#i assumed i'd get this fucker up today

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

I wasn't planning on posting this today, but this idea came to me today and I must share it! (I'm still working on my special au to celebrate two big tumblr milestones! Hopefully it'll be done by the end of the week!)

With all of the dehumanizing propaganda labelling magic users as "inhuman monsters" that Uther spread during the purge, people who are attracted to magic users are probably labelled as deviants. In Camelot, saying "yeah I'd bang a wizard" is considered completely taboo. But that doesn't stop people from fantasying about what they can't have.

This, of course, spawns a whole genre of steamy romance manuscripts featuring evil sorcerers kidnapping fair maidens and falling in love with them, powerful wizards seducing innocent princess with their dark magics, dark and broody warlocks tricking naive ladies into becoming their lovers through a devil's bargain, etc. These cheesy romance manuscripts are quite popular with the ladies of Camelot, as they have a forbidden aspect to them in both the owning of such stories and the material of the stories themselves. Plus, when you're a noblewoman trapped in a loveless political marriage, the fantasy of a dark and powerful magic user becoming enamored with them and stealing them away is quite the appealing fantasy.

To many people in Camelot, magic users become the ultimate forbidden romance fantasy, being (in their imaginations) secretive and powerful creatures who can use their magic to exert their will and their dark desires on their innocent victims.

The few people in Camelot who have actually slept with magic users don't help these rumors either, as they only add fuel to the fire. Gwaine certainly has plenty of stories to share about how much fun sorcerers and witches can be in bed with their magic, and the people in the tavern listen with rapt attention and furious blushing when he tells those stories.

But when tales of Emrys, the last dragonlord and the most powerful sorcerer to ever live, travel from the druids to Camelot? The wizard-fuckers in Camelot went wild.

Within a couple weeks, there were dozens of steamy (and VERY imaginative) romance novels and manuscripts written and passed around Camelot, all revolving around the mysterious and brooding warlock Emrys.

As people's dirty imaginations ran wild with what Emrys might be like, the general perception of Emrys became more and more ridiculous. According to some of these stories, Emrys was a seven foot tall brooding warlock whose magic made him irresistible, forcing people to succumb to his will.

Pretty much everyone in Camelot gets their hands on one of these manuscripts or hears about them. Gwaine has his own collection of them, which isn't too shocking to anyone, but, to everyone's surprise, Merlin starts collecting some of those stories too (to make sure that no one else gets their hands of such embarrassing material, but people just assume that he has some sort of kink). He even blushes whenever someone mentions them (out of mortification).

Eventually, Arthur finds out about his kingdom's dirty fascination with this Emrys guy because people kept teasing Merlin for his crush on Emrys. Arthur demands to know who Merlin has fallen for (for security reasons, of course, not because he's jealous). It's at that point that Gwen and the knights have to tell Arthur that his entire kingdom (including Merlin apparently) has been thirsting over a hot mysterious sorcerer that no one actually knows anything about.

Arthur almost blows up when he hears this, furious that his entire kingdom has been having dirty fantasies about a dangerous man who's most likely their enemy! And don't even get him started on how Merlin, his Merlin, has the audacity to be more attracted to this Emrys than Arthur himself! This is outrageous!

However, no matter how much Arthur tries to point out to Merlin that being attracted to Emrys is a bad idea and nothing will ever come of it anyways, he still keeps on catching Merlin with those dirty manuscripts about Emrys! (Because Merlin is still trying to secretly get rid of them all).

Eventually, Arthur gets frustrated enough that he'll try anything to get Merlin's attention away from Emrys. He thinks over how he could do that for a while, until one day he overheard two ladies of the court talking about how much they enjoyed it when their partners in bed roleplayed as a powerful magic user like Emrys, and Arthur begrudging came to a solution.

The next day, when Arthur catches Merlin reading a story about Emrys and blushing wildly again, Arthur clears his throat, looks a mortified Merlin dead in the eyes, and asks, "if I took you to bed and pretended to be Emrys while doing so, would that finally get you over your ridiculous attraction to this criminal of a sorcerer?"

Arthur was perhaps a bit too blunt in his delivery, as Merlin promptly started choking on air after Arthur's question in lieu of an answer, much to Arthur's annoyance. You see, as much as it would irritate Arthur to have to pretend to be another man, let alone an enemy sorcerer, in bed, Arthur had a plan.

Arthur obviously needed to rein in Merlin's lust before his servant did anything stupid (like fall into bed with an actual dangerous sorcerer), and what better way to do that than slake Merlin's lust himself? Truly, Arthur was the most generous king there ever was (ignoring his own rampant attraction towards Merlin). And once they were in bed, Arthur would prove to Merlin how great and how proficient a lover he is, and any thoughts of Emrys (or any man who wasn't Arthur for that matter), would be forgotten immediately in the face of how superior Arthur is!

Arthur mentally pats himself on the back for coming up with this genius plan as Merlin's coughing fit finally ends.

"Arthur, why on earth would you even ask that?!"

"Because you're clearly enamored with this sorcerer, so perhaps this will finally get that stupidity out of your system!"

They go back and forth like this for a while, until finally Merlin, to his own shock, agrees to Arthur's proposal. Arthur feels alight with victory for a few minutes, until he realizes that he'll have to learn how to act convincingly like a powerful sorcerer for one night. At that point, Arthur goes out to buy some dark robes for himself to hopefully get more into character, and even "studies" some of those spicy manuscripts to get an idea of what Merlin would be expecting.

Arthur barely managed to finish one of them from how scandalized he was at their contents. Why were these so popular with his subjects?! Still, Arthur soldiered on, reading more and more of the embarrassing romance manuscripts until he finally felt confident in what Merlin was looking for.

Of course, when the time came, Arthur was terrible at roleplaying as a sorcerer, but Merlin didn't mind one bit (most because Merlin was torn between laughing hysterically or being embarrassed beyond belief at at Arthur's poor impersonation of a poor interpretation of Merlin himself, so he decided to instead just enjoy being with Arthur).

And that's all for now! I'm thinking about doing a continuation of this later on, where Camelot (who's been thirsting over Emrys) learns that Merlin had been Emrys all along. Please let me know if you'd like to see that one day!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[threepandas]

Sun Burnt: Part 3

When a legendary hitman Eye Threatens to break both your fucking legs?

They Are Not Joking.

FUCKING OW.

Still! Jokes on HIM! I'm in to that sh-! Wait, no, not the time for memes! Or is it jokes? Irrelevant! I can still fuckin RUN, is the thing. Sucks to SUCK, Sun boy! Us Lightnings are BUILT DIFFERENT!

And I BETTER not hear any snide "yeah I BET they are" from the peanut gallery!

My Flame type ROCKS! I am a TAZER who can put my fist through WALLS. Stand dead center of a road and just? Fuckin TANK a speeding car! Can YOU? Didn't THINK so! Lightning supremacy! One of you fuckers gimme a highfive! HELL YEAH!

But also? Like... I take back EVERYTHING I ever said about the Carcassa.

ALL OF IT.

They are the GEMS of the Mafia. The SHINING HEARTS of raw compassion! Skull-sama's willingness to PERSONALLY piss off The "I AM The Dread God Lesser Deity's Fear" Reborn? An inspiration to us all. I... I would steal for this man. Like? For FREE. Not DIE for him or anything, God no, but? I would steal really REALLY expensive shit for him!

The man's an absolute mad lad. A LEGEND.

I will NEVER forget this... assuming I survive.

Because somehow HE already has my name, face, and multiple alias plastered OUT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. Ha ha... oh god. Thaaaaat is a bounty. BIG bounty. Lots of zeros. G...gonna die.

My phone chimes.

"You know exactly who this is. Pick up." The screen reads, right before it rings.

HA HA, NOPE!

I stand, well more like shoot to my feet, from my seat on the ground. Quuuuick steps too the blimp windows. Wrench those open. Sim card out! Crush the phone. AND YEET!!! BeGONE DEMOOOON!

We shall NOT be engaging with The Devil today! No Sir!

.....Skull's phone starts ringing.

I whine like a cornered animal. So... this is what a real life horror movie feels like. NEAT. I hate it! I watch, probably shaking, as Skull-sama casually drags out his phone. Glances down at it. Then over his shoulder at me. He doesn't even fully turn his head. Just one Cloud flame purple eye that seems to light up from within.

He's a happy go lucky guy. Cool dude. But like all Clouds? Fucking HATES cages. Being or SEEING other imprisoned. Trapped. Cornered and forced to do something against their will. And as the planet's STRONGEST Cloud?

He's always had exactly zero problems telling Reborn to fuck off to his face. Even when it gets him shot at. Everyone knew that.

"Sempai! Calling the GREAT Skull De Mort just to CHAT~♡? I KNEW you loved me BESTEST!" He PROJECTS into the phone, his speaking cadence shifting.

He'd been gregarious, bombastic even, the whole time I'd been on board. The sort of guy you can't help but want to buy street food with and check out some weird local sight you heard about. The guy that turns an event into a PARTY. A get together into a memory you TREASURE. Larger then life and unashamedly so.

But this? THIS was the SHOWMAN.

And this was the Showman being Obnoxious and MEAN.

Loud, intentionally grating voice. No break in the endless flood of mind numbing chatter that went no where. Bellowing cackling that even the best of speakers would be hard pressed to handle. Standing near machines and windows so the background noise garbled EVERYTHING.

Let no one say Clouds are not PETTY.

"Hmmmmm~? Your WHAT? Sempai! Don't be SILLY! You can't OWN people! That's SLAVERY! It's against~...!" He turned, leaning like a rock star of old against some navigation compartment. Casually examining his nails with a MEAN and wolfish smile on his face. "Waaaaa! Don't be maaad~ Don't be MAAAAAD~!! You know I'd NEVER lie to YOU, Sempai! I'd never DARE! I promise I'll keep a look out, m'kay? What? Don't hang up? Sorry! Can-KRRRRSHK! n't quite KKKKKRRRRRSK! Heeeeear yoooouuuuu~☆!"

Click.

He casually tossed his phone to one of his men. Ignored it even as it rang and rang. With an excited clap of his hand, he hopped up, out of his loose legged splay to stride over. According to him? We should eat! Have I had Burmese food? It's delicious! One of his guys just got "into" the whole cooking thing! So everyone is being supportive!

I can't help but laugh. Everyone politely ignores how wet it is, as Skull-sama throws an arm over my shoulders and drags me from the cockpit.

I know I'm not safe. But for now? Fuck it. Good enough. Maybe Skull-sama knows someplace Reborn might not IMMEDIATELY find me. And who knows? When this all blows over? Maybe I should join up with his crew. Reborn can't be THAT obsessed. Right? It was just the initial harmony high. With no Sky to actually bind us, he'll lose interest.

Behind me... the phone rings.

And rings.

And RINGS.

[sendpseuds]

Me: I should work on Perfect Spiral

Brain: Drabbles

Me: No, I really have to—

Brain: Divorced Dad / Mall Goth drabbles

Me: ...fine

.

