”

You look at Quinn asking him silently if he wants to start. He turns his head back to Trevor who’s already looking at him.

“Okay, first of all, I love your sister and I won’t leave her just because you don’t like we’re together,” Quinn states firmly making no room for Trevor to argue. “And second, I’m sorry, that I broke the rule, but you can’t control who you love.”

Trevor’s eyes wander to you, asking you silently if it’s true.

“I love him too, Trev. And you know how much I hated your stupid rules since the beginning.” you sigh, feeling the rock fall from your shoulders as you finally tell him.

“I don’t want to say that I can imagine how you feel, so I won’t, but believe me, when I tell you, that your sister is the woman of my life,” Quinn confesses. Your eyes grow wider at the words that left his mouth. You know that Quinn loves you more than himself and hockey, but hearing it come in this way, felt different.

Trevor nods, looking at me. “How long…when did you two..?” he stumble over his words not knowing how to ask.

“Year, since the end of the last season,” you say, taking a hold of Quinn’s hand. He interlock his fingers with yours placing your hands in his lap.

Trevor’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened and closed in shock. He stands up, and one of his hands goes to his jaw as he stands in front of the glass door.

You look at Quinn as you stand up, he lets go of your hand and gives you a reassuring smile. You slowly walk to Trevor and stand in front of him. His eyes immediately fell on yours as tears started to form in them. Your heart aches at the sight of the tears, you wrap your hands around his waist hoping you’ll bring him some comfort.

“I love him, Trev, really do. He’s the only guy who doesn’t see me as thrash after he gets to know what happened to me.” You whisper leaning your chin on his chest, looking up at him.

“I just don't want him to hurt you,” he whispers back leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t forgive myself, if something happened to you again.”

“He won’t, Trevor. You know he won’t hurt me. In any way, he’s nothing like Jos-”

“Don’t talk about that shit.” he inhaled sharply.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“‘S okay,” he sighs kissing your head. “Hughes!” he calls for Quinn, who’s at your side in a few seconds.

“If you hurt her, I swear I’ll cut your dick and show it deep down your ass.” he threatens him with a serious expression.

You’re about to scold him, but Quinn outrun you.

“I won’t. I love her, Trevor.” Quinn says in a serious tone. Trevor stays silent for a while before he pulls Quinn in a hug.

Well, maybe the night in the bar wasn’t a disaster after all.

[tatoda]

Mine || conrad fisher x fem!reader

!!MINORS DNI!!

masterlist

request

summary: attending the same college as your best friend has its highs and lows, but conrad sees you flirting with another dude he finally does something about his feelings

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warning: slight angst, male receive, jealous conrad CHARACTERS ARE 18

wc: 1.1k

im a little rusty on my smut writing I apologize I'm trying to get back into it still. edited but I may have missed stuff

You and conrad grew up together as the oldest siblings, you to your brother and sister, steven and belly, and conrad to his brother jeremiah. Your birthdays was just a day apart from conrad’s. To say that your mothers were so excited to have babies around the same time was an understatement. They were best friends and it was their dream to have kids at the same time. Also as mothers, they knew you were both meant for each other. To be the first two little kids to run around the beach house, to attending your dream college together.

At the end of the summer before college started in the fall is when conrad broke your heart. It was the 4th of july and Jeremiah dragged everyone out of the house to go to nicole’s party. You hung out with Belly most of the night not trusting the drunk guys around her. With your mind occupied with her most of the night, you never got to talk to conrad. You wanted to watch the fireworks with him and not come to this lame party, you wanted to kiss him and tell him how you felt about him after all these years. Belly took off with nicole letting you have your fun. Who knew that fun could be ruined in 2.5 seconds? You walked into the living room looking for the brown-haired boy only spotting him with a girl on his lap and her eating his face out with him doing the same thing.

You ended up leaving the party and cousins that night. Telling your mom that you needed to finish a ton of college stuff before moving in at the end of the month. She didn’t push to ask you what happened and let you leave knowing you would call if it was anything serious. When everyone arrived back home that night conrad looked for you. He wanted to talk to you about your midnight plans to go watch the fireworks, but everywhere he looked you were gone. He looked in your bedroom seeing the nicely made bed and your bags gone. He sat on the edge of the mattress looking around softly.

“she left.” laurel walked into the room slowly

“where did she go? everything was fine before the party.” he stood up walking around your room and to the picture of you and him as babies. laurel walked behind him placing her hands on each side of his arms

“two peas in a pod, you two are inseparable.” laurel paused “she went home to finish college stuff.”

“and she didn’t ask me to go with her?” he brought a hand to rub over his face and sighed in defeat.

You didn’t talk to conrad the rest of the summer. He texted you, but you decided you better not get your heart broken again.

It was a few weeks into the school year. Your roommate dragged you out to another party that you didn’t want to attend, only because conrad would be there and almost every time he didn’t see you but you saw him. And you saw the girls he would leave with. And it just broke your heart more. So here you were trying to distract yourself with Josh— a boy from your math class— as he talked to you about his frat. You acted as if you cared only trying to hook up with him in the end.

