#i remember this every couple months and it makes me want to rip out my hair

[gayclubsoap]

SHE SAID THE PERFECT GIRL BY MAREUX REMINDED HER OF ME HOW COULD I BE SO OBLIVIOUS WHY AM I LIKE THIS??? SOUNDTRACK FOR YOUR BACKSEAT ??? I NEED TO BE HIT OVER THE HEAD WITH A HAMMER TO CATCH WHEN SOMEONE'S SAYING THEY LIKE ME

[thelostmagicians]

Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve

♡

The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings. 

So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship. 

_

The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings. 

“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart. 

“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.   

You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him. 

_

But that was a year ago. 

Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.

“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”

Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval. 

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”

“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.

“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”

Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”

You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.

“Oh please you can’t be serious.”

You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home. 

_ 

The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!

Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold. 

You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.

You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug. 

“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease. 

Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down. 

“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup. 

She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside. 

“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in. 

Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”

“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath. 

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”

“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”

You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”

Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”

“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself. 

She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”

Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”

“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”

Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.   

This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck. 

“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger. 

You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”

Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit. 

_ 

The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile. 

Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something. 

Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off. 

“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.

Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.

You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”

Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait. 

“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”

Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.” 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”

He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. 

They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere. 

[chrollogy]

EPISODE 1: ONE HELL OF A PLAN

sebastian michaelis x f!reader

NNN ‘24 masterlist | Next Episode

DETAILS: No Nut November only has one rule—to abstain oneself from an orgasm or ‘nutting’ during the whole month of November—that means no rule is broken if Sebastian fucks you without cumming, right?

DURATION: 3.1k

CONTENT ADVISORY: explicit smut, mdni, sexual tension, unprotected sex, p in v, orgasm denial/edging, cervix fucking, seb puts reader in like three different positions, porn without plot, seb may be a slight menace, pet names (my love), not beta read.

DIRECTOR’S NOTE: divider: cafekitsune. first fic of november ^^ i might be a bit rusty hehe but enjoy !!

“And what, pray tell, would both parties—us—benefit from such an arrangement?” Sebastian hummed, voice like velvet wrapping you in a smooth embrace beneath his crimson gaze, it glowed eerily. With the month of November right around the corner, you had introduced Sebastian to No Nut November—the rules were simple, no one was to orgasm for the entirety of the month.

Though, the latter was rather amused before you got to explain the challenge’s real meaning, Sebastian had thought that one was to abstain from all types of nuts during November, apparently not. It gave you a good laugh, not to mention how you almost called him innocent yet you knew he was far from that.

You returned a shrug which earned a curious tilt of his head, “It’s just a little fun challenge I want to try.” “Mhm, are you quite sure you’re able to complete this entire month without ‘nutting’.” Sebastian lifted his arms, forming air quotes with his fingers, a sly smirk painted on his lips. Letting out a playful scoff, you crossed your arms over your chest, and narrowed a gaze at him,

“Are you deeming me incapable?”

Sebastian let out a dulcet chuckle but nonetheless, raised his gloved hands in defence, “I didn’t mean to impose but if I were to recall our activities during the past week, you couldn’t get enough of my co—” You swiftly covered his mouth with a palm; flustered was written all over your face, and it fuelled Sebastian’s smugness. Feeling his smile widen beneath your touch had you ripping your hand away from his face only to be swiftly caught by an ivory-gloved hand.

Slender fingers uncurled from your wrist, you watched as it slowly snaked up your hand to capture it in a gentle hold, Sebastian brought it up to his lips, deftly kissing the back of your palm. His crimson eyes were on yours,

“I’d be delighted to participate in this challenge with you. The only rule is to abstain from an orgasm, correct?”

An icy shudder kissed down your spine. You absentmindedly nodded, as though his ruby gaze had bewitched the depths of your soul. “Noted.” That was all Sebastian said before walking off, the sound of his raven heeled shoes clicking against the marbled tiles. Though, you were sharp enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips stretched into a smug smile—it held absolutely no innocence.

The challenge started off fairly normal, you, and Sebastian waltzed around every corner of the shared house without carnal desire consuming your minds—it was pure domesticity, normal couple, normal lives, all was well. Other types of skinship were of course still on the table, innocent hugs, and cuddles filled the days where sexual intercourse lacked.

Safe to say, you were surprised to make it two weeks into November untouched by Sebastian nor yearning for such pleasure. Though, you weren’t exactly surprised for the latter, he was a man of restraint after all, having not eaten any souls for as long as he could remember despite his species—it only made sense for Sebastian to see this challenge as mere child’s play.

By the start of the third week, the atmosphere violently shifted, the house felt eerily intense, as though a predator loomed within its dark corners, waiting to pounce the moment you displayed a sign of weakness. At first, you chalked it up to the lack of sexual pleasure but you quickly caught onto what was happening.

Sebastian’s hands lingered on you, dangerously near parts where he hasn’t touched you since the start of the month. His crimson eyes also bore into your soul with each conversation which resulted in your sweet, sweet arousal shamefully pooling between your legs—you knew that look, one he’d give you whenever he craved the intimacy of your raw beauty.

But it didn’t stop there.

Innocent cuddles turned into touches with more meaning behind them, the sinful rub of his palms against the plush of your thighs. Wholesome hugs turned into his nose buried deep in the junction of your neck to take a whiff of your intoxicating scent—you still remembered the feeling of his nose dragging up your sensitive skin, leaving trails of goosebumps for him to lick, and nip at. Chaste kisses turned into passionate makeout sessions where tongues were involved, breaths hot, and heavy.

“Sebastian . .” You panted, weakly pulling away from his sinful lips. Somehow, you found yourself atop the shared bed, caged beneath Sebastian as he eagerly trailed wet kisses down the column of your neck as though his lips couldn’t get enough of your bare skin. How weird, the two of you were just in the living room moments ago.

He hummed, sending low vibrations across your sensitive skin, “Something wrong?” Sebastian looked up from the junction of your neck, intense crimson gaze earning an icy shudder from you, “If you—If you continue like this, neither of us would be able to stop . . We were doing so well—Haah! It’d be a waste if we lose the challenge.”

That was the thing, even though Sebastian was a man of patience, he was still a demon after all—an impatient one once his prey was trapped within the confines of his claws.

Sebastian only replied with a humourless chuckle, continuing to work his deft fingers all over your clothed body. And you let him. You let your lover gently peel off articles of clothing, and with every newly exposed skin, he peppers them with such tenderness that only a demon with a heart could conjure. Layer after layer, each chaste kiss was placed upon your naked skin until your bare beauty was all that’s left for the demon to admire.

He clicked his tongue before gathering your arousal on his fingers, causing a low mewl to escape past your lips. With a small smile painted on his face, Sebastian admired the shine of his digits—the way your essence sinfully glistened beneath the late afternoon sun as it reflected gentle hues of oranges, and reds from the sky outside.

“My love, I’m sure this is more of a waste, don’t you think?”

With that, Sebastian pushed his digits past his rosy lips all the way to the base, his slender tongue eagerly wiping the thin coat of your arousal from his fingers; you tasted absolutely divine. You watched as Sebastian let out a satisfied hum, paired with his closed eyes, as though to thoroughly relish the flavour of your essence.

How sinfully lewd, the sight had you clenching your bare cunt around nothing but complete disappointment, an uncomfortable ache growing with every slow second. Sebastian slipped his fingers out with a subtle pop before starting on his own clothes—layer by layer, he peeled each fine fabric off his slender physique, exposing his pale complexion.

Sure, No Nut November was a fun little challenge for the month, and no one really lost anything if the rule was broken but your competitive side somehow couldn’t take this meaningless loss.

“It’d be such a shame to lose.” You mumbled, half unsure if you were really willing to see through the end of the challenge—well, you have gotten this far into the month. 

“‘To lose’?” Sebastian let out a devilish chuckle, lips stretched into a devious smile—one suited for a demon from the depths of hell. Somehow, you weren’t quite looking forward to the next few words that were going to come out of his mouth.

 “My love, who said you were cumming tonight?”

Oh. Your heart sank to your stomach. If anything, Sebastian was a man of his word.

A second passed—a heartbeat—as you held Sebastian’s deep crimson stare. He only said one sentence yet it was as though your mind tried to process a whole paragraph spoken in an ancient language. Upon your silence, he decided it’d be best to refresh your mind on the singular rule of the challenge,

“From what I remember, the one, and only rule was to abstain from an orgasm, correct?” He sauntered over to the foot of the king-sized bed, ruby gaze locked onto nothing but you, as though you were tonight’s freshly caught prey.

You nodded.

“And it said nothing about engaging in sexual acts, correct?” By now, Sebastian had both palms planted atop the foot of the mattress, sizing you up, and down.

Once again, you nodded.

“Then no loss will be taken as long as we do not orgasm—you’re capable of that, aren’t you?” Sebastian slowly crawled up the mattress, akin to a predator looking over its prey, each silent move calculated and silently deadly.

Evil. Wicked. An absolute diabolical plan, as expected from a cunning demon. How his mind worked amazed you without fail. You fell right into Sebastian’s trap, buttering you up with sexual tension for the past few days ‘til you displayed a sign of vulnerability—a slight opening to feed off of just before he goes for the devastating kill.

One that you cannot escape.

In all honesty, you expected no less from a demon. To take advantage of one while completely defenceless was second nature to him at this point—what better way to sink his fangs into than a sexually deprived human?

Before you could even answer Sebastian’s question, a cold hand parted your legs, causing you to flinch at the sudden contrast of temperature. And without wasting any more time, Sebastian slowly eased the head of his cock, pulling a unison of breathy sighs from both of you, “I do hope you don’t forget about the arrangement we agreed upon at the start of the month.” Sebastian let out a grunt, tone laced with pure tease, as though he wasn’t inching his cock inside your velvety walls.

Oh god.

Your fingers sunk into the soft sheets beneath your naked body, toes curling at the feel of his length spreading your walls apart. Each centimetre of Sebastian’s thick cock pushed inside your sopping cunt had you panting harder, a searing blaze kissed, and nipped at your feverish skin as pure pleasure gnawed at your very bones.

It had only been exactly three weeks since you proposed the No Nut November challenge to Sebastian—only three weeks without his cock inside you yet why did this feel like the first night you had him? Oh, you remembered all the sensations your body felt like it was yesterday; the pinch between your legs at Sebastian’s sheer size, the tremble of your body like a fragile autumn leaf as he bottomed out, the insanity of tethering between sobriety, and completely giving into pleasure.

All of it. And That’s how you felt right this very moment.

With Sebastian’s hips flush against your own, and his entire length fully sheathed inside, he stilled for a brief moment. Tresses of raven strands fell over his serene face as he looked down, rosy lips parted in a shallow pant, and crimson eyes locked on you. It glowed a little, like a precious ruby gemstone beneath the sun, an endless pool of swirling red.

It beckoned you with its slender finger, urging you to give into the sinful pleasure he generously offered.

“Haah!—How impatient.” The demon smirked, showing a peek of pointed canines amongst his pearly whites as your velvety walls automatically tightened around him. Nonetheless, Sebastian slowly moved his hips, starting off with a generous pace to bask in your velvety walls, allowing him to feel your cushiony insides, and how it pulsed for him—deep strokes to drag out the pleasure brewing at the pit of your stomach.

Though, his languid thrusts didn’t last for long, only displaying a fleeting moment of faux mercy before picking the pace up. Your hands soon found comfort on either side of your head, twisted around to grip at the silken sheets beneath, it didn’t help much considering how your body jolted upwards with each relentless thrust Sebastian gave.

Oxygen from your lungs quickly turned into sighs of content and dainty mewls in the shape of the demon’s name, your toes curled inwards at the sinful rhythm of your bodies—a firm push, and pull, push, and pull which steadily coaxed louder, passionate moans.

It blended well with the pornographic skin slapping as Sebastian’s heavy balls slapped your ass, a filthy tune fit for a wicked demon and his beloved. 

Sebastian stared at you with a rather amused expression on his face, the corners of his lips tugging upwards in a teasing smile; it hasn’t been long since the two of you started yet you were easily coming undone, slowly bordering into pure lust. If you had any shame left in your body, you’d be embarrassed at how easily he made you submit to pleasure.

Taking it up a notch, Sebastian deftly placed your right leg over his slender shoulder. With his hips flush against yours, it allowed his cockhead to reach deeper with the new angle, repeatedly kissing your sweet spot. He gave no room for reaction before driving back and forth at a much faster pace that had you rolling your eyes back.

“Seb—aah! Ngh! Right there!”

Greedy pride blossomed across his naked chest at your cockdrunk state. This wasn’t a rare sight for Sebastian per se but oh, how he missed seeing you bare your lewd expressions to him—vulnerable and utterly lost in pleasure. A subtle smirk crept its way up to his face, too bad you couldn’t see it with how much your vision bounced, mixed with tears pooling around your eyes.

As Sebastian mercilessly pistoned his hips, it didn’t take long for pleasure to slowly climb up, up, up and reach its peak. You tightened around him, repeatedly babbling his name in barely coherent whimpers, a clear indication that you neared your peak. Naturally—or rather unfortunately, the ever attentive demon noticed this amidst the rough fucking he gave.

With the smirk he wore unfaltering, Sebastian quickly pulled out, ripping a rather embarrassing whine from your lips, “W-wait! No!” Genuine frustration coated your voice. Disappointment swiftly replaced the pleasure you felt, and no matter how much you tried holding on to that feeling, it stubbornly slipped from your very fingers which elicited another whine from you.

Paying no mind to your sounds, he deftly repositioned your limp body by unhooking the leg draped over his shoulder to have you face the mattress instead.

How pliant your divine body was. Just the way Sebastian liked it.

A muffled wanton moan filled his ears as he entered your sopping cunt from behind, naked body flush against your own. Given Sebastian’s generous length, the reach was much deeper this time, his cockhead kissed your cervix over and over again ‘til saliva dripped from the corners of your lips, and onto the ivory sheets below.

Sebastian placed his lips dangerously close to your ear, allowing you to hear every heated grunt and curse he had to offer which only brought you faster to the edge. If anything, hearing him moan always had an effect on you and he was well aware of that fact. You bit your lip, snaking a shaky hand behind to tug at his obsidian strands.

“S-Seb—mhm! Please let me cum—!”

He gave your shoulder a small nip, and breathlessly chuckled into your ear, his hot breath leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake,

“Oh, my love but you can’t. You’ve worked so hard for this, right? Or am I mistaken?” Sebastian’s tone was nothing but pure tease, not even holding an ounce of mercy in his words.

Before you could protest, your lover quickly hauled you up, weak knees planted on the mattress, and your body slumped against him. The new position allowed you to lean back on Sebastian’s shoulder for support but your exposed front meant he had easy access to your sensitive parts.