“Yeah, Dad! Leave him alone.”

It’s far from the first time Anakin has decided to take out his devastating boredom on some poor unsuspecting middle age, middle-class, middle-management looking mother fucker in a stiff button-up and a corporate vest.

Hell, it’s not the first time today.

They come in several flavors.

The financial advisor desperate to relive the glory days, flipping through posters of naked women and pretending not to peruse the enhancement products.

The pharmaceutical salesman with the maturity of a fucking middle schooler, waving around dildos Anakin is sure would make the meathead cry for his mother.

The delusional IT technician who seems to genuinely believe that the girl he's been talking to on Tinder isn't going to freak the fuck out when he pulls out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs on their first date.

Then there's "Dad."

Almost always divorced.

Almost always depressed.

Almost always being dragged around by a horribly hormonal teenage boy with a scowl on his face and a chip on his shoulder.

But in all the time Anakin has been working at this stupid mall, he has never seen a Dad quite like this.

He's never seen a Dad this fucking hot.

"Well, that's definitely unexpected."

Given the age of the kid calling him "Dad," Anakin had assumed the man would be at least in his forties if not pushing fifty but now he's thinking this guy might have knocked up his high school sweetheart.

The man's expression is frustratingly unreadable, though his bright blue eyes are sharp and curious, watching intensely as Anakin shamelessly looks him up and down. Much to his delight and dismay, the man only becomes more and more interesting the longer he looks — the shocks of early silver in his hair and his beard, the tattoos poking out beneath rolled-up shirt sleeves, the well-loved pair of Converse on his feet — and Anakin finds he wants to see a lot more.

Placing his hands flat on the counter in front of him, Anakin hinges forward at the waist, arching his back in a way he knows makes him look like a slut, flashing a slanted smile when the man tilts his head in interest.

"I think I'd rather call you Daddy."

The man's brows shoot up, his mouth falling open with a small surprised gasp and Anakin wants to suck his perfect teeth.

"I— I beg your pardon?"

Oh and if that isn't just the cherry on top.

A voice so silky smooth Anakin wants nothing more than to hear it unraveled.

"My pardon?" he repeats innocently, bending forward even further to rest his forearms on the counter and looking up through long heavy lashes, "I'd beg you for a lot more than that, Daddy."

That seems to get his attention.

"Young man," he startles, eyes wide and cheeks flushed a fluorescent pink, "That is— that is extremely inappropriate."

"Damn," Anakin scoffs, still smiling as he straightens back up and steps out from behind the counter, taking another step forward when the flustered man doesn't move, "I was aiming for downright offensive."

The man looks a bit like a deer in headlights as Anakin comes closer still, but just as he's close enough to reach out and touch, the man seems to snap out of it, taking a small step back and startling when he collides with a display of novelty shot glasses.

"What are you doing?" The man hisses, looking around in a pretty panic, "My son is right—"

"He's not paying any attention to us," Anakin says confidently, taking another step closer and reaching out to play with the zipper on his vest, embroidered with the letters of what Anakin thinks is probably a law firm, drawing the toggle down an inch to reveal more of the tartan shirt beneath, "Got his nose buried in a graphically illustrated sex position guide." He pulls the zipper down another inch, watching as the man's eyes narrow sharply, "Do you think he's looking at the girls or the boys?"

"You're trying to get a rise out of me," he says, his smooth voice low and dangerous and Anakin wants to hear him say so many filthy things, "It won't work."

Whoever this man is, he's clearly never met Anakin Skywalker.

"Oh, I think it might," he purrs, pulling the zipper down the rest of the way, confident even as the man's expression hardens and all Anakin wants to do is break him, "Come back during my lunch break and I guarantee I'll get a rise out of you."

The man quirks a curious brow at that and it feels a whole lot like victory.

"Your lunch break?" The man repeats, his voice frustratingly even yet tantalizingly firm.

"I only get thirty minutes," Anakin explains, hooking two fingers in one of the man's belt loops and trying not to tell him how lame it is to tuck in his shirt, "but that's more than enough time isn't it?"

The man gives no ground as he sucks his own tongue, studying Anakin's face like he can read every lie he's ever told, asking simply, "Enough time for what?"

Well, if you're going to make me say it…

"Enough time for Daddy to fuck me—"

"Hey, Dad?"

The man tries to get away from Anakin so fast he backs into the rack of shot glasses and proceeds to practically jump out of his skin, spinning around with a yelp to steady the rattling display.

"Yes, Korkie!?"

Stupid name, Anakin thinks but does not say, stepping back to give the flustered father some space because, while he absolutely wants to continue making the handsome stranger blush, he has no interest in traumatizing the teen who comes wandering out just a moment later looking hopeful and holding a small box in his hands.

"Can I get a black light for my room?"

The man turns around very slowly, his expression a mixture of panicked horror and exhausted parental exasperation.

The kid looks obliviously innocent.

Anakin can't help but laugh.

"Korkie," the man sighs like he really doesn't want to have this conversation, especially not in front of a stranger, his eyes briefly shifting to glare at a still chuckling Anakin before focusing back on his son, "I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not!?" Korkie exclaims, holding up the box in his hand, waving it in his father's face as if he has no idea what a black light is, "It's only, like, five bucks!"

The man groans softly, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's trying to fight off a migraine or concentrate hard enough to spontaneously combust and avoid this situation all together and Anakin decides he can't simply stand there and let this stupid hot stranger suffer.

"Because spunk glows under black light, champ," Anakin intervenes, watching as two sets of blue eyes snap to his face, father and son going red in unison and Anakin can't help but laugh, "So unless you want Daddy here to know exactly how often you polish your lightsaber—"

The kid disappears so fast Anakin thinks he should be impressed.

The man is still there, still blushing, still staring wordlessly at Anakin who only smiles in return.

Still hot as fuck.

"My break is at two-thirty," he hums, glancing quickly at the back of the store to make sure the kid is still hiding his adolescent embarrassment by the lava lamps before stepping forward to press a kiss to the stunned stranger's cheek, "You can thank me then."

[PART ONE]

[wannab-urs]

Congrats on 1.5k! So deserved!! 🖤

To celebrate, I'd love a drabble. Any Pedro boy will do!

Keep rocking & being awesome, gorgeous! 🖤😘

Thank you so so so much <3 I hope you like this ahhhh

Save a Horse... Or Whatever

Pairing: Jack "Agent Whiskey" Daniels x Reader

Summary: Whiskey got hurt on a mission and he comes into your lab to get patched up.

Warnings: Jack Daniels being allowed to speak, medical shit that is completely bullshitted, one mention of blood, some talk of like digging around in a wound, etc, Whiskey calls you Soda pop and Sugar. Technically you're Agent Soda. Brief descriptions of oral m!receiving. No use of y/n, reader isn't gendered (I don't think?) WC: 900

A/N: I kind of think I'll turn this into a full one shot at some point? This is unbeta'd sorry!

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You really did not expect to end up with Agent Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today. Maybe you’d thought about it before, maybe hoped the opportunity would present itself at some point, but certainly not today. 

–-

He left your field office this morning for what was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, shoot the fuckers, take the briefcase, call in the clean up crew. Simple, easy, something he’d done a hundred times. But somehow it got fucked up six ways from Sunday and he ended up limping his sorry ass into your lab, carrying the brief case but also dragging his left leg. 

“Howdy, Soda Pop. Reckon you could fix up my leg?” He flashes you his trademark sideways smile and a wink, before his face crumples and his legs nearly give out from under him. 

“Fuck, Whiskey! What in the hell happened to you?” You run over to help him, grabbing his thick arm and heaving him onto your examination table. 

“Let’s just say I did not receive a Kentucky welcome.” 

“Clearly. Can you take your jeans off, or am I gonna have to cut you out?” Whiskey smirks at you again and you brace yourself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth. 

“Well now, Soda Pop, thought you’d at least take me out to dinner before you tried to get in my pants. Think I can manage to get naked for ya though, sugar.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Whiskey you’re literally bleeding out,” you chastise him as he pulls off his belt. He winces as he shucks his blood stained jeans down his thighs, panting a little with the effort.

You try desperately not to show how much it turns you on. The guy you’ve harbored a bit of a crush on for years stripping down right in front of you… Who could blame you, honestly?

“Fuck! Soda, I’m too weak to whip a gnat. You’re gonna have to pull ‘em the rest of the way.” He collapses back on the table, jeans sitting not even half way down his thighs. 

You huff an annoyed breath and roll your eyes. “Shoulda just let me cut them off, idiot.” You pull off his ridiculous designer cowboy boots and yank his jeans the rest of the way down. You head over to your storage cabinet and grab some alcohol wipes, a pair of forceps, and a Beta Gel shot. 

Stepping between his parted legs, you clean his wound with the wipes as carefully as you can. His breath hitches in what you assume is pain and he digs his nails into his palms. “Alright, Whiskey, I gotta dig the bullet fragments out now. I can give you a pain shot, but your leg will be numb for the rest of the day. Up to you.” 

He props himself up on his elbows and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Don’t need a shot, sugar. I can handle it.” 

You raise a very skeptical eyebrow, but grab the forceps anyway. As you start the process of removing metal fragments from his leg, Whiskey sucks in a breath and his head falls back between his shoulder blades. You initially think it’s from pain. “Sure you can handle it, cowboy?” 

“Oh yeah, baby doll. I can handle it.” You eye him suspiciously, before trailing your eyes back down to where you’re working on his leg. Something catches your attention though. 

“Jack Daniels,” you say sternly. “Are you fucking getting off on this?” His cock is half hard in his boxer briefs. 

“And what if I was? Pretty girl, fixin’ me up, touchin’ me all over…” He trails off. 

“That why you became an Agent, Whiskey? You got a pain kink?” You resume pulling the pieces of the bullet out of his leg, nearly done now anyway. 

“Just ignore it, sugar. It’ll go away,” his voice is raspy, rough as if he’d been yelling and so low you feel it in your gut. You pull the last bit of the bullet out, grab the beta gel shot, and stab it into his thigh. 

His cock jumps in his underwear and he falls flat back on the table, letting out a slight whimper. 

“And what if I don’t want it to go away, Whiskey?” You don’t move from between his thighs. In fact, you step in closer, trail your hands up the outsides of his thighs and press your thumbs in. 

His head perks up at that and he meets your eyes, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Well then, Soda pop… How’d you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” 

“That’s a terrible line, Whiskey. I really hope you don’t use that often.” 

“Only once or twice, sugar.” You roll your eyes, but hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs anyway. You pull them down and his cock springs out, hitting his belly with a thwack. “Jesus, Jack, how do you walk around with that thing?” 

“Bowlegged,” he deadpans. You snort a laugh and take him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his obscene girth. You dip your head and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the tip and sliding down as far as you can in one smooth motion. 

–-

And that is how you ended up with Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today.  Next time you’re aiming to end up in his bed. 