“yeah my dad wanted me to follow him in his footsteps so he decided to pay for my school year.” he bragged taking a sip of his drink

“wow.” you acted interested

“if you want, one day i can take you for a ride on my boat back home?” he leaned towards you as if it was a secret

“i’d love that, yeah.” you put a hand on his arm rubbing it a little before a shadow crept over the both of you, it was conrad.

“sorry to bother, i need to talk to her,” he grumbled in josh’s face

“can it wait? i’m talking to her?” he tried to protest and you didn’t look at conrad, it would only make you fall and say you’re sorry for everything

“no it can’t.” he grabbed your hand off the dudes arm and walked you to an empty room before shutting the door “what the hell are you thinking!” he moved around you and away from the door

“i don’t know.” you shrugged slowly lifting your gaze to him, he was wearing a white shirt, plaid pullover, and jeans, you had never seen the boys other than in the summer and it was nice to see conrad dressed in jeans

“he was practically fucking you with his eyes!” he stood in front of you now

“grow up conrad, we’re in college now.” you scoffed. putting your drink down on a nearby dresser

“yeah, and it’s my job you don’t get an std from a frat boy like him.”

“oh and you’re any different?” it slipped out of your mouth

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he was taken back by your comment

“i’ve seen the girls you take back to your dorm. how do you know they aren’t carrying anything harmful when you stick your dick inside of them!”

“y/n what the fuck are you talking about?” his eyebrows furrowed

“the girls.”

“what girls! not one has stepped into my dorm other than our damn family when we moved in!”

“b-but you take girls home.” you tried to make yourself believe it

“i walk them back to their dorm. they are a drunk mess and my mom raised me that way, you should know.” his voice softly said

“i-“

“i’ve only had my eyes set on you since we were kids.” he blurted

“w-what?”

“yeah but i wanted to give you space to figure out your college life, but not get dicked down by a frat boy at one party.” he smiled to himself

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i didn’t see it earlier.”

“i tried for years, for you to see how i feel.”

“i felt the same way, i was going to tell you at cousin’s, but then i saw you with this girl at nicole’s party and she was all over you so i just left.”

“the party? is that why you left cousins early?” you nodded looking back down at the floor

“i was heartbroken con. you were making out with her what was i supposed to feel?”

“i don’t know you should have talked to me.”

“i talked to jere and he said that it wasn’t worth it, so i just left to get a head start to move in.”

“that’s why you were so distant when college started? we were so excited to be going to the same place, my mom was excited!”

“i felt heartbroken and i didn’t know what to do you’re the only boy i’ve ever loved, i didn’t know how to work around it!”

“i kissed the girl at nicole’s party because jeremiah told me you went on a date,” he whispered

“i-i hung out with a dude at the arcade for 10 minutes trying to help in figuring out a game. jeremiah was there!” you tan your fingers through your hair

“well, how was i supposed to know!”

“it seems like jere is just against us.” conrad laughed softly

“he’s always had something for you, you know.” you nodded knowing how the other fisher boy liked you, but you only had eyes for conrad

“he doesn’t matter. i’ve only seen him as a friend.” conrad let out a soft breath

“come here.” he gestured at you and you walked towards him as he opened his arms for you. the comfort of his arms secured you leaned against his chest hearing the raging of his heartbeat

“your heart is going crazy.” you twisted your head to look up at him with your chin on his chest and conrad looking down at you

“because of you.” he brought a hand to the side of your face and leaned in to kiss you, for the first time. conrad fisher was kissing you, it felt like a dream

He held your face so softy. He didn’t wanna break you, not again. His arms tightened around you pulling him closer to you. The kiss became deeper and stronger than you have ever had before with anyone. That’s when you felt the effect you had on him, he was hard, from you. You didn’t know you could do that to anyone ever but it felt amazing and an accomplishment.

“sorry.” he smiled against your lips as you both slowly separated lips turning red

“don’t be.” bringing one of your hands to his hair moving a few pieces away from his eyes the other hand you had slowly descended towards his pants

“y/n” a warning tone came out of his mouth

“hm?” you looked at him innocence in your eyes as if your hand wasn’t messing with the button of his jeans before moving to the zipper

“no one’s ever-“ his breath hitched as your hand cupped his erection “no one ever touched me down there.” you looked at him confused

“you’ve had sex though?” he nodded

“that doesn’t mean foreplay was involved, they just skip to the sex.” you kissed his lips

“don’t worry, just sit down and relax.” you pushed him to sit on the bed

Dragging down his jeans he lifted your hips to help get the fabrics down to his calf’s. He looked scared and nervous. You were touching him, the girl he’s been in love with forever, finally seeing the effect she has on him. You slowly swiped to get some pre cum off of the head and conrad shuttered under your touch.

“like that?”

“fuck, you have no idea.”