One hand cupped a breast while the other snaked down, down, down towards the bundle of nerves just above your wet entrance. You jolted in surprise, electrifying pleasure sending shocks throughout your body as Sebastian deftly toyed with your clit—round, and round, figure of eights, side to side, he knew it all.

He knew just how to turn your body into a quivering mess until you completely moulded into his hold. The mixed stimulation of your clit, g-spot, and sensitive nipple had you seeing stars, it wasn’t rare for Sebastian to do this during sex but having been deprived of it for a few weeks definitely had your body reacting in some kind of way.

“Fuck! God, please—!”

As your words hung in the thick air, something inside Sebastian snapped, his demeanour shifted the very moment you had spoken the word ‘god’ as though you had just cursed him.

A ripple of silent power engulfed every corner of the room, an unsettling chill of aura replaced the burning atmosphere it housed a few moments ago—so suffocating, so mysteriously wicked but none of it frightened you, if anything, Sebastian’s possessiveness only urged you to clench around his hard cock.

It was subtle but nothing ever got past the demon and his impeccable senses.

He let out a low growl against your neck, sharpened teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, “Have you forgotten? I’m no god, my love.”

Despite your senses completely drowned in nothing but pure pleasure, you could hear the subtle bite Sebastian had in his tone, a hint of bitterness. Nonetheless, you couldn’t really point it out given how he decided to brutally piston his hips into your cunt—heavy balls repeatedly slapped against your ass, creating a pleasurable burn to spread across your skin.

You were a mess. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks nonstop as you begged and begged Sebastian to let you cum, to cream around his cock just how he liked it. The build up of pleasure from your denied orgasms earlier hit you ten-fold, it engulfed your body in a trembling embrace.

Is this what losing one’s mind was like?

Your nails clawed at the hand on your clit, painful crimson streaks running up Sebastian’s pale skin but it only urged him to rub it even faster, making up for his sloppy thrusts. “Seb! ‘M cumming—ah!” Disappointingly, before the coil deep inside you snapped, Sebastian quickly pulled out, leaving you clenching in nothing but disappointment. You shamelessly whined as the feeling of pleasure slowly seeped out of you,more tears rolled down your flushed cheeks as upset and frustration consumed your soul.

Sebastian watched you fall onto the mattress, he watched as your body shook with soft sobs, your fingers digging into the sheets at the loss of contact, “You’re mean, you know that?” Your voice quivered, full of disappointment, and annoyance. Now, you were back to square one, not an ounce of pleasure remained in your body, as though a distant memory you dreamed of.

He could only chuckle—an apologetic one at that, “Remind me again who suggested the idea of abstinence?” 

Oh, you’ll get him back for this. 

“Don’t fret. You’ll be taken care of once the first day of the twelfth month hits.” You shuddered at his serious reassurance.

If anything, Sebastian was a man of his word. —

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tags: @grimmweepers, @engel-katze, @dar1ingduchess, @futuraesposadosebastian, @yoongibabs, @tyee100, @mystically-yours, @plan3toflov3, @iamyoojin, @plennyofthots, @h3art-ablaz3, @thenasoneshots, @nervousanimeartanimescissors, @nyekchevski, @venteeni, @amelan, @leylanx, @sillykenma, @zerowantstobattle, @darkpeace15, @ayaya-aa, @itsactuallynyx, @reeisasinamonroll, @giyusdarling, @shell03, @etheriall-slime, @adreansblog, @astraecea-silversin, @wakashudou, @awawage, @neverlandlostchild, @acehyacinth (if your url is white, it means i can’t tag you ^^)

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @pixelcafe-network !

© chrollogy 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨On My Knees for You✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a fic for a while that was all about making Joel Miller feel good. So thank you to @lotusbxtch and @mountainsandmayhem for feeding me ideas and letting me scream with you about this one 🩵 I wrote this one for my Halloween writing event!

This is a one-shot for my series Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller. It takes place a little over a year into their relationship. I hope you enjoy these two love birds! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading 🩵

Summary: You’re supposed to be getting ready for a Halloween party, but maybe you’ll just have to be late because all you can think about is getting on your knees and making Joel Miller feel so good.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: Porn with plot, getting ready for a Halloween party, angel and devil couples costumes, cock/ball worshipping, deepthroating, dirty talking, pet names, use of daddy, no use y/n, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), teasing

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sparkles shimmer across your light pink eyeshadow, sprinkling down your glowing cheeks. Dark red lipstick stains your lips a cherry-coated color. The black eyeliner that’s sharpened into pointy cat eyes makes your eyes pop under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Your hair spirals into perfect waves as you adjust the halo that sits atop the crown of your head. With one more spritz of cotton candy perfume, you’re ready for the Halloween party.

   When you exit the bathroom, you linger in the full-length mirror, adjusting the feathery wings that lay flat against your back. You circle slowly, examining your lacey angel costume for the Halloween party. One that Joel was taking you to, even if he wasn’t normally one to get excited to dress up or participate in Halloween parties. He was doing it for you. Plus, you might’ve got Tommy and Maria to convince him to go. 

   He eventually gave in after a few times of pressing, but he’d never say no to you. He was always going to go, if that’s what you wanted. Because he loves you and would do just about anything for you, even wear matching couples costumes. One an angel, the other a devil.

   You giggle as you think of the events that unraveled over the past few months. Joel Miller, your father’s best friend, the man who was off-limits to you for so long was now your boyfriend. It was all a silly little flirting game until it wasn’t. All that changed when he gave in and kissed you under his living room lights a little over a year ago. Back when he gave you that handsy guitar lesson that turned into crowding your body and fucking you relentlessly into the leather of his couch. 

   You still remember it so clearly. Just like it was yesterday. His plush lips nipping at your delicate neck, licking flames into your sweat-coated skin. His meaty hands teasing up your thighs, enticing words making you give in, his smoldering eyes lighting you on fire as he slipped two fingers beneath your drenched lace. And then, you were gone. 

   And now? The two of you were unstoppable, unbreakable. Two flames that couldn’t burn without the other. He was your favorite part of every day. Your infinite. Even if your father wasn’t thrilled when he found out, he eventually came around. And now, Joel Miller was all yours.

   The almost sheer mini skirt barely grazes the tops of your thighs, your thigh-high shimmering tights teasing your tanned skin. The white satin corset hugs your curves tightly, silk ribbon spilling underneath your pushed-up breasts, sparkly heels flashing diamonds under the dim lights of Joel’s room.

   He’s going to absolutely lose it when he sees you in this sexy getup. Especially when he gets a peek at your new lacey white panties. The ones you’re hoping he’ll rip off later tonight. 

   You hear him shuffling around downstairs, truck keys jangling by the front door, leather boots making their way toward the staircase. Suddenly, you have the best idea. A little Halloween treat to satisfy his hunger. The kind of surprise that’ll leave him tongue tied and speechless.

   You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, letting the navy comforter pull up your mini skirt higher, almost exposing your brand new lingerie. You arch your back, lean against your hands and wait with bated breath for him to find you all splayed out just for him. Like a present he’ll get to savor over and unwrap slowly.

   You can’t wait to see his reaction. 

   His heavy footsteps shake beneath the wooden steps, voice deep and booming as he shouts up to the bedroom. “Baby, you almost ready? Think Tommy’s gonna beat us there.”

   “Mhm. Can you come here for a second? Need a little help with something,” you call out, pushing your breasts together so he gets the best view of your sexy Halloween costume. 

   It was your idea to go as an angel this year, and Joel chose to be a handsome devil. And God, he was handsome alright. Even if he chose to wear his favorite green flannel and dark blue jeans. He pulled it off just fine with red devil horns and a glowing pitchfork.

   Two more steps and he’s turning right into the room, his broad body filling the expanse of the doorframe. “Okay, sweetheart. But we gotta… go.” He freezes in the doorway, wide brown eyes gawking at you as his mouth drops to the floor. 

   And… jackpot. 

   “Surprise,” you say in a lilty voice, biting your bottom lip to tease him even more. Get the blood pumping in just the right places.

   “Baby, you’re—you’re…” He drops the plastic pitchfork to the floor with a bang, his mouth hanging open like a thirsty hound dog. 

   “What? Cat got your tongue?” you tease, sliding your heels along the grey carpet, eyefucking him while you lick your bottom lip enticingly slow. 

   That does it right there. You can see it in his glassy brown irises. He’s done for.

   “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. That outfit. It’s—fuck,” he replies, voice husky and shaky from your relentless teasing.

   “You like it?” You cock your head and give him a sexy smirk, eyelashes fluttering his way.

   He takes a step inside the room and drags a palm over his patchy beard slowly, his eyes gliding down your body like he’s memorizing every single inch of you. “Baby, I don’t like it. I love it. Never seen such a pretty angel look so sexy before. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you beautiful girl.”

   “Bought it just for you. And these…” You slowly spread your legs, exposing the lacy panties that are now slick and wet from anticipation of him seeing you.

   He audibly groans, curses under his breath as he takes a few steps forward, mouth dropped as his eyes slide over your core.

   “Don’t you dare start that. Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls, his towering body hovering over yours like he’s about to pin you down on the bed. “‘Cause if you do, we ain’t leavin’ this house for another hour.”

   You lift your leg and push him back with your bedazzled heel, making him back up a few steps so you can slide down to the floor. He looks at you with questions swirling in his caramel pools, one eyebrow arching as he watches you get on all fours. He mutters a curse under his breath when he realizes what you’re doing.

   You’re teasing the hell out of him.

   “I just want to do one thing first,” you whisper, voice low as you start to crawl toward him, dragging your hands and knees unhurriedly, clawing the soft carpet until you’re right beneath his looming form.

   Your hands languidly snake up his legs, fingernails digging into the denim of his jeans, leisurely making your way to the jagged zipper.

   “Baby…” he mutters, choking out when you start palming him through his jeans. 

   “Joel,” you smirk, working his hard length through the material of his blue jeans. You’re basically drooling at the feel of his thick bulge against the palm of your hand. Can already tell how badly he wants you. 

   God, it makes more slick run down the gusset of your white lace. 

   “We’re gonna be late,” he breathes heavily as you pop his top button open and lazily drag the zipper down.

   “So, we’ll be late,” you whisper, smiling up at him while you bite your bottom lip seductively. Your hands pull his leather belt through the belt loops, and then you start to shimmy his jeans and black boxers down to the ground.

   He places a hand swiftly on yours and halts you before you go any further. “You’re gonna ruin your pretty red lipstick, sweetheart,” he tries to warn, his chocolate eyes growing darker by the second. 

   “Then let me ruin it.” You push him down into the light brown lounge chair and tug his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free of the confines of the tight material. You gasp when you see how hard and swollen and thick he is. He looks like a fucking work of art. Art that you want to devour.

   “Goddamn it,” he groans as you work his length up and down, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Sliding the precum that bubbles over his swollen red tip up and down his shaft. Just the way he likes it. 

   “Let me make you feel good, daddy,” you beg, teasing your tongue over the head of his cock and running it slowly over the slit. He groans as you taste his salty precum. “Wanna taste you, swallow you, choke on you.”

   “Yeah?” he croaks, one hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl wants to choke on me?”

   “Mhm,” you hum, licking up the underside of his cock, tongue gliding over the large vein that wraps around his thick length. “Choke me, handsome devil. Wanna gag on your fat cock.”

   He grips the back of your hair roughly and pulls hard, forcing your eyes up to meet his deep black pits. But the way he’s smiling at you, a playful smirk curling over his plush mouth, tells you he’s letting you take control just as much as he is. “C’mere then. Be a good girl and wrap those pretty lips around daddy’s cock,” he chuckles darkly. You happily oblige with a smirk.

   Taking your time, you kiss up the length of him, languidly flicking and swirling your tongue in circles against his angry tip. You giggle when he curses under his breath and audibly gasps when you take him deep in your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, you take him deeper and deeper. Until your nose is hitting his coarse, wiry hairs at the base of him, sputtering and choking as his tip kisses the back of your throat.

   “Fuckkk, baby,” he whimpers while his hand holds your curls back from getting in the way.

   You love to tease him, love to savor his salty flavor all over your tastebuds, let his seed run down the back of your throat when his orgasm bubbles over. You could do this all day. Get down on your knees while he takes you to church with his thick cock thrusting deep inside your throat. Being choked never felt or tasted so good. Not until Joel Miller showed up. Not until you got that first taste of him over a year ago. 

   You’re addicted, obsessed with making him feel good after he gets home from work. He always makes you feel good, so there’s nothing you love better than making him feel twice as good. He’s a good man, the best you’ve ever had. Now it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. 

   You gag around his hard cock, sputtering as you pull your mouth away, leaving behind a bead of drool that connects from your puffy lower lip and ends at his swollen tip. Your eyes are watery, mascara clumped on your wet eyelashes, and you feel how smeared your red lipstick is. But never mind that because Joel’s looking down at you like you’re the shiniest diamond in the world, pupils blown out and a cheeky grin plastered on his mouth.  

   “Feel good, daddy?” you ask, hand sliding in smooth motions over his massive cock, tongue licking at the bottom of one of his balls while you continue to fist him up and down, smearing more precum and drool in the process. 

   He hisses when you begin to suck, drool caking his skin while you start giving the other one attention with your other hand, squeezing and licking back and forth. “Yeah. Feels real good, babygirl. Makin’ daddy feel so good,” he moans while you massage his balls and work your tongue back up his shaft, leaving red lipstick marks all down his ballsack.

   You fucking love worshipping his cock, his balls, his everything. And you love the way he moans, bucks his hips when you deepthroat him, mutters out curses when he’s so close to coming undone. You savor his salty taste, memorize his guttural groans, praise the way he moans your name when he’s thrusting deep inside your throat. 

   You just love him. And you love making the man cum.

   Deciding to tease him more, you flick your tongue in tantalizing circles, right over his most sensitive spot where his slit pumps more precum out. 

   “Babygirl,” he warns in a husky voice, a deep growl biting at the edge of his throat. 

   “Yes, daddy?” you ask innocently, batting your long eyelashes up at the love of your life. 

   “I’m gonna need ya to stop teasin’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs, eyes slightly narrowed. 

   You giggle, popping him out of your mouth for just a second to catch your breath. “Or what?” you challenge, hoping he’ll catch on or give you what you both want. 

   “You know what,” he smirks, his fingers tangling around your loose curls tightly and drawing you closer. 

   You tick your head to the side and smirk while he matches your fiery stare. He wants it just as badly as you do because you fucking love to swallow him. “Is the big bad devil going to choke me?”

   “Mhm. That’s right, angel. The devil’s gonna choke you alright.” He pushes your head down until your lips are molded to his cock, driving you down down down until you’re gasping for breath. When he brings you back up for air, he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his mouth you’ve ever seen.