[fanfictilltheend]

A Trick of the Winter Light (Joel Miller/You)

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/n: To fill the anon tumblr prompt: "I have a Joel x daddy issues!reader request!! Reader sees how good Joel is with Ellie, and it makes her happy and sad at the same time. She's happy Ellie gets to have an amazing father, but she can't stop thinking about what was wrong with herself that her father couldn't love her the way Joel loves Ellie. This causes a bit of trouble in their little family until Joel and ellie confront reader about why she's being distant. I'd like a happy ending where joel comforts reader too!!!"

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, past abusive father mention, daddy issues, referenced past domestic violence, sarah mention, please take care of yourself!!

Summary: Reader comes from an abusive home and seeing Joel and Ellie's good relationship is heartwarming but also confusing at times. When Joel and Ellie get in a snowball fight reader assumes the worst between the two of them and Joel and Ellie comfort you the best way they know how.

Your dad was an asshole. There was no other way of saying it. You can’t even count the number of times that fucker came after you with a belt. This wasn’t the worst of it though, you think. The worst was that that motherfucker basically ignored you your entire childhood except to criticize or beat you. No playing dolls, no showing up to soccer games, no high-fives if you managed to scrape up an A on your report card. Instead, radio silence except for the slamming of fists or the shouting of harsh words. 

To say this didn’t fuck you up would be a lie. But it didn’t just fuck up how you felt about yourself, that could have filled up a novel, no, it also fucked up how you perceived other people’s relationships. And that’s where Joel and Ellie came in.

When Joel and Ellie moved into Jackson it turned your life upside down in the best possible way. You were an assistant teacher in the Jackson high school and met Ellie first. She charmed her way into her heart and that dark and mysterious Joel Miller was soon to follow with prompting from Ellie. Joel had initially been cold to you as he was to everyone (maybe that’s what drew you to him – another emotionally unavailable older man who actively didn’t give a shit about you), but he warmed up to you quickly when he saw how awesome you could be with Ellie. The rest was history and you moved in with Joel and Ellie soon after.

Most days were amazing! You were so impressed with the way Joel fathered Ellie, always being so kind and considerate to her and the way he looked at her like the sun shone out of her ass always melted your heart. But it was a lot to get used to, seeing a real, mostly-functional father-daughter relationship that you just never had. And then sometimes you were transported into the past against your will.

Take today, for example. It was winter and snow covered Jackson like a Christmas card. School had been canceled for you and Ellie and a construction project Joel had been helping with became a snow hazard so he had off too. You and Joel had been reading contentedly on the couch until Ellie raced inside and threw a live snowball right into Joel’s chest. You died laughing until Joel got up and declared war on Ellie who raced back outside, giggling hysterically. You and Joel grabbed coats and gloves and ran out into the front yard and began lobbing snowballs at Ellie who was screaming with glee from behind a snowbank. Everything was fine until Ellie managed to hit Joel square in the face. Joel stopped what he was doing, wiped the melting snow off his face gruffly, got up from the embankment you two had hidden behind, and marched over to Ellie. Ellie’s eyes widened in fear and she ducked down behind her snowbank. In seconds, Joel was upon her and tackled her to the ground behind the large pile of snow and you simply lost it. You didn’t think Joel would ever be capable of hurting Ellie, but you had seen that ferocious look in his eye – that same look you’d seen in your father’s. 

“Joel!” you yelled urgently, running over. “Get the fuck off of her! How the fuck could you–”

But you cut yourself off the second you realized the two were just laughing, rolling around, and play-fighting in the freezing snow. 

Oh, I am an idiot . You thought to yourself, wiping away the tears that had somehow collected in your eyes.

“Chill out, Y/N–” Ellie giggled, turning over to face you. “Oh my god. Shit. Are you crying!? We were just messing around…” she trailed off, looking over at Joel with worry.

Joel was looking up at you now with concern too. He knew about your past, but you didn’t blame him for not connecting the convoluted dots. 

“Shit, darlin’,” he said gently. “Don’t cry. What’s the matter now?”

“I-I-thought–” you began, but suddenly you were crying. You were always a crier. Every time your dad hurt you verbally or physically, you always cried. Like clockwork. “Thought you were m-mad at Ellie. I-I’m so sorry,” you sobbed pathetically, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Ellie looked up at you again with worry. Then she put two and two together. (Always was a smart kid).

“You…you thought he was really gonna hurt me?” She asked, looking up at Joel from her spot on the ground. 

“Kinda,” you nodded, staring down at the snow-drenched earth.

“Joel’d never ever hurt me like that, Y/N,” Ellie said, getting up and taking your hand. “Don’t you know that?”

“Yeah, is the thing,” you replied, looking over into Joel’s eyes. “I know he never, ever would. You’re so lucky to have that, Ellie. I just knew some people who weren’t like that is all. And I sometimes forget how good people can be.”

Joel stood up too and put a large hand on your shoulder.

“Over my dead body, I’d ever hurt either one of you,” he said meaningfully, looking into your eyes and you knew he was telling the truth. 

And because of that, you burst into tears.

“Ellie, kiddo, why don’t you go over to Dina’s for a little?” Joel suggested gently.

Ellie gave you a kind of awkward side hug and nodded and made her way over to Dina’s house, looking back a little uneasily.

Joel mouthed something to her, but you couldn’t tell what because tears had flooded your vision.

“Hey, I dunno who you’re talking about, Y/N,” Ellie shouted from half-way down the block, cupping her mittens around her mouth. “About those asshole people. But I’ll kick their asses for you!”

“Thanks, Els!” you giggled through the tears. She was always looking out for you like that even though she was only fourteen. “You’re a good kid.”

And with that, Ellie disappeared into town with a last nod.

“Uh, why don’t we head on inside and have something hot to drink,” Joel suggested. 

You nodded your head and Joel took your hand so gently, which was so different than how you’d seen him handle a weapon on patrol that your heart broke a little more, unsure how you got lucky enough to find someone who handled you so tenderly. 

***

You both sat at the kitchen counter with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate as the sun got lower in the winter sky.

“Gonna tell me what that was all about?” Joel asked, putting his hand on yours.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” you replied, taking your hand away.

Joel frowned. 

“Not to me it ain’t,” he responded seriously, his brown eyes meeting yours. “Nothing you say is stupid. Hell, half the time I’ve gotta look up words you just slip into normal conversation.”

You grinned at that. This was Joel after all. You knew you could tell him pretty much anything and he wouldn’t judge you, had probably done fifty times worse. 

“You just…had this angry look in your eye when Ellie threw that snowball at you. It reminded me of how my dad used to look at me before he’d…get physical. In my mind, I know you would never, ever hurt Ellie. But it’s like my body hasn’t caught up to my thoughts and it’s still a little girl, living at home with a terrifying asshole.”

“I get that,” Joel said after a moment. 

“You do?”

“Sure. Sometimes…sometimes my body still feels like it’s holding Sarah the day I lost her even though it’s been twenty years.”

Joel rarely mentioned Sarah so you were honored he felt comfortable enough to bring her up. You put your hand back on his and rubbed his calloused skin tenderly.

“Never’d hurt you or Ellie though. Over my dead body, alright?” Joel continued meaningfully, reaching out a large hand to rub your back. “But your dad? That asshole? Like Ellie said, I’d kick his ass six ways to Sunday.”

You snort into Joel’s flannel-covered shoulder, trying to imagine it. Joel would rip that asshole limb from limb with his bare hands, you were sure of it. You’d heard stories of what he was capable of, had seen glimpses of it on patrols. Ellie would be more than happy to assist. Come to think of it, maybe you’d get a kick or punch in edgewise of your own.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked slowly, your foot tangling with his own. 

“‘Course, doll,” He replied with a kind smile.

“This may not mean a lot coming from me, seeing as I don’t know much better, but I really do think you’re an amazing father.”

“To me, angel, that means the world,” Joel told you with a genuine grin.

He leaned over and kissed you on the top of your forehead and then between your lips. You kissed him back lovingly.

“Your dad didn’t know what the fuck he was missing with someone like you,” Joel murmured low against your ear.

You grinned.

“Love you, Joel,” you told him, pulling him in for a hug.

“Love you too, babygirl. Never gonna let anyone lay a finger on you ever again.”

A/n: Any feedback would be much appreciated! Lmk prompts or suggestions or if you would like to be tagged! Thanks for reading!! ❤️

Masterlist

[the-light-finds-its-way]

Mom got out of ICU today, and put into a normal hospital room. My family went to go see her, and as for myself and my siblings, it was basically the first time in 3 weeks that we'd seen her.

She was covered in giant tender bruises from head to toe. Thankfully, only 2 IVs were in versus the original 7, and she was down to one pole that held the bags, while the rest were hooked to the bed. The blood clot in her leg has grown, and is breaking up at last, or so we assume. But mom can't walk because it hurts so bad. She has mesh in her lungs now to prevent the clots from reaching them again, which will kill her if they do. Additionally, she's on oxygen for the time being. And, there's a chance when she comes home, that she'll have to remain on oxygen tanks, and if that's the case then nobody is sure how long. But I've got this awful gut feeling telling me mom will be on the tanks for the rest of her life... I don't know, and have no way of knowing, but that's just what my stupid gut is saying to me. It'll be minimally 3-5 more days before she's released to go home. It could be more, and something inside also tells me it's going to be longer. But mom says she's doing the best she has been since the first surgery 3 weeks ago. Her nurses are really nice, super sweet, and they playfully poked (hehe) at my needle weenie self who had to turn away when they drew blood from her.

My anxiety didn't help when a $86 bill went through on my bank account that's already overdrawn by Gods only know how much... I'll be damned lucky if I make $150 for this paycheck. And an artist I commissioned back in March last year for a November finishing time on a piece, was late and is now almost finished in January. I'll have to pay him the other $175 soon, and I don't know when, and if I'll even have a single dollar to spare by then... There's another draft I have coming, on the 16th, for the retirement fund my father forces me to pay into unless I want to give him $100 for literally no reason, minimally once a month but possibly more, instead of the $75 for the fund once a month. So I go for the fund. And then, I have to somehow pay for my therapy appointment in another 10 days as well. I'm really not sure if I can do all this. I ditched college to work more, and as soon as I did, they cut me down to one day a week for the next 4 weeks, and there are no people I can cover because everyone is scrambling with trying to get more than 25 hours per week. Fuckers. Try living off 8 a week, when you just told the boss you're free all day every day at any time, and they won't even schedule you for 1/3 of what everyone else is working part time, let alone full time.

I'm so scared, so lost... I was hoping to get a ticket to go see Blind Guardian in May, but they're selling fast and I'm not sure when I'll ever have the money, if I will have the money, to get one in time... Not like I've waited 9 years to go see them live for the first time ever... I somehow have to save $32 for a train ticket as well by mid February, to go to the city for something I'd planned 7 months ago. And then, I planned a trip with friends which I may not be able to do if this keeps going downhill with my money... I already have to pay for a con we are going to as well in September. And I'm just... Fucking distraught. I planned my entire year around the fact that I'd be working full time and get more money. And work kicked my ass with a giant fuck you immediately upon me making those plans.