You coated the sides of his dick before slowly moving up and down at the right movement. He looked down at you breathing hard and deadly to your touch. A loud clatter came from outside the room and his eyes turned to worry.

“y/n, i don’t think this is such a good place to do thi-“ you cut him off licking the side of his shaft shutting him up immediately and the sounds from outside passed “fuck” he brought a hand to your head holding it as you bobbed up and down on him “keep going.” you didn’t plan on stopping, you hollowed your cheeks taking him in deeper and his groans filled the room

The way you moved made him jealous of the guys who have seen this image before. You on your knees sucking him off like no tomorrow. But the thought disappeared as soon as it came because he realized that this will be his view for the rest of his life. You looked up at him making eye contact and he felt the warm build but he didn’t wanna release just yet.

“just a few more, yeah.” he started to take control by moving your head with his hips as they came up off of the bed making you gag “just-“ he moved faster feeling the edge start. he pumped all the way into your mouth and let his release into your mouth as he groaned into the air

“fuck.” you pulled off of him and swallows the salty taste “did you just-“ he couldn’t believe you were real

“is that bad?”

“no, no, god no.” he moved your hair from your face. “all i know is no man is ever touching you again, you’re mine.”

[xsaltburnx]

Don't leave me

Comforting Farleigh after Felix's death

Farleigh Start x female reader

a/n: I really wanted to write this because I feel like Farleigh needed someone to comfort him and tell him everything's going to be alright after he got yelled at and he definitely deserved better, poor baby, (also that's what I think the scene is about, if I got it wrong, sorry)

warning: Felix dying, swearing, everybody treating Farleigh like shit, drugs, Farleigh crying a lot

word count: 3,299

You have known Farleigh for as long as you can remember. He's always been there for you. Your rock, your shoulder to cry on, someone who knew all of your secrets and all your problems, always ready to help you. Even if it was 4 pm or 4 am, you called and he was there.

And you were always there for him. Even though most of the times you two were on different continents and hours and miles away from each other, you never let something like that ruin what you two had. Then things started getting a lot easier because Farleigh came to live in England and since then you were inseperable. Yes, you did spend quite some time at Saltburn even when Farleigh wasn't here because you were really good friends with Felix and then later met Venetia, who you've clicked with just like that. Yes, sometimes they had their own opinion on Farleigh and sometimes you hated the way they talked about him but he somehow learned how to shake that off and not take it too seriously, so you did exactly that even though deep down it hurt to listen.

When you joined Oxford university, you and Farleigh became even closer and you eventually fell in love with him. You kept it a secret for quite some time because you were afraid to talk about your feelings because you didn't want to lose him. He was your home and you weren't planning on losing that, but luckily he felt the same and that was it. He was everything you always wanted and you swore you would never let him go or do anything that would harm him or let him battle his problems alone. No fucking way.

Everything was going great. You finished another year at Oxford, celebration obviously planned there and then later at Saltburn. Summer was about to begin and you had a feeling this summer was going to be one to remember. And oh boy it was.. but for very different reasons.

"Hey baby." Farleigh walked into your dorm, closing the door behind him, his arms immedistely wrapping around your body, hugging you from behind. "Did you finish packing?" He aks gently as he looked around the room, your clothes still splatered across the floor and your bed, messier than the first night you came here.

"Shut up." You playfully hit his arm as you heard him chuckle in your ear, his lips connecting with the top of your head in a gentle kiss. "I still have so much to do, I'll never make it in time."

"Yes you will, I'll wait for you, you know I'm not leaving." He spun you around, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you closer and hugged you tightly, one of those as you called them grizly bear hugs.

"Then help me pack?" You batted your eyelashes at him and made a pouty face, hoping it would work.

"Oh no, that's not fair, don't do that, you know I can't resis that face" He said and kissed your lips swiftly, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Of course I'll help."

"Is anybody else coming with us?" You asked while folding your t-shirts, placing them neatly inside your suitcase.

"Oliver fucking Quick." Farleigh trailed off.

"What?" You quickly turned around to look at him, unsure if you heard that correctly. You obviously didn't like him, I mean Fekix though he was a very inspiring person but you and Farleigh? You didn't get the hype and always held him on his toes.

"Yeah, Felix invited him. I don't know why, something about him not wanting to go home because of his parents."

"Do Elspeth and James know that?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"Yes, apparently Elspeth is extremely excited to meet him. That'll be interesting." Farleigh closed one of your bags and placed it on his shoulder. "Damn, what do you have in here, rocks?"

"Very funny, no, all the vibrators you gave me." You said, laughing, seriousness washed over his face.

"Oh really?" He dropped the bag on the floor and grabbed your waist, hoisting your body up on his shoulder, his large hand smacking you on the ass. Your laugh echoed throughout the room, probably audible outside too, but that's how Farleigh always wanted you to be. Such beautiful laughter, it was like music to his ears, like daisies adorning a beautiful meadow. He gently put you down on the bed and laid on top of you, his thumb caressing your soft cheek.