   “Look at you. Fuckin’ droolin’ and makin’ a mess on my cock, babygirl,” he smirks, pupils blown wide as he takes in your tear-soaked face. 

   “Mhm. Your mess,” you breathe out with a gasp. 

   He chuckles and nods his head, his tousled curls now messy and disheveled against his sweat-drenched forehead. “That’s right, love. My mess,” he smiles, his light brown irises glistening under his blown-out pupils. “Wanna deepthroat me, sweetheart?”

   You nod up at him with tired eyes, wanting nothing more than to make him cum. “Yes, daddy,” you mewl. 

   “That’s my good girl,” he praises. 

   You settle your palms on his strong thighs, hovering just above his swollen tip. He repositions his hand and fists your hair gently, slowly pulling you back down until you’re sliding your pursed lips over his thick length, taking in his deep musk that masks the stifling air. 

   Taking a deep breath, you get in position and let him work you up and down his length, his hips starting to rut up until he’s fucking your mouth at a rapid pace. You hollow your cheeks, suck him deeper as he thrusts his cock in and out, making you gurgle and gag around his thick width.

   “Jesus Christ, takin’ me like such a good girl. Feels—fuck. Feels good, baby. You still okay?” he chokes out, sweat beading down his tanned forehead as you squeeze his thigh and look up at him through watery eyes. The signal you give him to show him you’re just fine.

   “I’m so… goddamn it. Need to feel you,” he groans, fucking his cock deeper down your throat. As deep as he can go without suffocating you. You just take it, let him pull your hair forcefully, let him hear just how full of him you are, let him use you to get the release he deserves.

   “I’m ’bout to… ‘bout to cum. Ahhhh fuck. Right there. I’m right fuckin’ there,” he moans, throwing his head back as he fucks your throat relentlessly.

   The room starts to spin like a tornado as he shoves you down, deepthroating you as much as you can take. Drool coats your chin. Sputtering, obscene noises fill the room as your throat constricts around his fat cock. You have to breathe through your nose to get any airflow because you’re suffocating.

   Your vision blackens, throat so full of drool and his cock that you think you’ll pass out. Think you might just see heaven’s gates before Joel orgasms. 

   Just when you think you’re done for, Joel’s guttural groans pull you out of the fog. Your nose nudges against his coarse hair, lips molded around his huge width, throat open and squeezing around him as tears stream down your ruined face. 

   “That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you—want you to swallow,” he moans, fingers locked tight in your hair, pulling your head down until you feel him start to spill.

   “Right there. Right—ahhhh fuck.” He’s coming undone, hot ropes of cum leaking down your throat. That salty taste that makes you cross your eyes and suck him down.

   You can’t feel anything but his seed coating your throat,  cum spilling over your smeared red lips, drool caking your chin and sliding down his balls. He’s fucking wrecked. Just like you are. 

   You stay right there, hands firmly on his thighs, lapping up the delicious salt of him until he’s slowly coming back down from his high. And then you’re slowly getting pulled off his long length, drool coating his softening cock.

   You sputter out, coughing violently from being choked by Joel’s thick cock. His large hand glides between your shoulder blades, trying to help you swallow it all down, get ahold of yourself once more. And when you finally feel like you can breathe the stifling air, you collapse against his thigh, cheek pressed against tanned skin as you focus on deep breaths.

   You feel his hand gently massage the back of your scalp, rubbing light circles on the crown of your head as he whispers for you to relax. It feels good. Feels relaxing when he’s caressing you like this. Like you’re his best girl. 

   You are his best girl.

   “Easy now, baby. Jus’ breathe. Did so good for me,” he coos, fingers lacing through your now messy curls. You know you’re a fucking mess, but you just don’t care. 

   “Did I make you feel good, daddy?” you ask, speech a little slurred and voice hoarse from deepthroating Joel.

   He lifts your chin up, index finger and thumb stroking your skin, starting a warm flame kindling in your body. When you lift your eyes, you’re met with warm, syrupy eyes. Eyes that you fell in love with the moment you saw them that first day at the lake.

   His smile is so warm, so big. He looks like he has stars in his brown eyes the way he’s looking at you. All in love while his thumb caresses lovingly against your cheek. “Mhm. Made daddy feel real good, pretty girl,” he grins, eyes shimmering like onyx under the dim lights. 

   God, you love this man.

   “Yeah?” you ask, giggling when he leans down and gets right at eye level with you, a huge smile curling over his plush mouth.

   “Yeah,” he confirms, pushing a loose curl behind your ear before he pulls you into his broad body. His lips crash against yours. His whiskey taste serenading your tongue, woodsy scent making you heated and dizzy from the smell of him. He’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Addicting and dangerous but yet bottled up with love and care. 

   When he pulls away from you, he smirks, hand trailing down your breasts, going south until he’s trying to slide between your thighs. “Now, let me take care of this—”

   You stop him right there, shoving his hand away with a tsk. “We need to go, baby. We’ll be late.”

   “But I…”

   “Later,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, brushing your lips against warm skin and leaving a red lipstick mark on his cheek.

   He chuckles and nods, teasing his calloused fingers along the nape of your neck. “Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ know that when we get home tonight, I’m takin’ real good care of that pussy. Understand?” He gives you that look. The one that makes your skin tingle and clit pulse with need. You’re going to suffer through this entire Halloween party if he keeps teasing you like that. 

   “Understood, handsome. You going to do that one thing? You know, that special trick with your tongue. What do you call it? Tongue twister,” you giggle while he throws back his head and lets out a belly-aching chuckle. One that makes warmth bubble up inside you. You could listen to him laugh for hours. That melodic, carefree sound. You love to see him happy.

   He wipes off some of the drool and red lipstick on the sleeve of his flannel, laughing as he cleans you off. “You’re such a mess. You know that?”

   You give him a big toothy smile and nod. “Mhm. You love it, though.”

   He sighs and shakes his head, chuckling while he strokes his thumb under the bottom of your lip. “Mmm, yeah. I love you, pretty girl.”

   “I love you too, Joel,” you murmur, eyes glossy. You’re so in love. You give him a quick peck to the cheek and smile up at him, like he’s your entire world.

   He scoops you up off the floor and leads you to the bathroom, littering kisses up and down your jawline. “C’mon. Let’s get your cleaned up before we go. Don’t need ‘em knowin’ what we’ve been doin’ tonight,” he laughs. 

   After he cleans you off with a warm washcloth, you fix your costume and hair. Red lips glossy again, halo straight, wings flat against your back, corset back in place, miniskirt grazing your thighs. And then he takes your hand and leads you down the stairs, into his truck, and to the party.

   Halloween parties were always something you loved, but what you loved more was making Joel Miller, the love of your life, feel good. And that’s exactly what you did tonight. 

   You made his entire Halloween once again.

Tagging a few moots 🩵 @almostfoxglove @almostempty @magpiepills @sanarsi @ace-turned-confused

@aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn @burntheedges

[landograndprix]

My yellow ✾ d.r

summary: you're not the only two who love your marriage.

requested: yes!

a/n: I'm having way too much fun with these, please keep requesting them 🥺

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y/nricciardo

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 802,786 others

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 1,421 comments

y/nbabees here she goes again, what is the context bestie????

danieldr3 what love language is this?

y/nricciardo tough loving

charlos5516 and they say romance is dead

loverskies29 Daniel is holding up 4 fingers...4th album soon? 👀

y/nluvu god I hope so it's been too long :(

danielricciardo exploiting your husband again?

y/nricciardo so he is good for something?

norrizz4 should we get the divorce papers ready? 👀

ricienation mother make new music please we've been starving, there's no crumbs left

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danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, y/nricciardo and 798,543 others

danielricciardo happy birthday to the wife who has the best husband in the world, you're so lucky to have this handsome men by your side, you should always remember this. Happy birthday, my luv. ❤️

tagged: y/nricciardo, landonorris

view all 876 comments

landos4 crying why'd you post a picture of lando 😭

leclercc_16 that's his wife, what do you mean?

y/nricciardo can confirm, I'm just a side piece.

landonorris thanks luv. ❤️

scottyjames31 love the cake, facts were spoken.

dr3ln4 watch it scotty, her next song will be about you 🤪

scottyjames31 it'd be an honor

y/nupdates y/n is a whole mood in the last picture, unbothered queen. ���

dannyswife favorite couple 🥰

y/nricciardo posted on their story

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y/nricciardo

liked by mclaren, danielricciardo and 178,254 others

y/nricciardo something in the orange

tagged: mclaren, danielricciardo

view all 978 comments

sharlos55 supportive wife y/n activated

y/nricric you don't understand how much I've missed you on the grid, you looked fabulous once again 😍

y/nricciardo using my man's and his team to promote my new song once again? you bet your sweet ass I am. #ColorsComingSoon

y/nfan004 rip to the people who don't read the comments 😭

Bott_ass you can't just drop this out of the nowhere, I'm hyperventilating 😫

danniericario I'm convinced flipping you off is Daniel's way of saying I love you

y/nricciardo oh no, he really can't stand me but same to be honest

danielricciardo ❤️

dr3ln4 babe wake up mom and dad are being mom and dad again

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y/nricciardo

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 217,111 others

y/nricciardo it's been a while but after months of writing and producing with the best team ever, my new song Colors is out now on Apple music & spotify 🧡

view all 1,999 comments

zoeeeey I could've used a warning of sorts 🤯

mickschummy when have we ever had a solid release date for anything, bestie is so chaotic she'll drop an song or album whenever she wants 😭

y/nnnnn2000 we've been fed!!

redbulldanny is this song about Daniel?

y/nricciardo don't tell him, it'll boost his ego 😉

landonorris this about me, right?

charles_leclerc this will be on repeat for days!

thefridgirlies we love a bunch of supportive friends 🥰

danielricciardo big fan of this

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y/nricciardo

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 214,542 others

y/nricciardo three years ago, this man made the best decision of his life by marrying me. It's amazing how we've tolerated each other for this long but all jokes aside, thanks for making me feel loved every hour of the day ♡♡

We'll keep saying it; marry your best friend ❤️

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 1,216 comments

sainzchili happy anniversary to you 2! 💞

landonorris congrats mom and dad ❤️

landochaos have they adopted you already?

Isahernaez happy anniversary! ❤️

y/nricciardo ❤️

chilileclerc_ your up next Isa!

dannielricc 3 years?! It seems like yesterday we first saw you in the paddock 😭

danielricciardo and here i thought that we were just partners for one night. ❤️

maxmaxmax DANIEL 💀 💀

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danielricciardo posted on their story

[pocket-jack]

Hey, guys! I decided to torture myself before sleep beacause... Why not? So, here's KidKiller's rough sheets with some headcanons I have for the guys (probably with a lot off mistakes cus my browser refuses to fix them for me)

Kid time, baby

I draw him differently now. I know his face looks more... diamond shaped in anime, but I can't get rid of his square coded energy, so... Heart-shaped it is!

When he recieved his eye scar he didn't lose the ability to see, but now it get's dry really fast and if he won't do something about it it'll gonna ache.

He had multiple piercings on his ear, but his powers just kept pulling them and one day almost ripped his ear of, so he (with a manly tears) decided to take them off.

I headcanon him wearing a corset, because he's a little chubby and he can't get rid of this extra fat (not with his appetites). Also everytime when he takes it off, not only he's forced to look at his hanging stomach, but he's also has to fight off Killer. Killer's only dream was for Kid to be well fed and happy.

Nor his, nor Killer's sexuality is defined by them, but actually based out of other's observations. Kid is pansexual because he's kinda gender blind. For him it's confusing that you're weak just because you have tits and extra hole between your legs. He's also demiromantic. Both of those preference he acquired during Kutsukku (where you couldn't trust anyone, even your lover. And where the gender norms were the least of your concerns)

He also have undiagnosed ADHD which mostly give him extra impulsivity and also now the metal can speak (thank ye, neurodivergency!). Sometimes it's stresses him the hell off, especially during Kutsukku. He could not sleep because of all of this buzzing he kept hearing from EVERYWHERE. Now he can control it, but sometimes it returnd and he has to suffer.

Metal also responds to his hidden emotions. It may float when he thinks, reflects or remembering something. It may rumble when he's angry, concerned, scared. Or it may form something if he's happy, in love or something like that.

He's hard rock kinda guy, we all know this, but I headcanon him as a music lover in general (so whatever makes his brain go bzzt, mostly rock). I find Thrown a couple of month ago and it's sounds like something Kid would like (probably even kin, esp Backfire). MSI is a basic thing for him to have (every punk need at least one song in their playlist). I guess not every person will understand it, but Пшлнхй is such a Kid coded song (Every Russian proverb, but one part is just sending you to fuck yourself is something that Kid would do irl. The chorus is just... mmm)

Killer, my beloved!!!!

I love headcanoning him as androgenous. He has a feminine features: oval shaped face, eyes with big eyelashes, even his lips is a little softer than the average male lips. That is the main reason why he hid his face, because everyone would bully him fot it when he was young. Killer was confused with a girl a lot during his time on Kutsukku.

During timeskip he strained a lot of muscles just to get stronger. He was neglecting himself most of the time, because he had a mission: to become stronger so he'll never fail to protect Kid ever again. They also been really distant during their training. Only when Killer hurted his arm they bounded again. Kid was surprisingly a good mentor for his healing. Probably because their trauma was almost the same

When he's wearing a mask he usually get's his hair out of the way so it wouldn't mess with his vision

Pre timeskip he wanted to work on his style, feeling obliged to do so, cus his crew was dressing up in colorful styles. He choose to fit into more West Bluish kinda style (cowboy boots and pants). But then anxiety hitted him and suddenly he felt too vissible and everyone was looking at him and... Let's just say it wasn't a pleasant expirience for him. He just wanted to show that he was a part of the crew too, but now he feels himself too overreacting and dramatic and stuff. It took a lot of time for everyone to convince him that it wasn't about the look, but more about the comfort. With their support Killer started wearing something he likes more, and it felt fantastic. He actually started to like himself in the mirror a bit more after timeskip and then Wano happened

Killer is asexual beacuse of the amount of trauma he suffered during his childhood. I hc him having a low libido too. He's still feels romantic attraction (only for Kid), and if he asks, Killer will have sex with him without hesitation. But it's only for Kid, OR for his sake

It is so logical for him to have OCD. Just him casualy living and then the dread that if he won't do something usefull his crew will see how fucking usless and worthless he actually is and live him behind the same his parents did just suddenly hits him. Oh hey! Anxiety! Abandonment issues! This man will explode, please, give him a hug.