Fuck my life. Give me my healthy mom back, and $1000. Please... I'm fucking desperate and broken...

[harmonyckrs]

Day 9 of Twisted Pleasantview: Moving In with the Oldies

THE PREVIOUS DAY

NAME: Coral Oldie

LIFE STAGE: Elder

STATUS: ALIVE, FUNCTIONAL

SPECIAL NOTES: The current version of her is a much different person than the woman who raised Mary Sue.

--

Dear Diary,

Dad came back from the hospital with twins! He also decided to turn my room into the nursery, so I responded by leaving and moving in with Grandma and Grandpa. Angela seemed kind of upset about both of our decisions, but I refuse to sleep on the couch in my own home.

Grandma said I could take Mom's old room, which has remained mostly untouched. It's a pretty basic looking room with beige furniture and sheets (exactly what I'd expect from Mom) but I noticed an easel and a pottery wheel inside. I never really thought Mom would be the type to care about art, but now that I think about it she did get upset at Dad that one time he called art a "waste of time" when Angela showed interest in it. I kind of assumed that was just another "Angela gets whatever she wants" moment lol

Grandpa also invited over Mr. Specter and Mrs. Specter, and I found out he and Mr. Specter used to be business partners. Mrs. Specter kept staring at me as I was about to catch the bus for school, which was really creepy. At least the other two Specters weren't there, though I vaguely remember Ripp saying that he knew Ophelia and that she was pretty chill before they lost contact with each other. I'd ask myself, but I do not want to get any closer to those fuckers than I have to.

Thinking about what Ripp mentioned prompted me to ask him about the Specters again once I saw him at school. He said he didn't know much about the other three, but that he used to have a crush on both Ophelia and her husband. The husband, a half-alien man named Johnny, apparently died in a house fire alongside the rest of his family, which included Johnny's little sister, both of his parents, and his uncle.

The uncle part repeated itself in my head as Ripp showed me a photo of Johnny, who bears an unusual resemblance to Vidcund. A part of me wonders if they're related somehow, but I'm not sure if it would be a good idea to ask him or Pascal. They've made their opinions on the Specters pretty clear, so I don't think bringing up Ophelia would be a smart decision even if she wasn't one of the members who screwed them over.

Once I got home, Dirk called me to tell me that Dustin was acting weird today, with him levitating and muttering stuff about mirrors to other worlds. My dumbass then realized I never bothered to talk to Puck, so I guess I'll have to wait until Monday when school starts again. In my defense there was a lot going on today. Grandma also told me that I could add some of my own stuff into Mom's room, and Grandpa helped me install the metal scones I took down from my room before I left.

Also I decided to try painting! It's a lot of fun, though a lot of the paint Mom has is way too bright. I'm going to go shopping for some darker colors tomorrow.

THE NEXT DAY

[catierambles]

that's not how asexuality works

I'm going to assume you're referring to my breakdown of Null, the Incubus!Charles Brandon thing I posted yesterday in which the OFC Anna is ace

Got news for you, bud

That's how it works for me

TMI under the cut

I don't experience sexual attraction. I don't see an aesthetically pleasing man and go "I want to climb that fucker like a tree", I may think they're nice to look at, but it goes absolutely no further than that. I'm not sex repulsed. I can masturbate, I can have orgasms, I can even watch porn (although I tend to stick to 3d animation porn, real person porn is just...blech no thank you). Can I have sex? I have no doubt I could. Have I? Not yet and maybe not ever and you know what? that's perfectly fine with me.

"But you're thirsty for--"

What's your point? My thirst is not indicative of my sexuality. If Henry Cavill showed up on my doorstep today and was like "let's bang" I'd have him drug tested and breathe into a breathalyzer because goddamn, he's not in his right mind and is on something. If he showed up on my doorstep today and was like "let's go out, build a relationship based on trust and understanding, and see what happens from there with absolutely no expectation of getting naked" I'd be all "yes please, and thank you". Point is, that's never going to happen. He's never going to show up on my doorstep. My thirst for Henry Cavill and his various characters exists because that will never happen. It's unrealistic. It's unobtainable. Lbrh, he doesn't know I exist, and if he did, I highly doubt he'd care, and you know what? That's also just fine with me. It's fantasy. Nothing more, nothing less.

There are many facets of asexuality. Like any other sexuality, there's a spectrum with fancy names and whatnot. That's where I fall on the spectrum. I can't speak for others, I can only speak for me.

[finsterhund]

Jesus fucking christ the creepy neighbor situation somehow gets worse.

So I've been too scared to leave the house on my own, this fucker has set back over five years of work on my progress with agoraphobia. Swear to fuck. But turns out she has been biding her time watching my roommate take Scott out for several days. She's obviously aware of how the schedule was Scott's evening walks at 9PM. She waited until today before doing anything, which is a smart move if she assumed I'd feel comfortable going back to doing it after several days, and then come 9PM she had her door wide open and was HIDING, STANDING THERE JUST INSIDE HER FUCKING ENTRYWAY SILENTLY WAITING as if to fucking pounce on me if I was alone. We were going to the grocery store and thus changing up the routine and when she saw I wasn't alone walking Scott she immediately went and shut her door when we got in the car. Fucking christ. I am so legitimately distressed by this. I cannot stress this enough she had her door wide open and was HIDING in such a blind spot that I didn't see her except from behind and out of the corner of my eye when I quickly walked past.

So yeah. My roommate is now going to walk Scott for the foreseeable future. This fucker is 100% trying to catch me alone and vulnerable for confrontations. This is a worse version of what she did when she harassed me a few days ago.

I know I shouldn't be scared. I could easily win in a life or death altercation. But my PTSD brain and such doesn't work that way.

I am scared to be in my own fucking home outside my own front door going to walk my dog or do laundry. Roommate suggests I go to the laundry building at 4AM. I don't even think that will work.

This is causing me so much psychological harm I am just beside myself.

We are going on a camping trip in September and afterwards I will be visiting my friend in Alberta and I am so fucking looking forward to being away from this deranged fucker for even just a little while. Want to move so fucking bad. I hate it here. Everything is either a painful memory of my beloved Cazza or a source of impending doom and danger. Want to fucking die. What kind of depraved cunt does this!?

I am fully anticipating mail tampering and laundry tampering may become an issue also. Would not put it past this fucker.

[the-whisperer-in-darkness]

I get really off the fucking bat comments from people who assume because I worked on their pieces means we're friends. Some instances I'd say maybe 1% of customers I actually feel like I could talk to outside of the work, so not a lot and I'm being generous. This guy messaged me last night, fucking Christmas, that he bought me a darkthrone shirt??? I've not spoken to this person since fucking September after he bitched at me for going to spend time with my fiancé and seeing Swans. So he bought me a shirt? I'm confused and he hasn't sent it, he doesn't know where I live, he only knows I live on the west coast because of time differences. But he just "I bought you a darkthrone shirt for Christmas" which leads me to question a lot of things. I'm leaving the whole "I'm sure your fiance wouldn't xyz to you" part, which in fact he does do xyz all the fucking time.

Obviously I'm not taking the fucker. I think the absolute fuck not. I don't care if the previous owner was Fenriz. Gross. But I wonder if he even got the right size or did that whole assumption because I'm fat I need a 3x or something. Mind you I can ask these things he doesn't have a Tumblr this is all through email. I've long since blocked him on discord after I got the final "yeah the order is good" and the final assurances so I didn't have to deal with him again. But he's assumed my size, what I like, and demanded me to respond to this gesture? I fucking hate everything right now and I just feel fucking low on this. Part of me finds it comical but the other part of me finds it extremely vile. I'm not attractive by any stretch of the meaning and I know I'm not. This isn't a pity statement. I just know this means something more considering he's already insulted me here and there. But goddamn this makes me feel gross. I wanted to catch up with my friend today but now I just kinda want to hide all fucking day.

I never gave this person any impression of anything about me other than I'm an artist. I'm serious. Im engaged, I clearly like swans. My discord is bleak and has no valid information on me other than my Spotify, twitch(so it's valid in streamers chats), Instagram for my store. I've given this person bare minimum information about me and the rest he's wildly assumed. I fucking hate my life right now.

[dzpenumbra]

1/7/23

I had a lot of positive things I was carrying into today. I had momentum. I had motivation. I had confidence. Even despite being woken up like 4 times by my upstairs neighbors. I got up, I stopped myself from "helping" some local person realize that their crusade against the entire Goodwill chain was really because they were upset that the branch manager was rude to them when they denied their donations a week after new years, at the busiest and most stressful time of year. I didn't comment, I walked away. I was better for it.

I did my yoga. Brutal. I felt weak. I was weak. I fell over. I shook. I felt faint. But I made it through it. And I reminded myself that I've done 30 day challenges like this every year since the pandemic started, and every year I complete them. This will be no exception. Day 5, done.

I showered. I listened to an album that I haven't had good associations with since college. That two broken, damaged, unfair relationships ruined for me. And I vowed to reclaim that album. Its beauty should not belong to pain alone. It deserves to be appreciated, not feared. And I made it through the whole thing.

I got my TV. I paid 50 bucks for some woman to drive the thing 8 minutes to my door and have me take it out of her fucking car because she "dislocated her shoulder". The frustration of this didn't really hit until the walk back to the apartment. I was fucking awake anyway. I was up and moving anyway. I was just so fucking frustrated with myself. All because of this stupid trauma and anxiety shit swarming around me because I have a fucking wolf at the door every goddamn day. And I'm baiting the fucker to my door. And I answer the fucking door like almost every goddamn day. Like an idiot. I'll clarify in a second.

I sorted boxes. Finally. I took my momentum from getting my TV and transmuted it into sorting my recycling, breaking down boxes and organizing. The plan being, when the TV was done, I could break down that box too. Then I can load all the boxes into the cart and bring them up to the recycling and get it over with. Keep the ball rolling, always keep the ball rolling. Thats my strat, it's literally the only way I get shit done. What happened, you ask? Oh, I'll get there, don't worry. Don't wanna glaze over this bittersweet gem.

I got two simultaneous texts when I was in the shower. Surprising, because I never get texts. I mean that. I never get texts. So I heard the sound and I legit assumed it was part of the music. One was my mom, asking if I needed any support today. The other was my sister in law. My sister in law was letting me know that she and my brother and nephew (who I haven't even met yet, he's getting pretty close to a year old now) were nearby and wanted to see if it was cool if they dropped by. My place is an absolute warzone. It makes me wonder if they've ever really... even seen what any of my houses look like. I honestly don't think they have. I mean, the entire perimeter of my main room is packed cardboard boxes full of my possessions. I have barely any furniture. I look like I moved in yesterday. It's been over a month. It's humiliating. And it's really not kid-safe. And the worst part, it's 100% a mental health thing. And I really shouldn't have to explain myself. But if I don't it is kinda unfair to other people to blindside them with this when they show up.