"I love you." He whispered, a special kind of sparkle in his eyes, a smile plastered on his face.

"I love you too, Farleigh." His hot breath washed over your face, his lips slightly brushed yours before he kissed you gently, a moment of bliss before the big storm.

~ ° * ° ~

Summer at Saltburn? Always crazy and busy, but the busy part? Partying and laying out on the freshly cut grass or swimming in the pool. That was all you did there every summer. Not a bad life, you always thought to yourself, but sometimes it was nice to go back to reality and to a real life.You'd be lying if you said you didn't get used to this kind of life, the glamour, the dinner parties, dressing up,it was quite fun to a certain point. When it was too much, you and Farleigh packed your bags and left for a week or two, all alone, away from all of it. But to someone, this life was inviting them in more and more as each day passed.

And then the Cattons decided to throw Oliver a birthday party. 200 people? 300? You lost count. I mean if it's a party then it's a great idea, but for the entire night Farleigh had a very strange feeling about everything that night. He watched Oliver just skulk around almost every room in the house, people not paying too much attention to him. Most of them only knew him as "the birthday boy" but only a few of them knew his actual name. There was something strange about him, Farleigh always kept an eye on him.

...and he was right...

Around 11 am you felt someone shaking your body, trying to wake you up. You opened your eyes and saw Farleigh standing in front of you and you immediately knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking, his mannerisms completely different than how he usually is.

"What is it?" You asked and instantly sat up on the bed, fear in your eyes and in your voice, your heart suddenly picking up its pace, a sudden wave of ringing filling up your ears.

"Felix is missing." Farleigh trailed off.

"What?" You quickly got up and didn't even bother to put on shoes. You ran outisde and saw Venetia in the water, walking around, waving her hands underwater. You ran towards her with Farleigh, both of you joining her, hoping he's not in here and that he's fine. Then you heard a gut wrenching scream coming from the maze. You looked at Farleigh and instantly felt tears well up in your eyes. You shook your head and walked as quickly as possible to the edge, climbed and got up, the three of you running towards the maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand so it was easy to get to the center, but at that moment you wish that you could just get lost in there because what you all saw was something you would never be able to forget as it was buried inside you mind very deeply.

Felix was laying there on his stomach, golden wings still attached to his back. His body a pale colour, almost a hint of blue, his beautiful eyes now without that incredible spark that you got so used to seeing. His lifeless body was something you never thought you would have to see in your life nor did you want to but for some reason you couldn't look away.

Venetia, you and Farleigh fell to your knees, grasping onto one another, looking for comfort as tears just started coming out, the pain in your chest unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It was as if someone ripped out your heart, a huge hole right in the middle of your chest. Your ears started ringing and you felt like you were going to pass out. You suddenly felt like you weren't on this planet anymore, completely disoriented and if Farleigh and Venetia weren't grasping onto your body, you don't know how you would have dealt with this alone. You let out a loud scream, your chest convulsing from all the sobs that kept coming out of your body.

You don't know how or when you got up, left the maze and changed your clothes or when on earth did everybody gather for lunch, but there you were, sitting at the table with James, Elspeth, Venetia, Farleigh, oh and yes, of course, Oliver.

The curtains shut as the room plunged into darkness, making it look red like blood, not a hint of daylight. It somehow looked terrifying and gruesome, very unpleasant. You were sitting next to Farleigh, his face kind of emotionless as he kept staring at the table, not moving his gaze from the same spot. You reached out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, making him snap out of his thoughts, a sob suddenly falling from his lips. On your left was an empty chair and an empty plate. Felix's spot and when you first walked in and saw it, you broke down again.

Suddenly there was a hint of a squeaking gurney on the outside, meaning they were passing the window with Felix's body and then there was a sound of doors closing. A tear rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes, your hand suddenly slipping away from Farleigh's.

"Oh my God... May I be excused, please?" Farleigh whimpered and got up from the table, his cheeks stained with tears.

"No. We haven't finished lunch." James replied, not even looking at Farleigh.

"Lunch is cold. You want me just eat it like nothing is happening?"

"What else is there to do, darling?" Elspeth looked at him, sadness noticable in her eyes.

"Anything! Anything-" You looked at him as he screamed out, a whimper escaping your lips as tears started falling from your eyes again. The pain was unbearable and seeing Farleigh like that broke your heart and how everybody acted like nothing ever happened, like Farleigh was the only one who actually cared and the only one who saw how messed up it was that everybody was acting like this. James slammed his fists on the table, the plates clattering. You jumped, your body shook from fear, the sudden change in tone almost too much.

"Farleigh! Will you be quiet?! Sit down and eat the bloody pie! Just eat it! Eat it and shut up! Eat the bloody pie!"

Farleigh sat down and grabbed his fork, placing the pie in his mouth but unable to chew through the meat. Small pieces flew out of his mouth and onto the plate, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"You're not the only person here with feelings. None of us wants your bloody American feelings!" James trailed off and suddenly there was silence inside the room. You didn't even try to put anything in your mouth because you felt like you were going to throw up.