It got worse after Wano. He's doing bad things with his face and no one knows. Even Kid. (I love making them suffer for the sake of Hurt\Comfort)

I am 100% sure Killer is a Queen guy. It just gives me Killer vibes... The same with Elton John. And also... To fit in his pre timeskip cowboy vibes into the oven,,, He's actually like country rock alongside with glam rock. Barns Courtney is his favorate

So... How do you like my silly little headcanons? Maybe I post something about Heat and Wire too. Welp, I'm fainting out of exaustion, bye!

[yourmomxx]

Father of Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: All Dean Winchester ever wanted was to protect the people he loved. Sometimes, in order to do that, he had to make hard decisions, Lisa and Ben were the prime example. Years after making another one of those hard decisions, he has to come back to the place where he had left a piece of his heart - only to be constantly reminded of what he had to sacrifice in order to keep his family safe.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,2k

a/n: I’ve been writing this story for … a year now? I think? And I’ve gotta admit, I am so happy that it is finally out. Everything that I write means incredibly much to me, but this story just holds such a special place in my heart and I am very happy to share it now with you guys. I do hope you like it, and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated because that way the story gets spread to more people! Now, enjoy!

flashbacks are written in italics

pt1 pt2 pt3

Cleveland, Ohio 2002

The bar was crowded with people.

Gruffed men wearing leather jackets and intoxicated women in crop-tops were all sprawled out around an alcohol booth in the middle.

In another corner, currently bathed in purple and orange spotlight, a guy with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a bucket-hat was giving a lousy cover of ‘God save the Queen’ by Sex Pistols.

♫ ♪ “Don't be told what you want. Don't be told what you need. There's no future, no future, no future for you!” ♫ ♪

On one of the way too small bar chairs, sipping a burning mix of whiskey and ginger ale, was sitting Dean Winchester, and he was pissed.

Pissed at his stupid father, who was acting like Dean was a 15-year-old with no common sense whatsoever, pissed at the goddamn ghost that had found an incredible pleasure in almost ripping his fingers off his hands, and pissed at stupid Sam for just getting up one day and leaving him - didn’t matter if that had been months ago.

And with every drink that Dean downed, he started feeling more like “Dad can kiss my ass” instead of “Dad has been doing this much longer than you and just knows better”. Meaning, he should probably slow down.

But whatever.

His Dad could kiss his ass.

♫ ♪ “Oh when there's no future, how can there be sin? We're the flowers in the dustbin!” ♫ ♪

“Why, hello,” he suddenly heard a sweet voice next to him say.

Dean turned his head and was met face to face with friendly, glimmering eyes.

Those, just as the voice that had spoken to him, belonged to a young woman who seemed to have just appeared next to him.

He moved his gaze up and down her body.

Apart from her eyes, she had smooth skin, that was covered with glowing sweatpearls, most likely because of the stuffy air around them.

Or maybe, just like Dean, she had had a couple drinks too many.

A few, fine strands of her shoulder-length hair were tousled, likely from combing her hands through it.

He licked his lips. “Well, hello you. With whom do I have the pleasure?”

He was laying on thick and he knew that, but it’s not like he could care about it.

“Gloria. Richards.” She was speaking in a soft, honey voice, and Dean urged himself to focus on her face, and not the way her neck and chest were lightly gleaming from the thin layer of sweat covering them.

“What’s yours?”

Dean Winchester.

But no, that wasn’t his name. Not today at least. If he could just remember what was. And the drinks didn’t exactly make thinking easier.

“Dean Hansley.”

Gloria smiled again.

What a nice smile she had.

"Dean Hansley." She tasted the words, let them burn on her tongue. "That's a nice name."

And then she sat down at the stool next to him, without waiting for him to invite her, and she started talking.

And he talked back with her.

And time went by, and she kept finishing and ordering drinks, that Dean all offered to pay, and she never refused.

By now, the guy in the Hawaiian shirt had been thrown off the karaoke stage, after heavily throwing up into one of the other guest's handbags, halfway through a tedious ballad about life, and love, and its misery.

The only source of music was coming from the colorful jukebox next to the pool board.

A couple drunk-off-their-asses idiots, trying to play billiards, were loudly roaring along to AC/DC’s ‘You shook me all night long’.

♫ ♪ “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean, she was the best damn woman that I ever seen!” ♫ ♪

Gloria was still sitting next to him, although a bit closer, and she was sipping at her third drink he had bought her tonight.

And damn, that girl had high tolerance.

Dean thought she was amazing.

“That thing with your family sucks, really.” She scrunched up her nose in slight discomfort.

Dean let out a humorless laugh and took a sip of the whiskey he was still stuck with. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Yes, he had told her about his - family issues. But so what?

It felt nice having someone listening to him for a change. Someone who wasn’t his family, didn’t even know them, and wouldn’t try to disregard his frustration by telling him to ‘put himself in his father’s shoes for once’.

Gloria finished her drink and used the palm of her hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

Dean tried his best to not think too much about her knee touching his, her being so close him.

“The air in here is terrible,” she said, heavily emphasizing the last word.

Dean’s attention was turned to her again. He knew she had said something before that, but he hadn’t been able to catch it, too lost in his own mind.

He kind of felt bad for not listening to her.

Dean threw a look around.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty hot in here,” he agreed, feeling pearls of sweat rolling off the little hairs on his neck.

Gloria looked directly into his eyes, then up his body, down his body, before settling on his eyes again.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Then her lip.

“I mean,” she slowly spoke, “we could continue this conversation somewhere else if you want. Where there’s not so many people and the air doesn’t taste like salt.”

♫ ♪ “You really took me and you shook me all night long! Ooh, you shook me all night long!” ♫ ♪

Hell yeah.

A boyish grin started forming on his face.

“An offer like that - how could I say no?”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

“Read it again for me.”

Dean was staring straight ahead onto the road, his gaze hard and jaw clenched.

Sam sighed and opened the newspaper again, for what had to be the seventh time now since they had first found it.

They were both sitting in the Impala, Castiel in the backseat. The angel could have just flipped his wings and flown to the destination they were headed, but he had insisted to take the drive with them, claiming he had “nothing better to do anyway”.

“St. George, Louisiana,” Sam started to read.

“In the night of Wednesday to Thursday, a young man was found dead in his room in Saint George’s Children’s Home. The 17-year-old Roy Kendall hadn’t come out of his room the first half of the day, and when a woman of the working personnel - whose name has been withheld - came to check on him, she discovered his mutilated body draped out on the bed. According to the police, the young man’s rib cage had been compressed with such force that his ribs were broken and had managed to pierce through the young man’s internal organs, which resulted in him slowly bleeding out internally. Authorities are still in the dark about the exact details of the tragedy and the questions of “Why” and, particularly, “How” something like this could even be possible. The head of the Children’s Care Institution …, blah blah blah.”

Sam purposefully drifted off and ended his reading session therefore. He folded the newspaper back together and stuffed it into the Impala’s globe compartment.

“And that’s it, I am not reading this again. Next thing you know, I’m going to dream about squished organs and ribcages.”

He shuddered.

“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s complaints, but he didn’t seem to address anyone in particular.

“I mean, I checked everything, Sammy. No demonic omens, no strategic killings, no recent disappearances. That place was all white picket fences and summer barbecues when we- ”

He was quick to cut himself off.

Sam threw his brother a side glance, but decided to not address his slip-up.

“Well, Dean, sometimes monsters just … turn up, you know.” This time Sam turned his head to get a proper look at his older brother.

“Maybe it’s just passing through, or simply moved there from somewhere else. They aren’t exactly tied to a specific place.”

Dean ran his hand over his face and through his hair in distress. “Out of all places, why there?” He muttered in a low tone.

And again, he was more talking to himself than anyone else.

“I don’t understand.” Cas was suddenly talking from the back seat. “What is in this Children’s Home that is of so much importance to you both?”

Dean was quick to answer a “Nothing,” but Castiel didn’t quite believe him.

Sam turned in his seat to face the angel.

“We were working a case near there a while back,” he simply explained.

Cas frowned, still not quite convinced, but he decided to let the topic rest. For now, at least.

“I understand,” he said. “Then it would probably be of benefit for you to stick with your past aliases. Just in case anyone there should recognize you.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Dean vaguely answered, but he seemed trapped deep in his own thoughts.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Black Hawk, Colorado 2002

“To listen to this voicemail, call-”

A dial tone sounded. The message was a few months old.

“Hey, Dean, it’s uh … it’s Gloria. You know, Gloria Richards, from a few nights ago?” A humorless chuckle was heard on the other end of the line.

“Though, guys like you don’t usually remember their casual one-night hookups. So I’ll cut straight to the chase.” One heavy inhale.

“I’m pregnant. And I know the chances of you wanting anything to do with me are zero to negative six, but I just wanted to-”

“To delete this voicemail, press 2.”

A tone.

“Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to this voicema-”

The woman on the other end sounded more outraged this time, even though occasional cracks or hiccups in her voice gave away that she had been heavily crying moments before. Maybe still was.

“Hello Dean, it’s me again. You know, I didn’t expect you to jump up high at the news, but ignoring me?” She scoffed. “That’s a different type of low.”

She sniffled. “I’m just calling to tell you I’ve decided to keep the baby. So you can still change your mind, if you-”

“To delete this voicemail, press-” “Voicemail deleted.”

“To listen to th-”

“Hello, Dean. It’s Gloria. Again.”

This time, she seemed calmer, which could be reasoned with the tiredness her voice was radiating.

“I suppose I’m still kind of hoping that you will call me back. Or even pick up.” She sighed.

“I wanted to tell you that she’s perfectly healthy and growing. That’s right. She. Our baby is going to be a-”

“To delete this-” ”Voicemail deleted.”

John Winchester stared at the small phone in his hand and pressed a button.

“You have no more voicemails.”

That moment, Dean came bursting into the motel room, looking around the empty shelves and patting up and down his jacket- and jeans-pockets.

“Hey Dad, do you know where my phone is? I heard it ringing,” Dean asked.

“Yes, just some spam-callers,” John neatly lied. “I took care of it, but I’m gonna put it out of service, just in case.”

Dean looked at him and for a moment, John thought his son would grow suspicious, but he just nodded. “Alright. Thanks, Dad.”

John nodded and Dean left the room with his bag in hand. When he was certain Dean wouldn’t come back, John took the phone apart and crashed the SIM Card on the nightstand with the lamp.

Then he put the pieces in the bin, took his duffel bag and followed his son to the car.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

The St. George’s Children’s Home was somewhat of a small castle, kept in a renaissance style.

Around a large courtyard, archways connected four round-towers, which were slightly higher than the rest of the castle. The walls were painted a pale yellow.

Trees grew in the gardens around the castle, flowers in planted beds, and as far as Dean could remember, there was a hedge maze behind the walls, not visible from the gateway.

They had parked the Impala in one of the parking spaces next to the tall, elegant terrain fence.

Sam and Dean were wearing black suits and their fake badges, Castiel - as always - stuck with the trench coat.

Dean was eyeing the building suspiciously.

In fact, he had been doing so for the last three minutes, in which they had all sat in the Impala in complete silence.

Sam threw a quick, concerned glance at his brother before clearing his throat.

“You really wanna do this?”, he asked quietly.

“No,” Dean answered and opened the car door, “But it’s not like we have a choice, right?”

Sam sighed and did the same, not before exchanging a quick, apprehensive look with Castiel, who still didn’t quite know what was going on.

The castle’s inside was considerably more modern than its outside.

With brightly-colored walls and furniture, and minimalistic decorations all over.

It seemed cozy.

They were headed for the office of the youth center’s director, Maria Whitlock. Dean remembered exactly where that was. Down the hall, left. Past a few closed bedroom doors. Last door at the end of the corridor.

Dean cleared his throat and knocked on the door, Sam right behind him. Castiel had left before they had entered the castle, claiming to look for a suitable Motel nearby, and telling them to contact him if they needed his help.

There was a beat of silence before they heard a woman’s voice reply “Yes?” and entered the office.

Maria Whitlock was an elderly woman, with dark red hair that she kept in a low bun. She was around a head smaller than Dean, and wearing a grey blouse combined with a wine red jacket and a black pencil skirt.

When she heard them enter the room, she looked up from a few papers she was filing, and her face immediately fell.

“Hello, Maria.” Sam greeted her.

“Dean and Sam Winchester,” she breathed out, startled.

“I never thought I would see you two again.”

Dean felt a sting in his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Sam said and tried a clumsy smile. A heavy silence followed, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.

Maria frowned. “Not to seem impolite, but what are the two of you doing here?” She asked.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.

“We, uhm, we heard about Roy and we thought that, maybe, we should just check if everything was alright and, of course, speak our condolences. You know, for old time’s sake.”

She nodded and closed the pen. “Yes, right. Roy. I completely forgot that they put that in the paper.”

A look of dark grief fell over her face and her gaze drifted into nothingness. She suddenly looked much older than she was.

Dean cleared his throat. “I gave you my number, Maria,” he spoke. “If you would’ve called, we could’ve been here sooner.”

She blinked rapidly, pulling herself out of her thoughts and looked at him for a second before she replied.

“I know, I know, but to be honest - it slipped my mind, in between all of this … chaos and tragedy.”

While she was talking, she got up from her chair and walked around the table, getting a clearer view at Sam and Dean.

“Of course,” Sam hastily said. “No worries. We are very sorry for your loss.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Dean was glad that it had been Sam who had spoken up. He wasn’t very good at that sort of things. Nor did he aspire to be.

“You said you were here because of Roy’s …. passing,” Maria continued, and the brothers nodded.

“But that would mean that this was some sort of - unnatural incident.”

Sam swallowed hard.

“Well,” he started, trying to find the right words that would not trigger a breakdown for the woman, “we saw the article in the newspaper and thought that we would just have a look at it. The circumstances of Roy’s passing aren’t exactly common for a person his age, after all.”

Or for any person, really.

She nodded lazily. “Yes. I suppose you are right.”

Dean could swear that another minute of awkward silence between them would probably kill him, so he took it upon himself to prevent it before it started.

“I get that this is hard, Maria,” he said, “But if we could maybe ask you some questions? Maybe speak to the person that found him?”

She sniffled.

Oh dear God.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Her voice was a bit higher than before, and her hands grabbed for a handkerchief lying on the table.

“Uhm, the woman who found him was one of my responsible supervisors, Betty Langston. She should be present in the building today, but the last time I spoke to her, she was still pretty shaken up. I mean, who can blame her? I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, seeing that poor boy lying on his bed, just- ”

She broke off and a sob escaped her lips, before she buried her face in the kerchief.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m sorry, it’s just - he was such a kind boy. He had his whole life ahead of him. And the way that he had to go…”

She raised her head and shook it, eyes reddened and filled with tears.

“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.”

“We understand, Maria,” Sam spoke in a comforting, low voice.

And Dean added, “And I promise we will find whatever did this and make sure this happens to no one ever again.”

She forced herself to a smile.

“Thank you, boys. May the angels be with you.”