I let my sister in law know that my place was a mess and... well... my confidence was high so I said if they wanted to they could feel welcome to drop by. I'd swallow that pill for the chance to finally meet my nephew. Here's the part that I didn't really process, that I'm just processing now. They were in town meeting a potential babysitter. You know, looking for child care. While I'm 20 minutes away, unemployed, have trouble leaving my house and I haven't even met my nephew yet. And I have several months experience babysitting my "former godchild" at the exact same age. And I'm just... not considered. Again, I would wager because of mental health. Or just... not getting to know me. No clue. Fucking odd that I'm not even considered for dogsitting, I just lost my fucking dog 6 months ago and it doesn't even pop into their heads that maybe I might miss it a bit? That maybe 10 years of experience raising the same breed of dog alone might be enough to qualify me? And maybe I could use some cash? Because I'm technically unemployed and I have no income? Like... I'm not kidding... it's really fucking weird that the babysitting thing... I used to get my goddaughter to nap and keep myself entertained, our compromise, was to put on Twilight Zone, the original series. She'd conk right out and I'd have something cool to watch. And now, this shit just feels like I'm straight up in an episode of it. I mean that genuinely, it's a big part of why I can't even smoke weed right now. Because I start to feel like I'm actually in some kind of fantasy series or something, that this is fiction, that some trickster god is fucking with me, or aliens or interdimensional beings or something. Because how could this be fucking real life?!

Glad I missed that (sarcasm), because besides overcoming the yoga obstacle... that was the best thing that happened today. I started setting up the TV and I was concerned about putting it on my glass-top coffee table. I called my mom to get her opinion. It started okay. Then I started setting up the TV. The setup stuff was kinda in broken english, which is always... it kinda feels like a bad sign? Like maybe corners were cut? You know? And a little anxiety about that whole "maybe this is was a bad investment, maybe i picked the wrong TV" came up. But I squelched it pretty quick. Then it came time to get my TV connected to the wireless router. And guess who hasn't entered his wireless password in... oh god... over 2 years? Because my PC and Xbox were hardwired and my phone/laptop just autosaved. Guess. It was me. I forgot my wifi password. But hey, check it out, Xfinity is super convenient, right? I remembered that their app lets you just pull up the app on your phone and hit a button and you can get right into your router, don't even have to do any of that admin browser entry shit. So I pop open the app and log in. 2-factor hits me, of course. Then I'm in and my fucking account says "INACTIVE". Yep. And the address is my old address. Yep.

So I try to get my mom to get into her account, in case... for some mysterious reason... it was set up in her name. She forgot her password. She tried to get me to give her my login and my password, for some reason. After like 10 minutes, I made it pretty fucking clear that I really do not feel comfortable reading out my login and my password out loud with paper-thin walls in my apartment building. It just started off with that goddamn tone where it was like... she was just doing whatever the fuck she wanted and she "knew best". Like what the fuck do you even need my password for? I'm literally logged in right now. You need YOUR password. Can you tell I'm angry? Well stuffing that down and repressing it for 3 fucking hours of pulling teeth will do that. Every time I asked for something, every time I asked a question, just fucking goddamn stonewalled. Like, I shit you not, I asked 4 consecutive questions and she flat-out acted as though the Men in fucking Black came in and neurolyzed her. Like I never even spoke words. I had to check to make sure I wasn't muted. But she was straight up fucking ignoring me and dodging. And I'd bring attention to it. "Hey, I've asked you a like 3 questions now and you haven't answered, can I get that information please?" and just... deflection. Dodging.

So why the fuck did I stick around this? Why was my hand glued to the goddamn lit stove? Because I do not have access to my own internet account. If anything goes wrong with it, I'm fucked. I don't have the password, it's not in my name, if I call support I strongly doubt they'd give me access without confirmation from the account holder. Because she owns that part of my life. And this has been done "for my convenience" for almost 2 decades. I got my rent out from her control. I got a few other things out too. But my internet is apparently in her name. And my insurance. And my car insurance. And my car itself. Which is why my car has been sitting idle in a dealership lot not being repaired, they haven't even ordered the parts. And they haven't even spoken to me. Because her name is on the fucking car. I'm 30 goddamn 6. I didn't choose this. I've literally known no other way. This is how things have always been. I mean that. I had no idea this wasn't normal until really recently. And I really feel like I'm in some kind of Britney Spears conservatorship or something, I don't know. It scares me, because I endured some really fucking abusive shit tonight. Like having the 3 hour dragging feet, power struggle, making shit difficult bullshit being blamed on me because I have memory problems. That I literally can't do anything about. That hurt me more than anyone else. I actually have to leave notes around the house for myself to remember to get basic things done. It's not an easy life when you live fucking alone. Shit falls through the cracks every goddamn day, every hour, it feels like.

I had to hang up again. I was very clear dozens of times that what was happening was not okay, and that it's a repeat of the same fucking problem over and over, and I was just told over and over that I brought it on myself. That it was warranted because she was simply "defending herself". And she wasn't even trying to control herself. Not even attempting. She was just... right. And I was wrong, and "aggressive" (not stressed, not frustrated, not having his problem be taken over by a geriatric woman who was not welcomed and asked several times to stop, "aggressive"), because that justifies her anticipatory "defense".

I get stressed with a problem. The "supporting" person misreads my stress as aggression towards them. The "supporting" person does not verify this assumption, but acts on it by "defending" aka retaliating. I get my ass beat by my "support" for being legitimately stressed out about a real problem I'm having. Totally healthy.

Now I guarantee that at least 2 of my neighbors heard my side of the argument. Oh fuck, I almost forgot the best part! Oh so my dad decides to barge into her room and just start talking to her when she was on the phone, and I asked her to relay a message to him and guess what? He fucking responded. Because I was on goddamn speakerphone the whole time. Yep. So next time, I'm super tempted to put her on speakerphone so that my neighbors can witness the entire reality show. Not just think I'm a complete asshole. Like I just fucking moved in and already it's like... fuck. AAAGHGHHHH.

My depression was at an all time high before this. It's been escalating super rapidly. I've been very open about this. And this is the second brutal beating in 3 days. I had one day of recovery. ONE GODDAMN DAY. And now. I feel like I've been up for a week straight. I've gotten one good night's rest in 2 fucking weeks. I feel like Christian Bale in The Machinist. I mean that. The skin on my face feels... tight and clammy. My cheeks feel sunken. My posture is like bullets are flying over my head at all times. I have bags under my eyes. I am constantly tense and in pain at all times.

So I reached out at 11PM, I called. Stupid, but I wanted to communicate clearly. I left a message. "Congratulations, you broke me. I need a list of all of my accounts that are in your name by 4PM tomorrow." I can't be the monk anymore. I'm too weak. I'm not going to lash out. I'm not going to explode. But I'm not hiding the fucking truth anymore. My will was broken today. Over a fucking wifi password. OVER A FUCKING WIFI PASSWORD. AND THE PASSWORD WAS FUCKING PASSWORD, OKAY?!?! AAGGGHHH. I am fucking human just like all of you, I have feelings too, very very strong ones. And this is the extent of how much I'm willing to express this one. Suffering and anger swirling together because my ability to live my life is being blockaded by a control freak who constantly shames me for not "being independent". I'm broken. And having a moment of weakness. But even in that moment, I have the clarity to know exactly what I need to fucking do. I need to be free. I. Need. To. Be. Free.

No more punishment because I didn't phrase things the way they wanted. No more looming threats. No more dangling friendship, bonding, affection, and social support... and making me pay prices like this and come out with less than I started. No more weaponizing my own mental health struggles against me. The only reason I dealt with this today was because that account is not in my name, I cannot legally access it and I don't even know where to start with getting legal counsel. I even tried to get the account changed to my phone number so I can change the billing info myself and access the router, talked to some dude in fucking India to get it set up and they didn't do it. I've already had my power, heat and cable shut off from missed bill payments and shit at my old place because of this "help" and "support" I'm getting. Just because I've never done this before and I have executive functioning struggles doesn't mean this is a guaranteed failure if I take these responsibilities on. It's scary as fuck to take on so much shit I've never done when I'm like... on the edge and super overwhelmed already, but I have to. Because paying this price?! Paying this price, I'm gonna be dead before I hit 50.

I'm not even leaving the house! The primate graphic novel idea was a great inspiration, but also a really great therapeutic tool, and I had a vision come to me yesterday of primate Me cowering inside the door and a bunch of gigantic beasts gnashing their teeth outside. Guess what? They ain't outside. They're in my phone. They're in my eardrums. They're crawling into my mind. Almost every single day. I can lock my doors, I can barricade the windows. And they still get in. Because I welcome them in. Because I, from the bottom of my soul, with every ounce of optimism I have, try to keep faith that people are redeemable. That they can change. And I give so fucking much of myself, my entire life, to support that effort. And I just get shit on for it.

So, fuck it. I gave it 3 years of trying. GG. Call me when you find God.

I found myself having a very dark thought earlier, and I want to be completely honest about it so I can not just shrug it off. So I can process it and move forward with it in mind. My cat is going to be 17 in about 2 months. She has osteoarthritis, hypothyroidism and kidney disease. She's a scrappy motherfucker, she always has been, but I'm afraid she may not have much time left. My dog is already dead, she died in July. I have no friends. You know what they say, "you can tell who your real friends are when the chips are down"? Yeah. Sad, but true. I have no family. Not really. My father was never a father. My brother flipped out on me because I asked him if he wanted to make music with me, and if he wanted a free art lesson while my landlords came over to inspect my house, to get my mind off shit, to distract me. My other brother hasn't had a real conversation with me since early high school, and communicates with me extremely rarely through his extroverted wife. That's all I got folks. So... my cat is really all I have left. Because I have to really strongly consider that my mom cannot actually stop herself from crippling me.

So what happens when my cat dies? All I will have is my art, my writing and my music. And without financial support from my parents, I'm pretty damn sure that's going down the drain too. No way I'm paying these bills on that kind of salary. So... yeah. That might be curtains. I mean. What kind of life is it really if I can't be myself? If I can't fulfill my purpose? How is that living? In this life, yes, I suffer greatly. Regularly. Likely shaving years off of my life. But at least I get to pursue my passions. When I'm not just perpetually recovering from the last brutal emotional beating. With the world the way it is now, with no connections in any field, not even any contacts... I don't see it happening. I see myself working somewhere, anywhere that I can. Just to get money. Just to keep food in the cupboards that are already bare. Just to keep a roof over my head. I will not be living. I will be surviving. And I honestly don't really know if that's a life I want to live, to be honest. I can't live a fulfilling life, I cannot fulfill my life's purpose, if I am merely surviving. The gifts that I have can not function when I am in survival mode. Ask Rimworld, they added it as an an actual game mechanic. Inspiration comes when good mood is sustained. Mental break comes when bad mood is sustained. Two sides of the same coin. I will be reduced to a miserable laborer, grinding the days away until I find the sweet release of death. And that's not a life, that's not living. So, I'm keeping that in mind.