"I think it’s delicious." Oliver suddenly said, Farleigh snapping at him.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" you look at Oliver and his expression and there was nothing on his face. Like he didn't care. You wiped away your tears and placed your hands in your lap.

"Wait, does no one else find it weird?.. No one else finds that weird?"

"Farleigh.." you whispered and placed your hand on top of his, your fingers grazing his in a comforting way.

"I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh." Oliver replied in a strict tone, a fork in his hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Please stop." Venetia sighed and said quietly.

"What is he saying?" James asked and looked at Oliver.

"I..I've no idea." Farleigh said, clearly confused what Oliver wanted to get with all of this.

"What I'm saying is that I'd feel guilty too."

"Guilty?"

"If I was the one racking up lines the night someone died."

"Fuck you." Farleigh stared back at him, cursing, only hate for Oliver in his body at that very moment.

"That's not a denial." Oliver replied as he leaned forward a little bit, his gaze moving between you and Farleigh.

"You took it too far, Oliver." You interrupted them, defending Farleigh.

"Is that true?" James asked, pale with fury. He looked towards Duncan signaling him to leave. "Search Farleigh's room."

"No." Farleigh crumpled into his chair and started sobbing. Now you were a little bit scared. Your eyes widened, not surely understanding what they were going to do about this situation. Seeing and hearing what was happening was making the situation even harder. You couldn't take your eyes off Farleigh and when you saw tears continuously welling up in his eyes, you couldn't help but start sobbing as well. Your heart was breaking.

"Get out." Sir James said angrily.

"Please, he didn't do anything.." You looked at Sir James, begging, trying to make him see that it really wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to do with all of this. Of course he didn't believe you, he didn't even acknowledge you.

"No, wait-" Farleigh whimpered and wiped away his tears with the sleeves of his jumper.

"What's happening?" Elspeth asked after wiping her mouth eith a linen cloth.

"Aunt Elspeth- Elspeth-" he said desperately but got interrupted by James.

"Don’t you dare look at her!"

Elspeth looked liked she was now ignoring Falreigh, not wanting to look at him at all. Could she ever look at him again after this? Who knows.

"Get out!"

Farleigh looked around the table, searching for somebody to look at him, to see they were making a mistake but no one looked at him except for you. Not even Oliver. He got up your hand slipped off, hanging next to your body. Your lip trembled at the sudden empty feeling, your head hung low as you kept staring at your fingers. Farleigh grabbed onto the chair, picking at the stitching.

"I won't mention this to the police. That's all you get. Nothing more. Ever again." James trailed off and that was the last thing you heard from him that night. Farleigh turned to the side and left the room, leaving you alone with the Cattons and Oliver. You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand.

"You didn't have to do this. It wasn't his fault." You snapped back at Oliver, his eyes quickly looking back at you. A hidden smirk adorned his face, a sinnister look in his eyes.

"You know he did it. He was racking up lines the whole night. Felix could've taken whatever Farleigh was using." Oliver replied, his plate now half empty. "Even when you two were fucking outside. It was like a freak show."

"Fuck you." You quickly got up and threw the linen clot on the table, your legs feeling like jello. "If you'll excuse me, I can't be in the room with someone who cares more about a fucking stranger than a member of this family."

You turned around on your heels and walked out of the room. The second you closed the doors, you let out the biggest sob, a long hallway making it echo throughout the house. You felt like you were falling apart from the inside out.

You stood outside Farleigh's room as you quietly knocked on the door, only a quiet sob audible. You silently opened the door and what you saw broke your heart completely. Farleigh was laying on the floor, his knees pulled towards his body, his arms wrapped around them as loud sobs fell from his lips.

You looked around his room and saw how big of a mess it was. Everything was scattered on the floor. His clothes, his books, all of his belongings on the floor. You bit your lip in hopes it would stop you from crying, but it didn't help.

You walked over to his sobbing figure and knelt down, your arms immediately wrapping around his body.

"Farleigh... baby.." you whispered, his body shaking.

"They think I killed him." He whispered through his cries, his tears soaking the carpet underneath him. "I didn't do it." His cries kept getting louder and it was harder for you to stay quiet because you couldn't stand him being like this, broken, like he didn't mean anything to anybody. Like it was all his fault. You wanted to fix everything and make it all okay for him because that's exactly what he deserved. He deserved better and to be treated right.

"No, Farleigh, you didn't do it. It's not your fault, please don't think that. You didn't kill Felix." You told him, your hands caressing his arms, comforting him, hoping it would help him even just a little bit.

"Now I feel like I did." He cried out, his face now buried in his hands.

"Hey, come here." You grabbed his arm and gently pulled him, moving his hands from his face. You intertwined your fingers with his and helped him sit up, his knees once more pulled towards his body. You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, gently caressing his cheeks before you cupped his face, making him look at you directly in your eyes.