Dean forbid himself a snort.

“Thank you for your time, Maria. We will let you know when we know more,” Sam said and left the office.

He wouldn’t risk making her cry again by bothering her with questions about her dead fosterling.

Dean smiled at Maria and turned to follow his brother, but she stopped him.

“Dean.”

He turned to face her.

“You do know that it won’t be possible for you to investigate here, without … encountering a certain someone.”

Dean straightened his shoulders.

“Yes, I know.”

“Have you thought about it? What you will say to her?”

“Gotta admit, I haven’t.”

She hummed and nodded. Dean noticed that she had resumed her usual upright position, and if he hadn’t just witnessed it, he probably would not know that she had been crying.

“I should warn you,” she said gently, “It probably won’t be easy.”

“I honestly didn’t expect it to be.”

She smiled a gentle smile at him and he returned it, before finally leaving the room and joining his brother in the hallway.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Lewiston, Michigan 2004

The first time he had read it, John Winchester had been drunk. He had spared a quick glance at it after coming home from a bar, before throwing himself onto the motel bed and passing out.

The second time he had read it, he had been sober, but suffering from a skull-splitting headache.

The third time he read it, it was simply to make sure his hungover mind wasn’t making any of this up. But no, the words on the newspaper stayed the same, grinning up at him with a sickening smirk that made his stomach turn.

In the small corner of the left page, where the lesser important news were usually placed, throned the bold-printed, black words:

24-year-old woman dies in tragic car accident, leaves 1-year-old daughter behind

No. God, no.

He read it again. Read the headline, read the article, the name that had been shortened but to him unmistakable: Gloria R.

R. Just like Richards. Gloria Richards.

There was a picture placed right next to the text, held in color, of a young woman that was clearly putting on a smile for the camera.

John slammed the newspaper on the round table.

“Damn it!” He yelled.

And in that moment, John was grateful that Dean had offered to go on a coffee run.

—

He was ‘going on a quick hunt’. That’s what he told Dean.

He was ‘going on a quick hunt and if anyone needed anything, they should contact Dean’. That’s what he told Bobby. And everyone that reached his voicemail.

Cleveland, Ohio. That’s where he was going. He had some business to attend to.

—

Central Nebraska

To say that Ellen Harvelle wasn’t delighted about John Winchester showing up inside the Roadhouse would be quite an understatement.

She was furious.

John paid attention to enter the wooden cabin carefully. He didn’t expect Ellen to be pleased by his sudden presence, especially considering their last encounter with each other.

It was a random Wednesday afternoon, and there wasn’t anyone seated in the Roadhouse, except for Ellen herself, who was busy cleaning the bar with a half-wet kitchen towel.

The brunette woman looked up for a quick second, as a form of formality, before she dedicated her attention back onto the dirty surface.

“I’ll be with you in a secon-” Then she realized. Stopped. Did a double take.

“Winchester.” The word was dripping from her lips with loathing.

“Hello, Ellen,” he started, but she cut him off.

“What do you want?” Her question was blunt and her tone cold and unwelcoming.

John cleared his throat and stepped from one foot to the other. He had to sell his story good, if Ellen wouldn’t get on board with his proposition, he had nobody else to go to.

“Look, Ellen. I get that you’re mad- ”

“Mad?” She let out a short, sour laugh.

“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling towards you, Winchester. Try hatred. Pure disgust.” She scoffed again.

“You must have a death wish, because I couldn’t think of any other possible reason why you would drag your dumbass out here again. ”

John swallowed hard. She was right. Who was he to just show up here again? After what happened?

But there was no turning back now, he had to go through with this.

“You’re right.” He spoke in a low tone to try and seem less intimidating and also attempt to soothe her temper towards him.

“I am sorry about what happened, Ellen. If I could go back and do it any different, then I would.”

A lie. She knew that. He knew that she knew that. Still - she didn’t interrupt, just kept glaring at him, so he decided to continue.

“But unfortunately, I can’t. And I know you have every right and reason to hate me now.”

Agreeing and empathizing with her.

“But there is something extremely important that I need to ask of you.”

Again, he didn’t have much time to talk, before Ellen raised her voice.

“You damned son of a bitch!”, she yelled, tossing the kitchen towel onto the counter with such force, the leftover water splashed around.

“You ain’t got no right walking in here, after what you pulled, and ask a goddamned favor of me!”

Her voice was loud in the silence of the Roadhouse and John lifted his hands up in defense.

“Ellen, please! Listen to me!”, he pleaded. Ellen wasn’t yelling at him anymore, but her jaw was still clenched and her entire body tense.

“I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options. Like you said, I must have a Deathwish to show up here. And I understand that. But you are the only person that I can trust with this. You can toss me out all you want after. You can yell, and scream, and punch me, and shoot at me. Just please, hear me out first. ”

There was silence, where John just stood there, his hands still raised in the air in front of him, and Ellen grinding her teeth as she thought about what to do now.

Because by God, did she hate him. And a part of her wanted to take a rifle and first shoot a bullet into his feet and then his di-

But on the other hand, she could not recall a time that John Winchester had ever gotten himself into a position to beg.

No, he was too proud for that. So whatever he wanted must be goddamn important for him, really.

“Tell me what you need, Winchester,” Ellen said eventually, “And let me decide afterwards.”

Her body language didn’t show one sign of hospitality still, but John interpreted her words as somewhat of a good sign.

Hopefully.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

After their talk with Maria, Sam and Dean settled on questioning Betty Langston.

In the middle of the wall in the entrance hall, a big frame with the pictures, names and duties of the working staff was hung up.

Above the name ‘Betty Langston’ was a picture of a friendly looking woman in her mid-twenties, with a pointed nose and blonde strands of hair framing her face.

Underneath, the duties “Social Worker” and “Deputy Manager” were listed.

When they knocked on the door which was labeled “staff”, a young man opened and told them that Betty Langston was currently positioned on the second floor.

Dean wanted to take the elevator, but Sam dragged him up the stairs.

“It will be faster,” he guaranteed, and Dean just rolled his eyes with a groan.

The hallways on the second floor were surprisingly wide, with doors placed across each other in a zig zag pattern.

Here and there were a few paintings on the walls, old and new, and green neon signs pointing toward the emergency exit.

They met Betty after they turned around the first corner. She stood in front of a pinboard and was currently hanging up new posters.

Her hair was different from the picture, slightly longer now ending halfway down her back, and copper colored with only a few blonde highlights.

The brothers made their way over to her and flashed their fake FBI-badges when she let off her work and shifted her attention to them.

“Hello, my name is David Shields, my partner’s name is Jarvis Stark,” introduced Dean. “Are you Betty Langston?”

The young woman gaped at them, slightly caught off guard. “Uhm yes, that’s me,” she eventually got out and lowered her arms. “What can I do for you?”

Dean caught a glimpse of the writing on the poster. It was a few phone numbers, and in dark blue, a text above read: ‘DON’T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP!’

“We’re here to ask you about Roy Kendall,” Sam carefully approached, “We understand that you are the one who found him.”

Dean couldn’t help but notice how Betty Langston’s eyes shifted to the floor and she nervously trailed her fingers up and down the paper in her hand.

“Um yes, I … I found him.” Her voice got small and she swallowed hard.

“But what does the FBI want with that? I thought it was a wild animal.”

“Given the unusual occurrence of Roy’s death, we thought it necessary to at least have a look at this case and find out what we can,” Sam said.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything, though,” Dean quickly tried to soothe her when he noticed the tears springing in the woman’s eyes. “Exactly,” Sam hastily agreed. “Only a few questions, just in case.”

Betty nodded and blinked away her tears. “Okay,” she quietly said. Sam reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

“Did Roy mention something … I don’t know, unusual before he died?” Sam asked, clicking the pen and bringing his notepad in position. The young woman hesitated.

“Well, not that I know of,” she eventually said, “But, you see, kids at that age … they don’t talk to us adults much anymore. If you want to know something about Roy, you better ask his friends.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “His friends?” He repeated. She nodded. “Mhm.”

“And, uh - who are his friends, if I may ask?” Sam tuned in again. Betty thought for a second and then clicked her tongue. “Well, there’s Cassandra, Cassandra Claire,” she said and started counting the listed names on her fingers. “And, uhm, Finnegan Beckett.” Sam repeated the children’s names under his breath as he quickly wrote them down.

“And Y/N Winchester,” Betty finished.

Sam abruptly stopped writing at the ‘n’ and looked up. He felt Dean visibly tense and shift next to him.

The younger brother just put on a smile and folded the small notepad back into the inner pocket of his jacket. But not before completely writing out the last name on the list.

“Thank you so much, Miss Langston, you helped us a lot. We will let you know if there are any more questions. And, our condolences,” he added.

She shyly smiled back at him and slowly continued gathering thumbtacks to hang up her posters, and the brothers left.

Sam waited until they were out of hearing range, then turned to Dean. “So…that was something,” he carefully started.

“What do you mean?”

Sam threw him a look. “You know what I mean. The witness list. Roy’s friends. That last name…”

Dean sighed heavily. Sam waited for him to say something. And when he didn’t, Sam just shook his head but decided to not stress it any further.

“So, where to now?” He asked instead.

Dean took a look at his watch. “The morgue, I’d say. As far as I know they’re closing soon, and a dead body is not exactly the first thing I need to see in the morning, so-”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.”

They made their way out of the castle.

“You want to take Castiel?” Sam questioned when he rounded the car.

“No,” Dean decided firmly and opened the driver’s door. “Remember what happened last time? Exactly. I don’t need Cas smelling some dead guy again.”

Sam grinned at the memory. With a creak, the Impala gave in to their weight as they sat down, and the gravel gnashed under her tires when they drove off.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2006

Roughly, the dark minivan tuckered over the bumpy earth of the pathetic excuse of a road, and Dean’s insides flinched with every squeak the old car made.

When they finally came to a stop, he tossed the keys somewhere and maybe slammed the door with a bit more force than necessary. A lot more.

“This is humiliating,” he grumbled, as he took in the atrocious excuse of a vehicle they just stepped out of. He missed his Baby.

Sam ignored him, and stepped forward, towards the old wooden – house? Shack? – the mysterious phone number on their dad’s cell had led them to.

The huge letters ROADHOUSE flaunted above them, and Dean thought that these were probably made to light up when the sun disappeared.

The rest of the house looked abandoned, frankly, from the outside, and that, in combination with the four-month-old voicemail, made Dean not like his odds very much. The chances that this Ellen chick was still alive, knowing what his father had needed her for, were slim in his mind.

Or hell, maybe she just called from here, got the phone from some rando, and got on her merry way when she realized John wasn’t calling back. It’s probably what he would’ve done.

Safe to say, Dean didn’t like their odds. Even less so when they entered the eerie quiet of the bar, and spotted a man lying unconscious, probably dead, on the pool table.

Dean felt his shoulders stiffen. He didn’t like this one bit, and every second he spent here made the alarm in his head shrill even louder than before.

Dean only just turned to take a closer look at one of the shelves, when he felt something hard dig into his lower back, and heard an all too familiar clicking sound.

Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me that is a gun.”

“No, I’m just very happy to see you,” came the fast answer from a very snarking - and female? - voice.

In one swift motion, Dean whirled around, grabbed the barrel, ripped it out of his attacker’s hand, and uncocked it. The bullet fell to the ground with an echoing clatter.

Dean almost smirked triumphantly at the blonde girl in front of him, when he felt a sudden, blinding pain in his face.

And if Dean had thought pulling up in a 30-year-old, barely functional van, of all things was humiliating, he didn’t calculate how it would feel to be absolutely sucker punched by a girl, not even as old as him.

Aside from the obvious nosebleed, his ego took a severe bruise.

“Sam! Little help here!” He called, hand still holding his hurting face.

The door swung open, and Sam walked out, hands raised to his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry Dean,” he said, “I’m a little tied up right now.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, as he watched another woman with dark brown hair follow his brother close behind, a revolver held to his head in fair warning.

He would be impressed, if his vision wasn’t swimming right now.

The older woman behind Sam furrowed her brows. “Wait, Sam? Dean?” She asked, exchanging looks with kick-ass Blondie in front of him. “Winchester?”

There was a beat, before the brothers pressed out a unison “Yeah?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these guys?” Dean’s head hurt with how much he was swinging it around to keep up.

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” And that made Dean perk up.

The woman let out a laugh as she lowered her weapon.

—

A few minutes later, Dean was served with an iced cloth for his nose, and he and Sam seated themselves on a few of the bystanding bar chairs.

The brunette woman, who had threatened Sam, turned out to be the mysterious Ellen, whose voicemail on their dad’s phone they followed here. Jo, her daughter, and also the kick-ass blonde that had held the rifle to Dean’s back, looked about as unknowing about the whole situation as the brothers did.

Turns out Ellen had contacted John about the demon he was hunting. Said she could help him with it. Why John had never mentioned her, or her daughter, she didn’t say. Told them to ask him themselves. Dean didn’t say anything to that.

“So why exactly do we need your help?”, Dean asked, repositioning the cloth on his face.

Ellen scoffed. “Hey, don’t do me any favors. If you don’t want my help, fine.” There was a snarking edge to her voice, and Dean started to realize why his father would associate with her.

“Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out,” she continued. “But John wouldn’t have sent you, if–“

There it was.

Ellen stood straighter. A haunted look crossed her eyes. “He didn’t send you.” It wasn’t a question.

Dean looked away.

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Dean hadn’t known Ellen Harvelle for very long, but even he could sense the way her voice wavered. And know that she was a smart enough woman to not truly believe what she was asking.

“No.” Sam cleared his throat, and the simple word echoed through the deafening silence. “No, he’s not. We think the demon did it. Got to him before he got to it.” The thankful feeling of not being the one to have to tell her what happened felt like a sin in Dean’s gut. Then again, what’s one more on his plate.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen said. It’s what everyone said.

“It’s alright. We’re good.”

Ellen didn’t believe him, he saw it in her eyes. But she didn’t bother him more about it, either.

“So, look, if you can help us,” Sam said, and Dean threw him a look that showed just how much he wanted to smack his little brother across the face, “we’d be real happy about all the help we can get.”

Ellen’s lips twisted. “We can’t help you.”

Is this lady for real-

“But he can.”

And then the dead man stood up from the pool table.

—

Ash was a tech freak, with a haircut like Billy Ray Cyrus and the mouth of a southern cowboy. Jo called him a genius. Dean didn’t know what to think of that.

Still, he had passed him their dad’s journal, told him to go nuts, and Ash had drooled over John Winchester’s handiwork like a child over a lollipop.

Ash had left with the journal and the promise of new information in the time of fifty-one hours.

Dean thought that was long enough time to take a drink.

Jo Harvelle was a pretty woman. When she wasn’t threatening him with a rifle or punching him in the face, that was. Her soft, blonde curls fell long over her shoulders, and those jeans did wonders to her curves.