This is insanely dark. I want to apologize, I feel compelled to. But I'm tired of apologizing for my own pain. I just need to get my pain out a bit, because I currently don't have any other coping mechanisms besides distraction and yoga, and I'm sore. Weed will make this worse, I've thought it over a dozen times and I really believe that right now. Drinking is not available, but I'm starting to strongly consider it. Prescriptions are not a thing for at least a month. Cigarettes have been dangling in my peripheral view for days now, I can hear their siren's song every day. "We can solve all your problems, my dear." For a price.

So, this is where my stress has to go.

I don't know what to do. I don't even know if I can sleep. It's 3:30 again, I'm exhausted, but I'm fucking terrified. And just... wounded.

But hey. At least I broke down some of those pesky cardboard boxes, huh? I'm sure cleaning my house will make shit right as fucking rain.

I've tried so hard to be a beam of pure light for as many others around me as I can be. And that light is a barely flickering ember right now. Even Jedi have their limits.

[fireinmywoods]

Nothing quite compares to the lightning strike of existential despair that hits you when you’re editing an 18k+ story, do a quick check to make sure you’re not reusing a particular word too many times, and see this pop up.

[milqueandsugar]

YOU PIQUED MY INTEREST! an angry jealous phil nsfw headcanons??? my goodness??? are you trying to kill me milque? i'd love to see that! -🧃

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Warnings: ! NSFW !

Genre: SMUT

| Jealous Philza NSFW Headcannons |

Assuming this takes place after my previous post

When he takes you home he's both utterly amazed by you, and determined to show both you and Quackity that he isn't an old man

The second you step foot into your shared home he swoops you up into his arms, pressing a few kisses to your face as he Carries you upstairs

"Oh? I see what's going on here"

"Would you be up for it? Sex I mean"

You giggle and peck his lips

"I know what you mean! And yes, I would"

Dude even when he's preparing to fuck you into oblivion hes being romantic!

Caressing your skin as he strips you of your clothes, kneading the soft flesh with his hands as he leaves trails of kisses and soft bites down your chest

Sigh, we swoon

"Mind if I'm a bit rougher today, my love?"

"Not in the slightest"

Asks for consent for everything he does, looking for your facial expressions

He is very very rarely rough with you and doesn't want to scare or hurt you :(

Preps you very well, again, if he ever hurt you during sex he'd be so ashamed, he liked to care for you!

Fingers you rather roughly to prep you

Despite his caring nature this is for his hurt pride after all

And the way you clench around him and scream his name like that only encourages him to be a little roughed with you

When you've cum at least once he"'ll pull his fingers out of you only to lick your cum clean of his fingers because he kinky like that

When he does fuck you ooooh boy

His mouth is latched to your neck leaving hickeys gallour as he rails you into the mattress

His wings switching between curling around you protectively or being splayed out with confidence

His gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he pulls you against him with each thrust, trying to get even deeper then he already is

If theres a place in you he hasn't reached before he will tonight because he has zero mercy

Absolutely soaks up your moans, will do absolutely anything to make you even louder then you are

Speaking of moans that fucker is right in your ear the whole time

"Fuck, fuck, fuuck your so tight"

"Loud.. louder y/n scream for me"

"Yes, yes, fuck-!"

"Haaa-hah yes, god yes"

Makes sure you cum at least three times before he even thinks about stopping

Hell if he still isn't satisfied with your pleasure he might finger you through another two

Once he's satisfied with your overstimulation he'll slip his cock back into your sore hole and cock warm you the rest of the night

You just look so pretty sitting on his dick he cant help it!

Play your cards right and you might get another round of rough fucking ;)

[writingtheafterglow]

Under The Mistletoe

(Part Two -> Not Hot )

Warnings: angst, drinking (all are 18, they're in England obviously so they can all drink, lmfao), swearing, suggestive, some sensitive topics (like insecurities), and Tom being an asshole 90% of the time.

Summary: Y/N and her friends attend a party but, it's there that she finds out the ugly truth about her friendship.

a/n: This chapter is kind of sad? It's the second chapter and there's already angst, I know but, hey...It'll get better...maybe. Anywho, enjoy bitchessss!!!!!

❆ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Taglist | Navigation | Playlist ❆

"You're wearing it." Leigh Anne tells me. She was currently holding up a pink bra top and a black leather mini skirt. Perrie was eyeing a pair of black boots (with high ass heels on them), I'm assuming to go with Leigh's horrid outfit. We were at the shopping mall picking out party outfits. Oh, did I not mention who's party? Fucking Tom's. He asked us to come yesterday and, of course, the girls said yes...

"Hey ladies...oh and Y/N" He greets. Okay...what the fuck?!

"So I'm having an early Christmas party at my place, do you guys want to come?" By "Christmas Party" he must mean a regular party, with a few shirtless Santa's.

"No"

"Yes" Me and the girls say at the same time. Pez and Leigh turn and glare at me before turning back to Tom.

"Yes, we will be there." Leigh tells him.

"Great. See you there, cuties...oh and you two Y/N." I sarcastically laugh before giving him the middle finger.

And now here we are. They're trying to make me look like a fucking malibu barbie. I'd rather not.

"No, Leigh. One, it's gonna be cold as fuck, and Two, I don't have the body for that." I say before turning back to the shirt rack.

"Are you kidding me right now?! Y/N/N you're hot as hell!!! You need to show off that body you have more often because, girl, it's even got me hypnotized." Leigh encourages with a smirk. I giggle and turn to her.

"You're just saying that." Looking down at my feet, I start feeling out of place. Perrie and Leigh are gorgeous, could be models, and I'm just...me. Why can't I look like them?

"No y/n she's not. Holy shit you do have the body for it, maybe even more. Even Holland wanted to tap that yesterday." Perrie adds. I almost throw up at that last sentence. Tom? Yeah hell no.

"Okay, Pez, I beg you to never talk about Tom Holland and Sex in the same sentence ever again." Lord, I was cringing at the thought. I go back to flipping through shirts.

"Oh come on, you know we're right." Leigh teases. I glare at them before my eyes meet a silk red tank top. It was flowy and didn't look too revealing but, it still showed off some skin. I can feel my best friend's gazes land on it as well.

"Leigh Anne, go put those back...I think she found something good." Perrie directs in excitement. She wasn't wrong actually, I think I've found something to wear to that little fuckers party.

And you know what...I'm going to look hot as fuck....

❆ ❆ ❆

My leather jacket was zipped as we pulled up to the Holland's house. Snow covered the front of the house and it looks like Mrs. Holland really decorated the front of the house a lot this year. To be fair, I haven't actually been here in forever. Perrie caught a stomach bug yesterday, don't know how, and she couldn't come with us today. So now it was just me and Leigh. I wasn't complaining though, at least I had her.

We linked arms and then walked through the door. As soon as we stepped inside, the smell of alcohol and musty teens hit our faces. I scanned the room to see where Tom was at, to avoid him of course. Also looking for Liam. All of the sudden a familiar blonde-haired boy steps in front of us. I was correct, he was wearing nothing but red trousers and a Santa hat.

"Leigh Anne, hey. Where's Perrie?" Harrison asks. Are you kidding me? He seriously only greeted Leigh? I've known him for years, for fucks sake.

"Hey Haz, she caught a stomach bug and had to stay home but, don't worry, y/n's here" Leigh responded, shaking my shoulders. Harrison turns to me then looks me up and down.

"Oh sorry y/n, didn't see you there but, hey, you look good." He tells me with a sorry smile. I roll my eyes before making my way over to the kitchen to get a drink. I push past a group of girls grinding on each other and a couple about to fuck each other on the table before I get to the kitchen. Grabbing a red cup, I begin to fill it up to the brim with vodka. Was I about to get hella drunk? Yes. Did I care? No.

All I wanted to do was forget about Harrison, forget about Tom, even forget about Perrie and Leigh Anne for a moment. I just needed a break, and what better way to get that than drinking my problems away? Before the cup could touch my lips, a hand appears and takes it away from me.

"No, no, no, y/n/n. You should not be drinking this much. You're gonna end up fucking a random stranger by the end of the night." Tom says before pouring it all out. What a fucking waste of vodka, good vodka too.

"Um excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are? You can't tell me how much I can or can't drink. And why do you care if I hook up with a stranger, huh?" I'm almost screaming. Seriously though, who does he think he is?

"Sorry, I'm just looking out for you. I do care you know...we were best friends remember?" The AUDACITY of this boy.

"Okay first of all, just cause you "care" doesn't mean you get to dictate my fucking actions, Thomas. Second, you're right, we were friends. Not anymore, so get the fuck away from me." I reply all in one breath.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But before I go can I ask you something?"

"What?!" I say throwing my hands up in frustration.

"Can I get Leigh Anne's number?" He smirks. Alright, that's it! I push him up against the sink and get closer to him.

"What. The. Actual. Fuck?! NO, YOU CAN'T! WANNA KNOW WHY?! BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT FUCKBOY WHO THINKS EVERY GIRL WANT'S HIM. WELL, NEWS FLASH, NOT ALL OF THEM DO!!!" I yell at him, all while slapping his chest. He looks taken back by my actions and to be honest I am too. I have zero clue where all of that came from but, oh well.

"Chill, y/n/n...I was just joking." Tom raises his hands up in defense.

"I could care less. You know if you want it, then go ask her, I'm done being your fucking carrier pigeon. God damn. You know for once I would like a guy to ask about me." I say, tears filling my eyes.

"You do realize why guys don't, right?" Tom says, taking a sip from his cup.

"Why? And don't you dare say anything dick-ish." I ask, pointing at him warningly.

"Well it's because you're kind of like the...how do I put this...approachable one..." He covers his chest, bracing himself for me to hit him again.

"What does that mean?" I asked, anger boiling up again.

"Okay so...don't take this the wrong way but...you're kind of the...not so pretty best friend...the one not a lot of guys want...the one guys can talk to...about you're two hot best friends." He says. It was like I just got punched in the face. I felt a tear roll down my face and without even thinking I slap his drink out of his hands and run out of the kitchen.

I hear him calling my name but, I don't turn around. It all makes sense now. Why guys never ask me out, never talk to me about me, never ask Pez or Leigh about me. It's all because I'm...ugly? I knew it. From the start.

My two best friends were hot...and I...was not...

Taglist & Mutuals: @supraveng @getreeljas @allthisfortommy @namoreno @inthecornerchair @bubb1eana1ee @alwaaaysadream @wildxwidow @gbaabyyyy @wanniiieeee @tom-softie @thirlwallsholland @perspectiive @starksview @mn-jun @quacksonhq @isimpforeveryone @darling-im-moonstruck @lillytallis @l-a-u-r-e-n @lharrietg @organicpurplepants @badass-yn @thenoddingbunny-blog @dreamyyholland24 @big-galaxy-chaos @sweetpeterparker @spideysimpossiblegirl

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{ ©️ - spideymix 2021 }

[dxrkluvie]

SHALL WE CHERRY?