"You didn't do it, why would you think that? Because of Oliver?" He just nooded and closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It felt like someone was sitting on your chest, the pressure and the pain in your heart from seeing Farleigh like this was unbearable.

"Fuck him, Farleigh. He's a nobody, a fucking leech and if I could get rid of him, I would. You're so much more than all of this. You deserve everything in this world and if they can't see it, fuck 'em." You trailed off, tears welling up in your eyes and your voice breaking every other word.

"Everybody is leaving me, pushing me away like I mean nothing." He sobbed and quickly got up as he started pacing around his room, his cries so loud that it seemed like he was fighting for air. You jumped up and stood there in place for a few seconds, somehow unable to move.

"Are you also going to leave me?" His voice cracked and right then he looked like a little kid. You dare to say that he looked absolutely defeated. "Please don't leave me."

A loud cry fell from your lips, his words hurting you, hurting how he thought that you would actually leave him after everything. You shook your head and practically ran towards him, your body smashing into his

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, your face buried in his chest as you sobbed quietly. His arms squeezed you, almost as if he was afraid if he held you lightly or if he let you go, you would somehow slip away.

"I will never leave you, Farleigh. I could never. You're a part of me and if I lose you, I'll lose myself. Please don't ever think that I would leave you." He kissed the top of your head, one hand still wrapped around your body while the other gently caressed your hair.

"Now let's get out of here. Okay?" You kissed him on the lips gently, his arms resting on your hips. You had to get out of this house, had to get away from Saltburn as soon as possible. The only good thing about all of this? Farleigh by your side.

"Okay."

[star-girl69]

imagine the little family but reader gets hit on by one of the new campers and the rest of the camp is waiting to see ivy and clarisse reaction 🌚

I LOVE THIS OMMGGGGGG

no bc this is specifically so funny and dear to me bc imagine

you’re like sitting with ivy and playing in the sand on the beach having a fun time

and then hi harry from better than revenge in an alternate universe

clarisse has been so busy lately bc it’s the start of summer and there’s all these new campers and things

so you haven’t been around each other as much 💔

dumbass harry walks over to you and is like “it’s so sweet how you treat your younger sibling like your own”

and ivy is preening at the attention of this nice boy who quickly realizes the way to your heart is through ivy

you just think he’s nice and playing with ivy in the sand and making a killer sand castle tbh….

then he says smth a little flirty like a compliment but neither you or ivy think much of it at first

then he’s like “oh hey here you have some sand on your face” and leans so close to you to brush your cheek with his thumb

woah buddy 😟😟😟😟😟

ivy is like ok what the freak (she’s not supposed to swear) (let’s be real she still does)

bc like she’s not dumb….. she knows the only person who touches you like this is clarisse and yeah this guy is nice but she doesn’t like him THAT much

he doesn’t look that strong he can’t be her jungle gym she’s not liking it

you’re sitting there in shock and ivy is getting mad bc HE SHUFFLES CLOSER TO YOU

she climbs into your lap and starts SCREAMING bloody murder and kicking out wildly at harry

“Y/N I WANT TO GO Y/N I WANT TO GO I WANT TO GO I WANT TO GO”

so you pick her up and rush your little butts out of there and harry is trying to follow you bc THIS BITCH WILL NOT GIVE UP DAMN

and you’re looking over your shoulder like GO AWAY

after another second you think he’s gone so you set ivy down

you crouch down and you’re pretty sure she just didn’t like harry flirting w you but you just wanna make sure smth wasn’t actually wrong

“hey are you guys okay?”

“RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” is ivy’s war cry as she jumps on top of harry and starts screaming and kicking and hitting him

AND YOURE SCREAMING TOO BC WTF??????

“IVY YOU GET DOWN RIGHT NOW NO DESSERT FOR THREE DAYS I SWEAR”

eventually everyone kinda heads towards the commotion of this 10 year old screaming and attacking harry and you desperately trying to pull ivy off of him

that is when clarisse walks over

she just stares at the scene for a second in absolute shock

then harry finally pushes ivy off of him and she FLIES into you like he pushed her HARD bc he’s a BITCH

and you weren’t expecting it so you fall back w ivy in your arms

CLARISSE IS ABOUT TO GO INSANE

she runs over but harry is like NO NO NO MY CHANCES ARE RUINED

so he’s desperately trying to help you up and you’re like oh my god i think i’m gonna die

ivy starts attacking him like a feral dog again

“YOU- HURT- MY- Y/N- STUPID HEAD!!!!!!!”

you need a leash for her atp

but by the time clarisse makes it over to you she realizes what’s going on

she crouches down next to you and says ivy’s name really intimidatingly and ivy is like

“OMG HI CLARISSE I LITERALLY SAVED Y/N’S LIFE ARENT YOU PROUD OF ME”

and after she looks over you and sees that your find just a little shocked and very tired (motherhood is hard) she decides to glare at harry

“okay and what does that mean?”