Dean started conversing with her. While he had moved to one of the tables, Sam had stayed with Ellen at the bar. He found out that her father died, a long time ago. In the back of his mind, a mean voice cackled at the irony. He paid his sympathies.

Then, suddenly, one of the doors to the backrooms flew open, and a small whirlwind of colorful fabric and y/h/c hair came dashing into the room.

“Aunty Ellen, Aunty Ellen! Look what I made!”

Dean’s head whipped around at the sound of the high-pitched voice and he spotted a small girl, not older than five years probably, squeezing herself behind the bar table. When he noticed Ellen bowing her head, he figured that the little girl had probably reached her destined spot next to her.

Dean, though he would never admit it, was an easily curious person, so he followed Jo on her way to the bar and leaned slightly over the tablewood to catch a glimpse at the small intruder.

Little Lady was tugging at Ellen’s pantleg, and expectantly holding up a colored paper for her to look at.

“Look at what I drew, Auntie Ellen!” she repeated, in that same excited tone as before, when she had stormed into the room.

Dean watched as Ellen abandoned her washcloth somewhere behind her and crouched down to meet with the little girl eye-to-eye, as she inspected her drawing.

“That’s so amazing, baby, is that us?” The girl nodded, her pigtails wiggling up and down as she bopped her head enthusiastically.

“Yes, that is you, and that is Jo, and that is me. And look, I made my own fingerprint!” She dashed her finger into a spot on the paper, and then proudly held up the red-colored tip to shove it in Ellen’s face.

The woman had a wide, genuine smile on her face. “I can see that, baby, well done, it looks so nice!” She praised. “How about we hang it up there next to the menu?”

The girl nodded her head again, and let Ellen scoop her up gently. Only then, when Little Lady was at height with them, she seemed to notice the strangers standing in the room.

In the matter of a second, Dean saw her whole demeanor shift from bubbly and open, to a more closed off version, sinking further into Ellen’s embrace and clutching the fabrics of her shirt. Something about it made Dean’s heart sting.

“Auntie Ellen?” The girl tried to whisper, but Dean had learned soon that children were terrible whisperers, “Who is that?”

Ellen looked first to Sam, then Dean, and back at the little girl in her arms. “Those are friends of Jo and me, sweetheart. Their names are Sam-“ Dean’s little brother gave a wave and a smile when Ellen introduced him. “-and Dean.”

Dean grinned and carefully stretched his hand out. “Very nice to meet you, Little Lady. Who am I speaking to, may I ask?” He laid a formal accent on his voice, one that he knew had always made Sam laugh when he was a child. It was an olive branch, but something in him hoped she would grab it.

The small giggle that Little Lady let out made Dean’s heart bloom with a warmth he didn’t know he was able to feel.

“My name’s Y/N,” she said. With a pointed look at Dean’s still outstretched hand, Ellen murmured in her ear, “And what do we do when someone gives us their hand to shake?”

Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of Ellen’s neck, and Dean almost drew his hand back again, when a small warmth settled into his palm and closed around it.

He smiled at the girl and shook her hand. As they both pulled back, Dean twisted his hand around and huffed. “Ouff, someone has got a firm grip! Your Auntie Ellen teach you that?” Y/N grinned proudly at him and nodded her head. Then she held up her hand and showed him four fingers. “I’m already this old!”

Dean gasped. “Really? Well, that is a great age, no wonder you are so strong!”

Y/N was beaming now.

She didn’t hide in Ellen’s neck again.

“So, what about that picture now?” Ellen bounced the girl on her hip once, and it seemed like she was snapped out of a trance. Determinedly, she pointed at a space next to a hung-up blackboard. Dean figured Ellen usually wrote her daily specials on that.

The woman made a few steps over where Y/N had led her and gestured toward an already hung drawing of blue water and grey – fish? – above it, that was already taped to the wall.

“But we already put a picture there. We would have to remove that one if you want your new drawing to hang here.” The girl shrugged, and already reached for a roll of clean tape on the shelf.

“That’s okay, I don’t like dolphins all that much anymore anyway,” she explained nonchalantly. “I will just put it in my drawing box.”

Dean watched as Ellen carefully picked the old drawing from the wall to make space for the new one. He was so caught up in the scenery, he almost didn’t notice how Sam was scooting closer to him.

“You know who she is?” Sam asked. Dean turned his attention to his brother.

“Well, her name’s Y/N,” Dean answered simply. Sam didn’t roll his eyes at him, but it was a close call.

Dean just shrugged. “Guess she isn’t Ellen’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t call her Auntie.” He pitched the last word high, to mimic the child’s voice.

Sam furrowed his brows as they watched Ellen and the small girl.

“Makes you wonder,” he said, “What she’s doing here.”

Dean just hummed. He made brief eye contact with Y/N, as she stole a look in his direction, but she averted her eyes quickly, as if she had been caught.

Dean found himself slightly smiling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sam looking at him. His brother was grinning.

“You love that kid.” It was a statement.

Dean scoffed. “Oh, shut up, I don’t even know her. Also, I love kids, plural.” He added.

Sam nodded, that smile still on his lips. Dean ignored him.

“Come on, ask him. Don’t be shy.” Ellen and Y/N had finished putting up her drawing and were now standing closer to them again. Ellen was still carrying the girl on her hip and had bent down to whisper to her.

Y/N had buried her face in Ellen’s shirt again, clearly shy to say something.

“He ain’t gonna bite you,” Ellen said, nudging her. “Go on.”

Y/N lifted her head, and shyly looked at Dean. Her eyes were flickering all over him, but never exactly to his face.

“Doyouwantodrawwithme?” She spluttered. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t think he understood that. Try a bit slower. You can do this, come on,” Ellen encouraged her.

Y/N clutched her shirt.

“Do you want to draw with me?” She asked, head lowered and looking at her fingers. Her voice was quiet, but to Dean it felt as if she had shouted that sentence.

He felt warm inside. “Of course I want to.”

Y/N’s head shot up, and Dean Winchester had seen many beautiful things in his lifetime, but the gleaming eyes of that small child before him had to be at the top of the list. He never wanted to look at anything else.

Ellen set her down and pointed at a table in the corner of the room.

“Her colors and paper are already set up. Every day, before we officially open,” she explained with a look at Dean, and he nodded. While Sam got comfortable on one of the bar chairs, he made his way over to where Y/N had already set up her coloring tools and begun drawing on a piece of yellow paper.

Her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

“What are you drawing?” He asked, stretching his neck to take a closer look. Y/N leaned back and showed him her creation. Lines of red and yellow. Maybe a tomato? An apple? He turned his head. From that perspective maybe?

“It’s Lighting McQueen!” Y/N told him triumphantly. “I saw cars with Jo.”

Dean nodded. So no apple. He also wasn’t going to point out the girl’s grammar. She was only four after all. And who was he to talk.

“How did you get that?” Y/N suddenly asked, and pointed her small finger at Dean’s forehead, right where a big scar stretched over his skin, consequences of the fatal car accident.

Dean tried his best not to wince. He didn’t need to expose his lingering trauma to this pure soul.

“I was … in an accident,” he said instead. “But I’m okay and it’s almost healed now.”

The girl nodded. Dean was almost astounded at how easy it was with her.

“Whenever I hurt myself, my Auntie Ellen takes me to the Doctor. Or Jo. Or Ash.” Her face scrunches up as she thinks hard. Dean thinks it’s adorable. He finds himself smiling again.

“They always give me colorful plasters! I always get the dinos.” She leans in closer to him when she says the last bit, almost like it’s a secret she only wants him to hear. Dean’s heart warms at the thought, and he doesn’t even know why.

“Really? I’m jealous. I think dinosaurs are amazing.” He used the same hushed tone she had before. Y/N’s eyes widened. “You don’t get dino plasters?” She asked. If Dean hadn’t known better, he would’ve said she was outraged at his confession.

He shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “only boring beige ones.”

Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and her mouth fell open. Then, her lips curved into a beaming smile. “I can give you some of mine! Jo bought me so many the last time she went shopping!”

Before he could even give it a thought, Dean felt her small hand take his, and he was yanked from his seat. Geez, how did a four-year-old kid have so much strength?

His enthusiasm was short-lived, as Sam shouted from the other side of the room.

“Dean, Ellen got us a case!” His little brother was waving around a beige folder, a few newspaper pages hanging out at the sides.

He looked at his brother, then at the girl still clinging her small hand around his fingers.

“Does that mean you have to leave?” Dean’s heart clenched at the quiet, disappointed voice. He crouched down and looked Y/N in the eye.

“Yes,” he said, honestly. “ I have to go to work.”

She tilted her head. “To save people?” She asked. Dean nodded. He didn’t know how she knew, but maybe Ellen told her.

“Yes, exactly. But I will be back soon, and then you can show me your plasters, alright?”

Y/N seemed to think about it, and then nodded her head. Her pigtails were still wiggling up and down. “You promise?” She asked.

Dean nodded. “In fact,” he said, shifted his weight, and held out his pinky finger in front of her. “I pinky promise.”

Y/N grinned up at him. Dean grinned back. She linked her small finger with his.

“Can’t break a pinky promise,” Dean said as he stood up.

She shook her head violently. “Never!”

Dean laughed and waved her Goodbye.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sam as he passed him, and grabbed his jacket.

“Bye, Ellen, Jo.” Sam lowered his voice seriously. “Y/N.”

“Bye, Sam! Bye, Dean!” Y/N waved her hand after them.

“Good luck,” Ellen said. Then they closed the door behind them. The light of the sun was a heavy contrast to the dusky air inside the Roadhouse, and Dean’s eyes needed a while to adjust to the change.

He made his way over to the abomination car, Sam close next to him. His brother bumped his shoulder.

“Plural, huh?” Sam asked, smirking.

And if Dean sped the van up a bit faster, just to give his little brother a good scare now and then, well, that was between him and the Lord above.

[hush-writes-preg]

I watch the harbor every night from my bedroom window. A better partner would be familiar with the look of his boyfriend’s ship by now, but I’m more of a fucktoy than a partner. It’s no surprise that after years of playful sex- often over alcohol- my belly started to swell. The only problem is that my boyfriend is rarely around. His captain only brings the crew to my town once every couple months. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

I haven’t seen him since he knocked me up.

Maybe that’s intentional. Maybe he knew he slipped, and he chose not to come back, afraid of facing his perceived mistake. Perhaps he figured I wouldn’t find him if he did come back, since I can’t even recognize his ship.

Or maybe he hasn’t been able to come back. I worry endlessly that something happened to him, or to his captain, and he may never show up in town again. My hope is that he will.

But I don’t have time to wait around for him anymore. I don’t have time to stare at the harbor from a distant hill and wonder if any figure in the crowd is him. His baby is coming now.

Wordcount: 911

Themes: Birth, unassisted birth

You can see the lights from the town below as you watch the docks in vain. You hear the faint sounds of a bustling city at night and the wind whipping across the water to rattle the windows of your tiny apartment. The old tenement isn't much, but it is cheap, and at least your linens are clean. 

And nobody pays any mind to the young person with their illegitimate pregnancy here. 

Another cramp ripples through your belly, large, tight, and round beneath your tunic. You groan and clutch at the windowsill as you try to breathe through the pain. Your legs feel weak, and your water is dripping down the insides of your thighs, already bare since you had the forethought to lose your trousers early on.

"Gods," you sigh, and try to walk yourself to the bed.

Your contractions are getting closer together. They're stronger, too, and each one leaves you gasping for breath. It won't be long now.

You've almost reached the foot of your bed when another one hits. It's so sudden and so intense that your knees give out, sending you crumpling to the floor. You land on all fours, barely preventing your belly from being crushed under your weight.

Your head feels light. You pant heavily and try to focus on something other than the pain. You smell the salty breeze and hear the waves crashing in the distance. The floorboards beneath your knees are old and rough. Candlelight flickers wildly over the paneled walls, casting deep, dark shadows in the corners of the room.

When the next contraction comes, you cry out. You can't hold it back. You're too overwhelmed. It feels like your whole body is contracting, like there's an iron fist squeezing around your abdomen.

"Gods, gods," you chant, "please, please..."

You have no idea what you're asking for. You want to be strong enough to bear it, you suppose. You want your labor to end.

You can't get back up. All you can do is brace yourself against the bed and wait for the next contraction. You try to count the minutes between them, but your head is getting foggier and you're having trouble remembering the number you've counted up to.

The next wave is worse than the others. It rips a scream from you, and another gush of fluid spills from between your legs. It makes a puddle beneath you and runs down the backs of your legs.

"Oh," you groan, "oh hells..."

You can feel the baby now. You can feel it moving lower in your body, the pressure in your pelvis building.

"Gods," you whimper. You can't think. All you can do is feel the sensations of the baby making its way down, your body forcing it from the only home it's ever known since the night your lover planted it within you.

"It's coming," you whimper to the empty room, "it's coming now."

Where was your lover? Why did you have to endure this alone?

You reach between your legs and feel the opening where the head has begun to spread you open, stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. 

"Ow, ow, ow," you moan, "please...!"

You don't know who you're begging. The gods? Your lover? The baby? 

"Please," you beg, "please, let me have it..."

The head moves further down, aching and burning as your body strains to let it pass. It's almost too much to bear, but you keep breathing through it even after the contraction is over. 

Another gush of fluid runs down your legs. You reach behind you, between your thighs, and feel the baby's hair.

"It's coming," you sob, "it's coming, it's coming, oh, gods..."

You're shaking and sweating. Your belly trembles, still pressed against the floor.

"It's coming," you wail.

There's no way your neighbors don't hear you right now, but your labor isn't their concern. You're on your own.

The baby's head is crowning. The skin around your entrance pulls tight as the baby stretches you further, until you feel as though you're going to split in two. You push, and you can feel the head beginning to emerge.

You're almost there. It's stretching you so wide. You can't believe it's going to fit.

"Come on, come on, come on," you chant, like a desperate spell. It's got to keep going. It just has to. 

The baby's head slides free. It rests in the space between your legs, and the shoulders begin to follow.

"Almost there," you whimper, spreading your knees wider in an attempt to open your pelvis, "almost there..."

You grit your teeth and bear down as hard as you can.

The shoulders pop free. The rest of the baby slides out with a wet squelch, and you reach back just in time to catch it as it tumbles free of your body.

"Oh, gods," you breathe, tears welling in your eyes.

It's a boy. He's bloody and slimy, but he's alive, and he's crying. 

You did it.

"It's okay," you soothe him, "you're okay."

You hold him close, cradling him against your chest as you finally turn and slump against the floor. His heartbeat is fast and strong.

"It's okay," you promise him, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

The baby's cries subside. His tiny fingers curl into fists.