JEAN K. x EREN x FEM READER

threesome 18+ smut

Full story available on my ao3. Click here.

Story name : " Shall we cherry? "

If you like my stories, please support me on insta --> @/llllenaj

You: I am bad at first impressions. 

Eren: Do you want me to drive you home?

 

You nodded and let him lead the way. When you reached his car, he held the door open for you. It made you blush lightly. 

When he sat down on the seat next to yours, his shirt lifted a little bit, revealing his well-toned abs. You looked away immediately. 

 

Eren: Are you okay?

You: Yes.

He started driving. The lights were reflecting on his face, you noticed how well sculpted it was. A few hairs were falling on his forehead. 

 

He was just so fine. 

 

You: How old are you? 

Eren: 19. And you?

You: Me too. Thank you for giving me a ride tonight. 

Eren: It's nothing. By the way, the offer still stands.

You: What offer?

Eren: Mushes and wee- WHO GAVE YOU YOUR FUCKING LICENCE FUCKING PIECE OF SCUM?- the boy yelled as the driver in front of you who took a right turn without flashing their indicators. 

You: If you don't cuss on the way, you're doing it wrong.

Eren: I would love to crucify those fuckers. 

You: I wonder if they paid their instructors. 

Eren: Perhaps.

You: I've never done shrooms. What is it like?

Eren: It depends on how much you take. Typically you see the colors a lot more vividly, they're A LOT brighter and sometimes they'd move. Also, you could get an intense body high. It enhances your feelings and messes with your head but in a very beautiful way. 

You: Oh, weird. Have your friends done it?

Eren: Yes. I am not into fake shit. Natural all the way, there's no such thing like dying from weed or mushes. UNLESS you've mistakenly picked the wrong shroom, but I'm not dumb. 

You: I don't know...

Eren: You don't have to be afraid, I will take care of you. 

You: Oh...- you looked down, blushing once more. Being all shy and mushy was so not you. But damn, this charming brat. 

The boy shook his head and looked for his parking spot.

You: Wait, we are here already?

Eren: I assume you were too busy daydreaming.

You: Oh, sorry. 

Eren's phone buzzed. It was a message from Armin saying: 

 

' Hello, Jean drove me home, I would appreciate it if you let me rest for a little while on my own and not come home yet as this whole gathering thing was too much for me. Thank you, Eren.' 

The boy texted back: 

 Okay, is Jean home though?

A: No, he went out.

E: Okay, rest well - he said and drifted away from the parking lot. - Change of plans. If you don't mind.

 

You: What happened? And I do not.

Eren: Something's up with Armin, he's just so sensitive like that. It will be fine. 

You: I don't feel like going home yet...

 

Eren: Where do you want to g- before he could finish, he received a call. It was Jean. 

 

J: Where the hell are you?

E: I should be asking the same. I am in the car with y/n. 

J: Armin kicked me out of the dorm. 

Eren rolled his eyes. 

E: I am not sure what we could do.

 

You, mouthing: Maybe we could try a motel?

 

E: Y/n is suggesting a motel, are you down?

J: Yeah, just give me the address whenever.

E: Okay, cool.

 

They hung up. The boy looked at you, his eyes were beyond stunning. - Why a motel? 

You: You know I am new here, I'd like to see what it is like outside of this city. Just curiosity. 

 

One of your fantasies was to have sex in a motel with a hot stranger. And today's events were working in your favor. You thought it was oddly romantic and you'd always make up fake scenarios in your head where this was happening.  You drove outside of the city for about half an hour. Eren was slowly losing patience. 

Maybe we could try this one? - he suggested, pointing out to a random building. 

You: Sure- you replied, googling the place- it has 4.7/5 stars and breakfast is included. $130 a night. 

Eren: Sure. - he said and got out of the car. Next, he opened the door for you and waited for you to get out, before locking it. 

You found those gestures cute.

When you entered the place, the receptionist gave you a weird look. It made you feel unwelcome. Eren did not bother reacting, he just took out his card out and tapped it on the pin pad.

Room #16 is for you - the old lady spoke - good night.

Eren: Night. 

You walked to the elevator.

It fascinated you how unbothered he was.

You: Did you see that?

Eren: She's probably sick of random teens renting a place to party/fuck, cause they don't have their own places yet. 

You laughed - I will give it to your cash. 

Jean called again. The phone call consisted of him asking for the location, and Eren simply giving it to him followed by the questions '' Should I bring cherries and alcohol? '' to which Eren answered ''yes'' and hung up. 

 

While you were walking past the other rooms, you could hear noises of all sorts. Sweet moaning, people fighting, loud music, and people yelling. 

Eren unlocked the door slowly. You stood behind him, carefully observing his hand movements. It was oddly arousing. His hands were big and had some veins slightly popping out. 

The smell of his expensive cologne was spreading into the air. He took his tie off and threw it across the room. The same happened to the hair tie that held his hair up. 

Neither of you was talking. 

You sat on the bed, and he did the same. Both of you had your backs turned on one another. 

15 minutes passed in silence when Jean suddenly opened the door with a bang. 

Jean: HELLOOOOOOOO!

Eren: Ew.

Jean: Get lost - the boy shook his head and placed the bag he carried with him on one of the nightstands- I brought what you wanted me to. 

Eren: So, shall we cherry? -  he asked, no one in particular. 

You: What is that? 

Jean: Kind of like a drinking game but not exactly. The rules are really simple. You dip a cherry in vodka and place it in-between your lips. The other person has to take the cherry without touching your lips OR they'll have to give you oral.

You looked away, squeezing your eyes and lips. 

Jean: All good?

Eren: It's fun. You don't have to, though.

Jean: Yeah if it's not something you think you could have fun with.

You: No I would actually try that.

Eren: Oh? - his tone changed. The boy took one of the already washed cherries. Jean handed him a plastic cup where he poured some vodka and dipped the fruit in it. He placed it on top of your lips and you aimed to eat it right away.

Jean: You broke the rule.

You: Fuck, I am sorry it wasn't intentional. 

Eren: It's okay. How did it taste?

You: Sweet and slightly bitter. 

His eyes narrowed at you. It almost looked like he was putting a lot of effort into getting the fruit in between his lips, that you've been dying to taste for a while.

You leaned closer to him and he purposefully pushed the cherry away with his tongue - Oh shit it fell. 

You: This was on purpose.

The boy placed his hand at the back of your head- I will give you a head if you want.

Jean: Can I join?

You nodded, embarrassed.

Another thing that has been a common fantasy of yours was to be fucked by two guys, but you never thought it would ever become reality.

Eren slid your right leg up. Jean did the same with your left one.

You laid on the bed, breathing heavily.

Jean lowered his voice, making it appear huskier - Relax, baby girl, you'll enjoy that tongue.

Eren lazily lifted your dress up, and Jean slid your pants down.

Both of them were taking turns to kiss on both of your thighs. You could feel your skin get more sensitive after every touch.

Blood rushed down and you felt warmth between your hips.

Jean spread your pussy open using his middle and index finger & Eren gave your throbbing clit a slow teasing lick.

Jean: She's getting wetter it's so hot.

Eren: I know.

This small dirty talk was causing your thirst for them to grow.

Eren: She is dying to get her hole licked, aren't you, y/n?

You let out a loud ' yes ' & shortly afterward you felt both of their tongues lick up and down on both of your pussy lips.

It made your toes curl.

Eren's finger started to slowly pump in and out of your hole as Jean's tongue was eagerly gliding up and down on your wet cunt.

The room got filled with your sweet " ah's " and "oh's".

At one point you felt both of their tongues battling one another across your clit and it was nearly leaving you breathless. 

The boys stopped and looked up at you.

Eren: Have you done this before?

You: As in a threesome?

He nodded. You replied with a '' no '. 

Eren: How is it going so far?

You: Amazing. I actually want to return the favor. 

Both of them stood up. 

Now you were off the bed, kneeling before them. You could see the lust in their eyes. Especially Jean's. 

Both of your hands took a place on both of their dicks. They were gently stroking them as your mouth was giving them licks and sucks on their tips, going from Jean's cock to Eren's back and forth, in a pattern. 

One thing you've noticed was that Eren was tenser, his body language was more indicative. He was rock hard, his pupils were dilated and he was thrusting in your mouth slightly when given the chance. 

As for Jean - he was more vocal. He'd let out some quiet groans here and there and you would occasionally hear some ' fuck yes '.

Eren: Go lay down. 

You did as ordered.

Jean: Hold on - the boy said and laid down first, leaning against the bed frame - you can lay on me.

You hesitated for a bit. Eren walked up to you, lifted your chin up, and kissed you. His hands slid down to your boobs and squeezed them gently. His thumbs massaged on your nipples. It made you wetter. 

" Okay... " you said and crawled on top of him, having him face your back. 

Jean placed his hand around your neck and kissed on it - Have you done anal? - he asked, whispering. 

You: No. 

Jean: Would you be interested? 

You: Yes. 

He placed his thumb on your lips, you licked it. 

Jean: Shitt...- he grunted and slid both of his hands down on your body, as yours were surrounded his, supporting your whole upper half. Your legs spread open and Eren made his way to you once again. 

His lips were on top of your clit, sucking and licking on it. 

His thumb moved down to your asshole and he carefully massaged on it in circles. He stopped for a second and looked at you - I am going to insert it in... - the boy spoke quietly while doing so.

Your body tensed up. You felt full but in a good way.

To your pleasant surprise, he was good at giving oral and a bit more gentle than his friend was.

Jean: Should I stick it in? I want to fuck you so hard, y/n.

You: Go for it.

Eren got on top of both of you. He leaned forward to give you a passionate kiss. He did the same to Jean. You noticed how attractive he looked up-close.

You: Fuck that's so hot...

Eren's cock slid inside your wet pussy as for Jean's, in your back entrance. Slowly.

You moaned as both of them started to push themselves inside you.

Eren was about an inch and a half bigger than Jean. It made you leak. He smirked - You're that wet for me?

You: Yes - you whispered against his lips and kissed him.

Both of them started thrusting inside your holes at a quicker pace.

You moaned loudly and leaked a bit more.

The pressure was building up rather quicker than you expected it to as your sweet spots were stimulated at the same time.

You: Fuck I'll squirt all over you.

Eren stopped moving and placed his lips on your neck, slowly kissing down on you.

His tongue teased your nipples. They hardened even more. Every touch of his, or Jean's was making your skin more sensitive.

The view of you and Eren indulging made Jean stop for a second as well and enjoy the show.

Your hips moved against Eren's.

He bit on your lower lip - That eager, huh?

You: Yes...

Jean's hands were firmly holding your butt, viciously slamming it down on his while Eren was filling you up from the front.

You were nearly reaching your climax and soon you squirted.

Both of them mentioned how hot this was.

You giggled a bit. - I am pretty sure we will ruin the mattress.

Eren: Who gives a shit...

Jean: Y/n...

You: Yes?

Jean: Can I cum in you?