“ok so we were playing in the sand and then harry comes over and he’s nice and he’s helping me build my sandcastle and then he starts TOUCHING Y/N and getting all CLOSE TO HER and i was like woah wait hold on what the freak so then i threw a tantrum so we would leave BUT HE KEPT FOLLOWING!!!!!!! I JUST WANTED HIM TO GO AWAY BC YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO TOUCHES Y/N LIKE THAT SO I ATTACKED HIM AND THEN HE PUSHED ME SO I ATTACKED HIM MORE BUT NOW YOURE HERE!!!!!!”

harry is just horrified bc that’s exactly what happened this child was just throwing a tantrum 5 minutes ago how is she so articulated

she’s just smart like that tho

clarisse is like “oh so you’re flirting with my girlfriend? are you dumb? literally everyone knows.”

harry just accepts defeat and mutters a few choice words under his breath and walks away

clarisse debates about punching him but decides that ivy has already done all of the work for her

ivy hugs clarisse so tight

“you are so amazing my little warrior you did such a great job protecting y/n i am so proud”

then you join the hug “yes you’re my little knight in shining armor but please remember violence is not always the answer”

ivy and clarisse share a look like “this crazy lady just be saying stuff”

“EXCUSE ME???? BC I KNOW YOU TWO DIDNT JUST LOOK AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT-”

you try to actually make ivy skip dessert for a few days but she’s so adorable so you give it to her anyways

clarisse teaches her how to properly throw a punch and kick someone

you are not pleased

ivy is ecstatic her new passion is fighting

harry stays far away from you

also percy is now campaigning to bring awareness to the clarisse and mini clarisse epidemic

he is very concerned.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

i’ve got you

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

summary: an anxious Y/N feels overwhelmed while partying with the pogues at the boneyard, and JJ does his best to calm her nerves.

warning(s): underaged drinking, panic attack

a/n: a big thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last maybank!sister snippet. i hope to write a lot more for JJ in the future, so feel free to leave any requests if you have any specific ideas of what you’d like to read!

also please let me know if i should make these shorter. lol. i'm never sure.

Y/N screwed her eyes shut, trying and failing to keep her hands from trembling as they dented her red solo cup. Her heart was beating so fast that her head could barely keep up, the loud music and sweaty bodies that enclosed her doing nothing to ease her mind.

It was a picturesque summer night out in the boneyard, which of course meant that the Pogues just had to have a kegger. Y/N had grown used to the routine by then, tagging along as they went out to buy the keg and an insane amount of plastic cups that Kie always complained she found littered all over the beach the morning after. Y/N typically helped in the prep for whatever wild evening lay ahead, and had even served as a DD the few times that the Pogues got plastered enough to willingly allow a 15-year-old to drive the Twinkie. However, despite her brother's constant pleading and nagging, she'd never actually attended one of their infamous beach parties.

At least, not until tonight.

Y/N had always been shy, the complete opposite of her elder brother and all of his wild impulsivity. She hated big crowds and loud noises, and even though she would occasionally drink one while out on the Pogue, she wasn't even the biggest fan of beer. But JJ had begged her to join them all day long, poking and prodding at her nerves in his attempts to finally get his baby sister out of her shell.

"Come on, Y/N. You really wanna spend the rest of your life cooped up in the chateau?" he'd said dramatically, throwing his hands up in desperation. "You really oughtta live a little sometime."

You really oughtta live a little sometime.

His words had haunted her well into the evening, and at the last minute she'd finally decided to bite the bullet. JJ was right, after all. While most kids her age were busy making memories and taking risks, she spent her evenings curled up with a book in her lap.

Sure, it wouldn't be the most comfortable experience, but what was the worst that could happen? After all, like her brother always said, stupid things had good outcomes all the time.

She made a mental note to correct JJ on that stupid motto as someone pushed past her, blowing chunks into the bushes only a few feet away from rigid form.

Y/N covered her nose, averting her gaze just in time to notice a familiar head of blond hair breaking through the mess of bodies whooping and grinding on one another.

"Holy shit!" JJ hollered wildly, dimples painfully visible in his state of drunken bliss. "Tom, that's some gnarly shit, man! Trust me, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." He gave the boy a pat on the back as he retched, though thankfully the steady stream of vomit had ended.

Y/N only stood and watched. It was clear that JJ hadn't seen her, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to ruin his night.

"Yo, Y/N/N!"

Too late.

JJ made his way over in sloppy strides, and Y/N turned up her nose at the stench of alcohol clinging to him. He pulled her into him with an arm slung over her shoulders.

"Hi, Jay." Y/N hoped her brother was drunk enough not to notice the tremble in her voice.

"Where'd you go, kid? I've been looking for you all night." He was leaning on her now, gleefully unaware as he slowly crushed her beneath his weight. Y/N groaned with the effort it took to keep her brother upright, struggling not to remind him that it was in fact he who left her to do some shots and never returned.