"You're perfect," you tell him, "you're so beautiful."

Your son.

Your little boy.

He looks just like his missing father, and you can't help but weep.

Tip Jar ✨ My Pregnancy Writing ✨ Commissions

[armoricaroyalty]

Freddy and Emily's engagement interview

212 comments

👼🏻 PrettyInPink: The very definition of poise and class! Emily is such a breath of fresh air. 👍 363 🪦 DressedInDark: parasites 👍 301 👑 Agnes Crumblebottom: May the Saints bless Her Majesty Queen Elise. Of the Armoricans and Her Royal Highness Crown Princess Rosalind. I pray every Day for our royal family! Amen! 👍 154 👼🏻 PrettyInPink: @ 🪦 DressedInDark Why are you watching videos about the royal family if you don't like them! 👍 267 🪦 DressedInDark: @ 👼🏻 PrettyInPink lmao can't handle criticism of your emotional support parasites 👍 103 👪 Mom of Three: I was always Team Freddy everyone else in my year was a Jacques girl 👍 78 👼🏻 PrettyInPink: @ 🪦 DressedInDark Parasites by definition harm their host, but the Armorican royal family contribute more annually to the economy than they receive each year from the Royal Grant. 👍 11 🪦 DressedInDark: parasite parasite parasite parasite 👍 7

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author's note: about six months ago, I solicited audience questions for their engagement interview and I am only just now using them RIP. The interview is below the cut xoxoxo

Q. The first question is for Prince Frederick, from @whitmoretroyals. How did you propose?

FREDERICK. I went into it without a plan, if you can believe that. [laughs] I had just spoken to my father, and I had the ring burning a hole in my pocket. Maybe I should have planned the whole thing out better, but I just found her and knelt down and…

EMILY. He came right out with it.

F. I did.

E. He did! He just said “I love you, I can’t live without you. Marry me?” No romantic speeches for me! [laughs] But that’s just not his style.

Q. How did you realize she was the one?

F. I don’t think there was a single moment. We were quite serious about one another from the beginning. Just from the very start, it was clear that this relationship was different—that she was different—from anything I’d ever experienced.

Q. Different how?

F. Different in every way! [ laughs ] More thoughtful, more sophisticated…most relationships I’ve had, it started out just fooling around, just having fun, and then months in, it was like, “who are we, what are we doing?” So right away, it was different with Emily because we both knew that we wanted something more than that.

E. We were quite committed from the outset. I think that frightened him a little. Early on, I remember him saying, “if this isn’t what you really want, you don’t have to go through with this,” and I was surprised like, “why wouldn’t I want this? I care about you.”

F. I was worried about the press. It can be a lot to handle, no offense.  [ laughs ] But she’s brilliant, an absolute natural. That’s really been the best part of all of this, seeing the whole world fall in love with her just like I did.

Q. Lady Emily, as you prepare to join the royal family, how do you envision using your position to make a positive impact or support causes close to your heart?

E. Being a member of the royal family is, of course, a tremendous responsibility. I think we’re all aware of how much work, how much real work, the royal family does for the people of Armorica. I’m very eager to join the family and to be part of all that, and to contribute in whatever small way I can.

F. She already does a lot, for the royal family and for me. She’s really supported my work with the arts. The work we did in Uspana, the museum exhibit, wouldn’t have been possible without her, for example. That’s why it felt like the right moment to announce our engagement and to celebrate it at the opening, because it had really become such a shared thing, such a reflection of who we are, as a couple.

Q. You’re quite fortunate to work so closely together, but of course, work isn’t everything. @crownsofesha asked, what you do together for fun?

F. Right now? We plan weddings. [ laughs ]

E. [ laughs ] It’s taking up a lot of our time, that’s for sure.

F. We’re both very excited for it, of course. We’re really looking forward to having everyone come together to celebrate with us, and we want to make sure that it’s something very special.

E. It’s important for both of us to incorporate a lot of our families’ traditions, but of course our families have very different traditions! And with it being a royal wedding, we have to make things very proper. So we’ve been working closely with Her Majesty and with my own parents to make sure that we have a chance to incorporate all of these different elements and little things that are so important to both of us and to our families.

F. It’s going to be really amazing. I can’t wait until September.

Q. Do you have any plans to start a family together? This one is from @thewoodslegacy

E. Well…

F. We’re still working on the wedding. [ laughs ] One thing at a time!

E. Of course we’d like to, someday.

F. Someday. Yeah. Obviously, we’d both like to be parents. And it’s kind of required, for a royal. [ laughs ] I know my parents are really eager for more grandchildren. [ to Emily ] What about it? Should we give Hugo a cousin?

E. Frederick!

F. She’s going to be an incredible mother, of course. She is incredible at everything she does.

E. [ softer ] Frederick...

Q. @rebouks asks: Where do you see yourselves in five years? Ten?

F. Well, I want to be a father. That’s been established. [ laughs ]

E. It’s a little hard to answer. My life is going to change so much that I think it's quite hard, in some ways, to think ahead. He's been amazing at getting me up to speed, and it's helpful to have a...

F. A shared background?

E. Right, we have sort of a...a shared pool of references. When you have a lot in common, that makes things easier. [ laughs ] But in five years, I want to be established and confident in my role, whatever that ends up being. [ softer ] I'd like to have a child.

F. I think for me, my goal is to just keep expanding the work we do. There are a lot of causes I’m passionate about, and I think that I can do a lot to kind of bring more attention to them. I want to raise awareness, and I want to do more in service to the Crown.

E. Of course. Like I said earlier, service is a big part of it for me, as well. [ pause ] I think we do that very well together.

F. We do. I guess that’s my real answer. In 10 years, I see myself with her.

[the0racl30fd3lphi]

More than friends, a little more than lovers x.t. (p.2)

a/n: all the love you've given the first one literally makes me want to cry. i've never felt as seen and appreciated as i have when in my writing, so i really appreciate you all. i thought it was gonna flop but i just wanted to put my work out there. so here's part 2 i guess 😭 i also only ever seem to write when i'm so tired my exhaustion is seeping out of my ass i love you all.

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: nevermore's favorite "tortured" couple has separated and the school walks around on glass waiting to see the outcome.

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda) light swearing? not much tho, suggestive themes

word count: 1,858

part 1 part 3

——————————————————————————

It'd been three weeks since you and Xavier fell out of contact, in a way. You stopped stopping by his dorm nightly, you packed a smaller lunch, you sat next to anyone else in the classes you shared. And that little box? Kept under your bed? No new additions, still a secret (bar Val) but a little more dusty.

Every few nights or so, Val would catch you turning to face it's direction. You'd twist you'd turn, you'd reach but it'd falter. Your arm falls back down and you'd turn around in the other direction. Soon you stopped taking care of yourself as well. Obviously while keeping up appearances so no one bothered you. Val noticed though. She always knew what was up with you before you knew.

On the other side of the spectrum Xavier wasn't doing so well himself. Almost every night he spent at Ajax's dorm, crashing on a chair so not to oppose his roommate, or at his art studio. Turns out deep in the woods with nothing else but his feelings and his art, really sparks the inspiration.

His inspiration was you. Ceiling, to wall, to floor it was you. Any part of you that he remembered was everywhere. Nothing to disgrace your dignity, of course. The only dignity getting ruined was his. If anyone saw any of his work recently they'd call it a stalker obsession with you. He hated himself for not noticing earlier. For losing you. Every night he remembers the week you pulled away. Then he remembers the months before that when he pushed you away.

——————————————————————————

"Hey, how were classes?" He ran up to you after catching a glimpse of you in the halls.

"Fine," You said so quietly he almost missed it.

"You okay?" The slight crinkle between his brows made your stomach turn in a good way and a bad one, you couldn't do it anymore.

"Great." With that you disappeared.

——————————————————————————

You opened the door to Botany class, the overbearing replacement for Ms. Thornhill welcomed you when you showed up right after class was supposed to start. Mumbling an apology, your eyes caught Xavier's and he nodded with his head for you to sit down.

Instead of taking your normal place by his side you sat down next to Yoko far away from him. You spent the whole class period ignoring his gazes and attempts to get your attention. You had sped so fast once the bell rang to leave a gust of wind passed by you.

Twisting and turning through the corridors to make it to your next class a gentle hand gripped around your elbow and pulled you into the empty classroom next to you.

"What's up with you?" Xavier closed the door behind him and moved to stand next to you.

"Nothing's up with me," you tried to turn and escape him but he blocked your path each time.

"Somethings up," he grabbed your arm to keep you in place. "First you don't show up last night and then you don't sit next to me in class? What's going on?" His head kept moving to try and place itself in your line of sight.

"If you don't know what it is by now, it's obviously nothing!" Trying to keep yourself calm you rip your arm out of his grasp and ran out the door. To keep yourself hidden, you used the late Principal Weems ability and shifted into a random student so he couldn't recognize you.

Xavier rushed out of the classroom and stood in the hallway, getting pushed and shoved students annoyed he was blocking the way. If you were even there, or turned back to see him, you would've noticed the way he searched for you. The way his head shook as he rubbed the back of his neck. The sound a nearby locker made after the front of his boot made connection with it. The groan that left his mouth as he rubbed the top of his shoe trying to bring circulation back in his toes.

——————————————————————————

"Hey Xavi! How you doin'?" you asked so positively, smiling widely and so radiantly. Looking back now, he wished he could have actually seen your face. Looking back now, he wished he actually looked at you. All he can remember was anything from his peripheral. Which is not a lot.

"I'm fine," he mumbled looking down at his phone, and then all around him. He was restless.

"Fine as in bad or fine as in good?" you tried to press. You shuffled and adjusted so now you were laying upside down next to him.

"Fine as in fine." He looked down to his phone once more, and the clock struck midnight. And just like Cinderella and her shitty little shoe, he ran to the window and opened just enough to hear...

Wednesday.

Wednesday on her dumb little cello.

It was unfair that she was so talented, so good at playing the music. Of course he adored her, who wouldn't?

"It's so... melodic," Xavier basically swooned out the window. Remember those cartoons, when the character smells a pie or something and floats around following the aroma? Welcome to the dumb stupid look on Xavier's face.

"She's playing the melody of... the Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 remixed with Lady Jane by The Rolling Stones that's why its melodic." You looked at him like he was genuinely and idiot. "It's written to sound like that."

He completely ignored you.

——————————————————————————

Classes were tense. It was even as if the teachers knew something was up, which they probably did. You couldn't tell if it was comforting or strange how the distance between you two effected the school. At least you knew you weren't crazy now, other people thought they had something too. You're not alone in your delusion, yippie.

It was night again, and you fell into the same delusional habit as you did every night. Yet this time Val said something.

"Doll, I adore you. You know this," She starts pulling you down onto her bed as you walked passed. "So all of this is out of love, get your shit together!" She smothered a pillow into your face and laid her whole body weight onto you.

"Which shit this time?" You rolled her off you and slapped her in the stomach.

"The Xavier one," she turned over to face you.

"Oh for the last time-" You started before it earned you a solid slap on the arm.

"Shut up you're literally living in a pipe dream, Xavier is everything to you just kiss and make up already! It's painful to watch you sulk like this," Val squeezed your cheeks together and slapped the side of your face.

Tapping right back into your favorite mimic powers, you quickly grew a two fangs and your eyes glowed red as you barred your teeth at her. She hated cringe acts that felt like they came right out of a CW show.

"Yes, please, bite me my mystical dark overlord!" She pretend purred at you and slapped your stomach once more real hard. Hard enough to make you groan and suck the fake fangs right back in. "I'm a vampire slut, you can not scare me with my own tactics."

That night, you turned on your side once more and thought, maybe it was a good idea to pursue. That night, when you considered floating that little box under your bed that felt so scary to think of, you did. And you traced the outlines of a photo you drew of him, watching it move and watching his smile grow as he turned to face the foreground.

——————————————————————————

Maybe it had been three days since you considered making up with Xavier. Maybe you still hadn't done anything about it but consider, that's regardless of the point now.

It had been however, three days since you unblocked him and stopped throwing away the letters and drawings he sent you begging to apologize.

You looked at him once. In class, across the room from him you felt his burning gaze fester on the side of your head. So you looked. And his eyes widened. And some color rose back in his face. And the corners of his lips twitched up. And his iris' got smaller as his pupils widened at the sight of you.

It felt like a dream, right out of a movie scene. Damn Mr. Winston and his last 30 minuets of free time in this dumb poetic writing class. He was young, he understood what it was like to be in high school so he was very laid back. Because of this your headphones were in, and your women-crush-Wednesday (no pun intended) Taylor Swift played in your head. Wonderland.

She really could write something for every situation you could find yourself in. Xavier and his student green eyes and that cheshire cat smile. Caught in this trance, staring in his eyes, you nodded. Quietly you mouthed, Okay.

The life that filled his whole body at your silent confirmation was enough to fill you with a sense of hope. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe the situation was much more different than you thought.

"tonight?" he texted you quickly. "9pm?"

"nightshade library." you sent back.

He looked back up at you and smiled lightly, sadly.

A new type of ecstasy filled your veins at the prospect of tonight. Things will change, you hoped. Things will change, you were sure of it.

——————————————————————————

"Okay, I'm going." You breathed out standing in front of the door. The handle felt menacingly cold when you reached for it.

"Wait, love wait!" Val stumbled out of bed and twisted you around to face her. Smoothing out your clothes and fluffing your hair, "I am so proud of you my girl. This is insanely brave of you, now go, go!" She kissed the top of your head and pushed you out the door.

"Fuck him senseless! Don't let that skinny white boy top you, you're better than that!" She called out after you before shutting the door. You could hear her cackle from down the hall and you yourself laughed. Headphones were your saving grace at this point, calming the inner monologue.

The walk felt eternally long and frighteningly short. Way too soon you were at the statue, snapping twice, and walking down the stairs. He was already there. Xavier was pacing around in a line playing with all the rings on his fingers. Fidgeting was what he did when he was nervous.

The last click of your boots on the tile floor grabbed his attention. Maybe it was the lighting, but the second he turned around he looked worse for wear. You hadn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since he left for the summer last year, knowing he'd be stuck at home with his family, and away from you. Granted only until you two snuck away from your psychotic families, and ran away for the rest of the summer using your mimic ability to the fullest.

"Hi." You whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it. So familiar he prayed he'd never have to hear it again.

"Hey."

——————————————————————————

tried to get this part 2 out as fast for y'all as i could! so if you like it enough, a part 3 will follow with the ending i have not planned out yet. if you don't, the ending is left up to interpretation. did they make up? did they make out? did they fall further apart? who knows! ( i don't yet we'll see)

——————————————————————————

@animesimp3456 @iovaki @navs-bhat @hellllloooosstuff @555stargirl555 @quinn165 @raeboo @heehooyeslol @leyseyb

[13as07]

Hanahaki Disease

(Shino Aburame)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to imoimo00000]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 3,878

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

“Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.”