You: Yeah...it should be okay.

Eren stopped and took a chair, sitting in front of both of you.

Jean used you for his own pleasure, as for Jaeger - for his entertainment.

He began to jerk off to the view of you being fucked.

Your hole was tight and it made Jean cum instantly.

Eren: Oh shit... -

You: Can I get off? - you asked Jean.

He said ' yes '. Before leaving though, you gave him a kiss, which he returned.

Next, your lips transferred to Eren's. He held the back of your head. Your fingers ran through his hair. Your eyes locked.

You: Do you need help?

Eren: Sure.

Once again, you kneeled down. Your tongue licked on his whole length. Your mouth was on his balls now, taking each one in as your hand was stroking him.

His breathing got heavier and his precum leaked.

You: Are you enjoying that?

Eren: Very much so fuck...

You: Cum for me, Eren.

The boy grunted and shot out a few loads - Enough! - he said and gently pushed you away.

You looked at him.

Eren: You should try sex on shrooms, it makes everything × 10 better.

You: I don't see why I wouldn't.

You blushed. Both of your wildest dreams have combined in one in just one night and you felt somewhat satisfied. Both- sexually and emotionally.

Eren: How are you accepting what just happened?- the boy asked as he stood up and handed everyone a tissue.

[jademakean]

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

𝑷𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

  Drizzles of water began coating your body as you rushed to your best friend's porch, hurriedly knocking on the wooden door.

The extra holiday break from school allowed you to spend more time with Pauline, meaning: chaotic sleepovers

“Hello?”

You looked up meeting a pair of green eyes you hadn't seen in a long while. “Timothée?”

Once the slender figure came to the realization of who was waiting at his front step, his mouth went agape mirroring yours.

You both had been close since you were little. You became friends with Pauline in middle school and met Timothée through her. From then on you were a trio and would do everything together, but that all changed.

Him, being three years older than you meant that he'd go to college first and in the end, there would simply not be any time for you both to be together. You did try to hang out once every two weeks but his college was way too far and he needed to spend his time focussing on his studies. It ended in a bad note, with many hurtful words shared.

Before you knew it, Timothée had you in bone-crushing embrace  “I haven't seen you in months, more than a year maybe! God, I missed you.”

“Why didn't you tell me you came back?” you couldn't hide the slight disappointment of him not thinking about letting you know. “I wanted to but I switched phone numbers and my sister wanted me to surprise you instead. I just didn't know I was going to see you this soon.”

Though you both shared your relief in seeing each, there was some strange tension in the air.

“I gotta visit my aunt right now but we should celebrate tomorrow or something.” He suggested, breaking the silence.

“Yeah totally. I'm sleeping over anyways so we'll probably see each other after dinner. Just be careful, the weather seems to be getting worse.”

“Oh yeah of course. If you need some clothes you can get some from my room, they're in a box on my bed. I know that Pauline's clothes are too small for any human being to wear.”

You giggled at his over-exaggeration nodding “Thanks. Stay safe.”

Once the door shut you felt your mood change. It's not like you weren't happy to see him, you were, but not being able to have the same connection you once had made your heartache.

“DJ Paulina in the house mother fuckers!”

You jumped at your best friend's sudden outburst but laughed nevertheless.

“Holy shit, you're wetter than the pacific ocean!”

You roller your eyes “Really? Damn, I wonder why. It's alright though, Timothée allowed me to borrow one of his shirts.”

“Wait you already saw Timothée?”

“Yeah, he just left.”

Paulina grimaced slightly knowing how hard it might've been for two introverts to reunite after a long period of time, let alone after they had a fight last time they were together. She quickly changed the subject not wanting to upset you.

That didn't mean she wouldn't plan on rebuilding your bond.

۵

The snaps of thunder kept you awake and the heavy drops of rain overtook your mind.

As the time pasted you began wondering what would happen if there was a monster under your bed, if a ghost yanked you by your leg, or if the shadow of the hanging coat was actually a person.

Full-on scaring yourself.

And Pauline's sleep talking was not helping the situation.

Both of you spent the day baking, eating and watching movies. Though it's not how most teenagers take up the opportunity of an empty house, it was more than enough for you two.

What was irritating you at this precise moment was the fact that you were exhausted during the day and still are, except you, can't bring yourself to actually fall asleep.

Creaking sounds were heard throughout the room as your feet made contact with the wooden floor.

You grumbled making your way to the kitchen for a cup of fresh cold water.

The bright electronic clock on the stove displayed the time. 2:23 A.M.

You were so dazed and distracted by the clock that before you could fill your glass with water, the cup fell on the counter.

You felt your heart stop the second the loud sound emitted throughout the quiet space, fearing you'd break your best friend's parent's glass. But once you realized that everything was still stable, you proceeded to finish your plan.

“What are you doing still awake?”

Your body jumped at those words. You turned to see Timothée with hooded eyes and slumped figure, clearly more than half asleep.

“Sorry, I'm a light sleeper and the thunder was keeping me awake.”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

He smiled softly with a droopy gaze

Not gonna lie, initially some inappropriate thoughts crossed your mind, but vanished once you remembered how every time you had trouble falling asleep, you'd get in his bed and he'd make conversation until you fell asleep.

“Sure.”

Timothée was probably too out of it to understand why it had taken you so look to answer, which you were grateful for.

He lazily intertwined your fingers and led you to his room.

It looked the same as before, maybe some items we're missing so he'd be able to decorate his new apartment, but other than that, still the same.

You hesitantly laid down turning your body away from the curly-headed boy. You felt yourself heating up as last time you shared a bed you were a quite innocent 15-year-old, and to be fair you've always seen him as a bother figure.

But two years have passed and he was now 20, it felt like being with a stranger even though he wasn't.

“You alright?”

He mumbled quietly

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” You chewed your lip anxiously. You've never been good at confronting people.

“Is there a reason why you got mad at me when you left. All I remember was you telling me how we couldn't be friends because of all the work you had and how you couldn't handle too many things at the same time. But in the end, you suddenly got mad at me and it ended in a huge fight.”

You could tell that Timothée was now fully awake, definitely not expecting you to mention the topic at this time of night.

“Well, in all honestly I knew you wouldn't want to give up on our friendship. I've always seen you as a loyal strong friend and I didn't want to disappoint you by continuously bailing out on our plans.”

Thought his solution was a stupid one, you understood what he meant. You would most definitely get let down many times and eventually get mad at him, even if it wasn't fully his fault.

“I understand. Just-- Just don't do that again. I'd rather have a relationship with you even if we rarely saw each other, instead of not seeing you at all. I miss being with you.”

Timothée's heavy arm hugged you closer to him. So close you could feel his gentle heartbeat against your back.

“I'm not as much of a mess I was back in the first year of college. I have more spare time, even if college is too far we can face time and meet once a month.”

It was nice to witness his change in attitude regarding the situation, he's now more open-minded and optimistic.

“Is that why you seemed so tense when you saw me today?”

You suddenly felt yourself redden from slight embarrassment “I mean yeah. I kinda overreact a lot, but you know that. I didn't even recognize you, you've changed and I didn't know how to feel.”

You felt chest shake from a deep chuckle as you played with his fingers “Is that a good thing?”

He was making you flustered and he knew it.

“I mean, yeah. You look mature for a 20-year-old. When you were 18 you still had your baby face- it's not a bad thing at all, but now you, um, okay I'm just going to stop talking.”

Once again, Timothée's body shook slightly from his laughter which eventually died down.

There was silence once again, the downpour was hitting the window aggressively but managed to make you feel calm. The heat that radiated from the man's body was wrapping you in a warm blanket, his cold breath tickling your neck.

“How do you see me?

The silence was halted by your simple question “What do you mean?” his raspy voice asked, not understanding the question very well.

“Before you said that you saw me as a loyal friend. How do you see me now?”

Timothée turned your body to face him “Well, you've changed as well. You don't look like a little kid anymore.”

You hummed in response staring into his eyes. The moonlight was shining through the window behind Timothée, illuminating his hair, making it look as though he was wearing a halo around his head.

“Has anything interesting happened while I was gone? House renovations, dead grandma, boyfriends..?”

You had to cover your mouth from bursting out laughing “How the hell do you go from dead grandma to boyfriends?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders waiting for an answer “I had a boyfriend for a little while but it didn't work out.”

Timothée nodded for you to keep going

“He treated me differently when we were around his friends, kinda like he didn't want me. We would get into a lot of arguments and I just wasn't happy. So I ended it.”

He took your hand caressing it carefully with his thumb. You knew he was trying to make you feel better though you weren't actually sad about the breakup. You decided not to say anything against it since his action-filled your heart with butterflies.

“He's an asshole for doing that.”

“Yeah well, most of them are.”

There was a small pause in the air before Timothée spoke up again

“I wouldn't do that to you.”

You were taken aback from his sudden confession. You expected him to joke around about some dumb stereotypes.

“If you were my boyfriend, or just in general?” you asked genuinely curious to which he answered:

“Both.”

You being the anxious human being you are, decided to play it off as a joke. Like always.

“Yeah right, you would never date me, you might as well be one of those extra frat boys that-”

“Why would you assume I wouldn't date you.”

You were becoming more and more agitated, not fully grasping the meaning of his words, and why he was now saying it.

“I've always adored you. The reason why I never said anything is because I'm three years older than you and didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why are you saying this now?” You shuttered out as he moved closer to your body.

“I didn't realize how much I loved you until we separated. Now I'm realizing how much time I wasted.”

Timothée began breathing heavily, his eyes focusing on the different features your face held.

“Would you date me now?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. “Even if we wouldn't see each other often?”

He nodded once again, this time speaking “I haven't seen you in two years and I still have feelings for you, they won't go away even if I tried.”

Timothée let his fingers gently brush against your lips studying them thoroughly making your mind hazy.

You were so focussed on each other that the background noise was now muffled.

Your mouths were agape wanting one thing and one thing only.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispered breathlessly. If he wasn't studying you so closely he would have missed your little nod.

But he didn't miss it.

The second the small gesture was caught, was the second his lips made contact with yours.

The kiss was heated and desperate, your eyebrows furrowed hopelessly from the connection. Tongues soon intertwining as Timothée held himself on top of you for better control of the situation. Not giving you room to escape.

You sighed through your nose not being able to break from the kiss, not wanting to break from the kiss.

His front pressed flush against yours, allowing his hands to travel all over your body with no hesitation.

You mumbled Timothée's name against his lips before you broke apart. “Did I go too far?”

You smiled at his worried state “No, I loved every second of it.”

He copied your smile resting his forehead on yours “Sorry, I could help myself.”

He laid on his back before you cuddled to his side, leg wrapped with his and head resting on his shoulder.

Timothée observed your crimson cheeks and swollen lips. He wanted to tease you about it but he knew damn well that he looked the exact same.

Sleep eventually took over you. The soothing sound of the storm was the last thing you heard, and the motion of Timothée's chest calmly rising and falling was the last thing you felt.