"Yeah I was . . . I was j-just--"

"Shit, I didn't know you were drinking. That's my girl," he slurred with a wink, pointing at the cup Y/N was damn near close to dropping. It was all getting too much for her—JJ's weight boring into her side, the overwhelming stench of beer, the screaming mouths and dancing bodies slowly closing her in. She felt like a caged animal, her lungs tight and chest heavy.

"Hey, you seen Pope yet? I lost him an hour ago—saw him walk off with some blonde chick with a tramp stamp. Oh, you need a top-up? You should go now, 'm pretty sure the keg's getting low."

JJ continued to ramble on as Y/N crumbled underneath him, her eyes searching desperately for somewhere to go.

"Aw man, I love this song!" Y/N gasped as JJ began jerking her around, forcing her to sway back and forth with him. "Yo, Kurt! Turn that shit up bro!"

Y/N felt blood rushing to her ears, her hands growing clammy as her nerves took over. You're fine, she told herself. You're fine, you're fine. But it wasn't working—she couldn't hear herself think over the music blaring from the speakers.

"Come on, loosen up Y/N! Let's dance!"

"No!" Y/N reached her breaking point, escaping from beneath her brother's outstretched arm. JJ stumbled, just barely managing to catch himself and get a good look at the fear etched into Y/N's features.

"What? Y/N—" He held out a hand that she cringed away from, breathing raggedly as she did.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Y/N!" JJ called after her as she ran off, not knowing exactly where she was headed but intent on getting away. She wound up crouching behind a small hill across from the bustling core of the party, far enough away that the music finally fell to an acceptable volume.

Y/N brought her knees to chest and buried her face in them, fingers tugging at her hair as tears spilled from her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be dumb enough to let JJ convince her that this would be a good idea? Y/N forced her breathing to slow as her chest tightened, coughing in her feeble attempts.

Y/N had listened to a few songs run their course by the time she managed to get a grip on herself, her breaths steadying as she counted eight-second inhales and eight-second exhales. Still Y/N rested her forehead against her knees, so dead-set on staying calm that she didn't notice the sound of JJ's footsteps in the sand.

"Hey." Y/N gasped, her head shooting upright as she scrambled to back away from whoever had found her. "Hey, calm down. It’s alright, Y/N." She sighed in relief when she recognized JJ's outline in the dark, her brother crouched before her shrunken form. "It's okay. Just me."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"'S okay. Didn't mean to scare you." He awkwardly held out another cup to her, which she observed warily. "Don't worry, it’s just water. Figured it might help more than beer."

Y/N smiled, accepting JJ's peace offering gratefully. "You'd be right about that." She greedily drank it all in one gulp, only then realizing how dry her mouth had gotten. "Thanks, Jay."

"Least I could do, since I forced you to come her." Y/N sighed, noticing the guilt swimming in her brother's blue eyes.

"You didn't force me."

"Well, I might as well have."

"it's not your fault, JJ." He rested a comforting hand on her knee.

"Sure it is. I knew you didn't like this kind of scene and I dragged you here anyway." He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as regret consumed his intoxicated mind.

"It's okay." Y/N shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. JJ ruffled her hair. "Sorry I can't be a party animal like you."

"Ah, don't sweat it. Makes my job a lot easier, anyway." Y/N giggled, shoving him lightly, and JJ couldn't help but smile. "So, what's the plan? Want me to drive you home?"

Y/N scoffed. "I don't even think you could if you tried."

"Oh, Y/N," He teased her with a smile, "you severely underestimate my driving skills."

"And you severely overestimate my willingness to die." JJ chuckled at that. "Plus, who said I wanted to leave?"

"You’re gonna stay?'

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I've made myself a pretty comfy hideout over here." JJ pouted.

"I guess . . ." He looked down at his sister with a smirk. "Or you could try the party again."

Immediately Y/N felt that skin-crawling uncertainity take over once more. She bit at her bottom lip. "I don't . . . I dunno, Jay."

"Look, I promise I won't leave you this time. We can just sit around the campfire—maybe try to find Kie or something. What'd'ya think?" He held out a hand to her. "We'll take it slow."

Y/N considered this for a moment, eventually taking hold of her brother's hand. "Okay."

"Sweet!" JJ tried his best to stand, but only wound up falling back on his ass. "I'm gonna need some help getting up, though."

Y/N laughed, hoisting her brother to his feet with a grunt, and JJ smiled as she allowed her hand to linger in his while they walked. The very same way she did when they were little.

Just like JJ promised, he found the two of them a space to sit by the blazing campfire and never left Y/N's side.

・❥・

Hours had passed before the kegger had begun to die down, their beer long gone and speakers long dead. The rest of the Pogues had finally joined the Maybanks around the fire pit, and the group listened comfortably as Kie plucked at the strings of her ukulele. "Y'know what, Jay? I wouldn't mind trying this kegger thing again."

JJ smiled. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it." She snuggled closer to his chest, absorbing whatever extra heat his body offered. "As long as you're there to hold my hand."