Mentions of Mental Illness (Depression, Anxiety and Bipolar Disorders)

———————————————————————

     My eyes trail after Shino who's slipping out the door. Today is another day of him leaving without giving me my goodbye kiss. Not that anyone is counting, because I'm not counting. Who cares if Shino has forgotten to kiss me goodbye every day this month? Who cares if he's started month two of the forgotten kiss? Not me.

He's a very busy man. He's one of the teachers at the Academy, he has a lot of clan matters to attend to, not to mention he's started his training to take over as chief for his dad. So who cares if he doesn't remember to kiss me, even if it's only five seconds of his day?

It would be selfish of me if I threw a hissy fit over something so small. Shino is mentoring the next generation of Shinobis. Shino is taking care of his people and their needs. Shino is starting his path to take over the clan. His father is almost sixty, eventually, he's going to want to retire. It would be self-centered of me to start a fight because Shino is too busy taking care of the community.

     Besides, when Shino has free time he'll spend it with me. Who cares if it's been weeks since we've been on a date? Who cares if it's been a couple of months since we've been physically? Who cares that the only time I see him anymore is five minutes in the morning and the occasional nights that he wakes me up sneaking into bed? Not me, that's who.

     I knew what I was signing up for. He lives a busy life and so do I. That's the life of a Shinobi, I shouldn't be surprised we don't have a lot of time together. Shino is a pillar of our community. I know that.

But it only takes five seconds. A peck and then he can leave. Not to mention he's done it for years. Why isn't he doing it anymore? Has he forgotten? Or has he been choosing not to kiss me? There's no way Shino has forgotten, he never forgets anything, so it has to be a willing choice right? Why doesn't he want to kiss me anymore? Have we lost our spark? Is Shino over our relationship? Does he see me as another task instead of his partner? Is that why he isn't kissing me? Or maybe he just doesn't -

The thought gets cut off by a pain in my chest. My hand shoots up, rubbing my chest to try and work out the pain. Instead of working out the nest of aches, my rubbing brews a cough.

The sound of my lungs trying to loosen the pain ripples through my rib cage, making the empty apartment echo with the sound. The more I cough the more pain flutters through my chest.

My eyes snap closed as another string of coughs rips from my chest. Tears prickle my eyes as my lungs pound against my ribs.

As the third round of coughing starts, something in my chest shifts. As I cough, the loosening feelings continue, something smooth shooting out every time another wheeze is forced from my lungs. It hurts every time a chunk of whatever flies out, leaving behind a burning feeling in my lungs. Like a new scab wound is being ripped into my airway.

By the time I'm done coughing, my throat feels raw and my chest feels like it's on fire. I tip my head backward, resting it on the chair I've been sitting on. My breath is shaky and uneven as I try to catch it, the oxygen rolling over the imaginary wounds as I suck it in. It feels like licks of fire running down my throat.

After a few deep breaths, the pain has subsided and my breathing is back in check. Maybe I'm getting sick. I should ask Shino about it, he's a medicine expert courtesy of his clan.

A threat of another cough fit bubbles in my chest, making me clear my throat in hopes of forcing it down.

When I successfully manage to avoid another round of wheezing, I lift my head back up, snapping my eyes open so I can start my day. As my eyes open, I'm met with a small pile of petals littered across the kitchen table and the floor underneath it.

     The petals are wide and curved at the end. The soft yellow of them is dotted with speckles of blood, making my nerves tingle. Those weren't there before I coughed but there's no way... I did not cough up flower petals. That's impossible... It's not... It's not the Hanahaki Disease.

     Shino loves me, I know he loves me. Right? So what if he's been a little busy? So what if we haven't had much time together recently... any time together recently? He's just a little busy. I know Shino loves me, he loves me... Right?

                      ———————————

     I can feel another petal trying to wheeze its way out as I walk up the stairs back home. Sakura's words roll around my head as I climb the steps to my front door.

     "It's a mental state of mind in a physical form. The personification of your thoughts. Go home and stop stressing about Shino so much and it should fix itself."

     Sakura's words were meant in good light but at the moment it doesn't seem like that, or feel like that since I'm winded from climbing a flight of stairs. Another round of coughing is threatened in my lungs, the feeling of the ignored cough slamming against my rib cage as I refuse to give in.

     My hand shakes as I dig my keys out of my pocket and struggle to get the door unlocked and opened. When I finally do manage to get the door open, I leave it swung wide and dash towards the trash. My head hangs in it, hands on my knees as I cough into the can.

     The growing familiarity of petals being ripped from my lungs fills my chest, the yellow lilies coated in my blood spilling into the trash as I cough them up.

     By the time a flower or two is released, the fluttering of my lungs settles, leaving me to catch my breath again. My eyes scan the trash, the tears now coating my sights making it a little difficult to make out the proof of my disease.

     Shino loves me. He loves me. I know he loves me... or do I? If I knew he loved me I wouldn't be in this situation.

     "Stop stressing about Shino so much."

     Sakura's voice rings in my head again, helping me calm my breathing down.  My eyes scan over the petals once more before I climb to my feet. I'll take a nap, that should help. No coughing, no Shino, no worrying about his love for me or lack thereof recently. It's just a bump in the road, just my anxiety getting the better of me. I'll beat this disease in no time because Shino loves me... unless he doesn't...

                       ———————————

     Panic is not real, it is an imaginary emotion, and it's nothing more than an adrenaline rush. My shallow breath is nothing but adrenaline. The ringing in my ears is adrenaline. It's not even adrenaline, it is the sound of my blood moving quicker because my breaths are moving quicker because my adrenaline has been heightened by Sakura.

By Sakura who stopped by the school on her lunch break. Who 'accidentally' left my Bumble Bee's papers from her visit to the hospital today. Who doesn't understand the meaning of Doctor-Patient Confidentiality. Who took the risk of getting fired to tell me I've been neglecting my Bumble Bee so much that flowers are growing in her lungs because I am lacking as a romantic partner.

I'm well versed in the knowledge of the Hanahaki Disease. After all, one in five people will experience it during their lifetime. The chances of someone I know having the disease or getting it is quite high.

Not to mention being from a medical clan means I should be well versed in top diseases and disorders. I know the symptoms, I know the signs. I would have seen them. I would have noticed.

I pay very close attention to my Bumble Bee's health, especially when it comes to the Hanahaki disease. People suffering from depression, anxiety, bipolar disorders, or a mix of them are more likely to get it, and my Bumble Bee falls into that category. I would have noticed.

I know I've been busy but I still see her for... for a few minutes every morning and... and when I get home before midnight... which happens... once a week if I'm lucky...

My heart rate increases at the thought. Maybe I wouldn't have noticed. No, no I would have. I... I would have.

Panic - no, panic isn't real. It's just unchecked adrenaline. My adrenaline is in check, I am in control of it. But the front door being wide open with Bumble Bee's keys still hanging in the lock makes it very difficult to keep my adrenaline in check. The trash bag full of lily petals and her blood doesn't either.

"Bumble Bee?" I call, scanning for any signs that something happened. I can never be too sure that it's not a trap. "Bumble?" I call again, making slow steps toward our open bedroom door.

My adrenaline drops at the sight of her in bed. She looks pink, probably a fever forming from her body trying to respond to the flowers blooming in her chest. Her breaths are raspy, oxygen struggling to fill her lungs because of the lilies. More petals float around the room, littering our bedding and the carpet.

It would have been a pretty sight if it wasn't for the blood droplets decorating the yellow flowers. It's fitting, the yellowing of the petals. It's almost a bumblebee yellow. Bumblebee yellow for my Bumble Bee.

                         ———————————

     The feeling of arms wrapping around me stirs my sleep, panic quickly taking over me. "Calm down, Bumble Bee," Shino's smooth voice fills my ears, easing the fear that was growing. "It's just me."

     I'm calm for a second or two before a cough brews in my chest, threatening to give way to my developing illness.

     I snap my eyes open, quickly scanning for any petals that might have slipped out as I slept. None fall into view, chilling my nerves again. The last thing Shino needs is to be stressing and worrying about me. Besides, Sakura said it should fix itself if I stop worrying. It's all mental.

     My eyes flicker to the clock, four eleven. "You're home early," I mumble, trying to stay still in Shino's hold. Maybe he forgot about his after-work plans, though I'm not complaining. I'll take any extra time I can get, even if it's only long enough for his forgetfulness to clear up.

     "I know," he answers, crawling into bed. Shino shifts around moving me across the bed as he settles next to me. "I don't feel the best. I am going to take a nap," he mutters, arms tucked around me again to further crush me into his chest.

     Shino's fingertips ghost over my back, crawling across my shirt in different patterns. Soon his head dips down, nose shifting my hair out of the way. The material of his sunglasses rubs against my throat as he buries his head into my neck. He must feel really sick if he didn't take the time to change out of his day clothes before crawling into bed.

     "Do you want me to make you some soup? It'll help you feel better," I ask, going to sit up to climb out of bed. Shino doesn't have time to be sick.

     "No," He answers shortly, tightening his hold on me to pull me back down on the bed before I have the chance to get up. "It's nothing more than a fever. It'll go away after some rest. Rest with me, Bumble Bee."

"Alright," I mumble, curling back up on the mattress. I cuddle against him again, resting my head on his chest as his arms tie themselves around me.

                         ———————————

I can feel the cough brewing in my chest as my eyes flutter open. It's difficult trying to fight the cough down. If I was sure Shino wasn’t still home I’d let it out.

     My chest aches as I roll out of bed, my worries about Shino being sick and not loving me taking its toll on my body. As if my thoughts could talk, the bedroom door creaks open said bug boy poking his head into the room. "Good morning, Bumble Bee."

     "Good morning," I call back, attempting to clear my throat to further push down the cough fit threatening to happen. "You're not even dressed," I point out, eyes jumping from the clock to Shino who's still in his bedclothes. "You're going to be late."

     "One of my coworkers is covering the first hour of my day."

     "Why?" I ask, ducking into the bathroom as the need to cough continues to grow.

     "I did not set my alarm so I woke up late. When I called to let them know they said to take as much time as I need," Shino answers, his voice muffled by the doors and space between us.

     "Well I'm sorry your morning started rough," I call back, raising my voice to make sure he can hear me. The louder volume forces a round of coughs out of me, pain ripping through me as petals flutter out.

     A second, third, and fourth coughing fits fill the bathroom before Shino knocks on the door. "Are you alright, Bumble?"

     I grip the sink, resting my weight against it as I try to catch my breath. "Ya... I'm... I'm alright, Shino," I answer, watery eyes scanning the small room. Three dozen or so petals litter the tiled floor, the before dots of blood now small pools coating the colorfulness.

     "Well alright. Are you ready for breakfast?" He asks, softly knocking on the door.

     "Yes, I'll be out in a second," I tell him, bending down and starting to collect the lilies. My lungs scream in pain as air filters through them, being hunched over to clean up my mess not helping.

Once the mess is cleaned up, petals thrown out and my blood splatters wiped up, I make my way out to the kitchen. The soft sizzling of the stove fills the space, the smell of bacon fighting for space as well. "Shino?"

"Bumble Bee?" He calls back, turning towards me. I swear some of the pain in my chest melts away when he looks at me, eyes uncovered and almost shiny as he takes me in. "I'm making you bacon and eggs. I hope that's alright."

"That's more than alright," I say, sliding over to stand next to him. "But you don't have to. I know you have a busy day, I can finish making myself breakfast."

"I'll finish making your breakfast," Shino mumbles, shifting away so I can't take the spatula from him. "Go sit down."

Reluctantly, I do as I'm told, sliding into a chair at the table. I settle my arms on the table, resting my head on them as I watch Shino cook. The worry of making his day worse swirls around my head, though it melts away when he turns towards me, a soft smile crawling on his face when his eyes meet mine.

It only takes a few more minutes for Shino to finish my breakfast. My plate is set on the table, the man leaning over me to set it down. "Your breakfast, Bumble," he mutters, hands resting on my shoulders as a kiss is pressed into my cheek. "I am going to get dressed, enjoy your food," he adds, kissing my other cheek before he leaves me in the kitchen.

     My eyes flutter over my plate, scanning over the food that has waves of heat rolling off of them. I feel a bit guilty about my disease. How could I believe Shino doesn't love me when he does things like this for me?

     Because this is the first time in almost two months he's paid any attention to me. Because yesterday was the first time in too long that he's been home right after work. Because now that he's feeling better I won't see much of him let alone have any of his attention.

     Another coughing fit rams against my lungs, threatening to spill out as I pick up my fork. I need to keep my thoughts in check, they're only making my illness worse.

     "Stop stressing about Shino so much."

     Sakura's voice rings in my head as a cough wheezes out. My eyes trail after the yellow petal that spills free, watching it slowly float down to the table, settling next to the plate of food Shino made for me. Of course Shino loves me. He just has a lot of things on his plate right now. He loves me... I think.

                         ———————————

My breathing sounds more like hissing as I lean against the Academy wall. Another three dozen or so petals are tangled at my feet, staining the road in the small pools of my blood.

Sakura gave me a doctor’s note to turn in so I could have some time off. A Shinobi that’s coughing up flowers and blood isn’t exactly useful. Hence, me being at the Academy.

I take a couple more swallow breaths, trying not to tempt another coughing attack to form. Once my breathing is settled for the hundredth time today, I push myself off the wall and head inside.

It’s a quick walk to the mission center, but it’s still a peaceful one. The sound of children, teachers, and classrooms buzzing filling the space there. At least until a door slams open.

A blonde boy with bright blue eyes stares at me. Whiskers are stamped into his face as well. Naruto couldn’t deny the kid as his if he tried. “Hello, Lady. Sensei wants you.”

“What?” I ask, taking a peak into the classroom. Shino is standing in front of the desk, glancing at the two of us now and again as he rambles on with his lesson.

“My Sensei wants you. Shino-Sensei. That guy,” the boy says, repeatedly pointing at Shino. “Aren’t you his girlfriend or whatever? You should know who he is. Unless it’s not true. Sensei?!” The boy leaves the door wide open, storming back in as he confronts his teacher about ‘lying’ to him about our relationship.

I slide into the room after the boy, a smile crawling on my face as I watch Shino defend himself in the verbal warfare Naruto’s son is throwing at him. Chocho - the chief’s granddaughter - is waving her hand like crazy at me, trying to catch my attention.

I wave back at her, getting a head tilt towards her teacher and childish kissy faces shot my way. My smile grows as I shift my shoulders up, playing into the clan’s princess’s game. Her nose scrunches up as she pretends to get sick, making me giggle silently. The quiet giggles make my lungs ache, a coughing fit trying to shove its way out of my mouth.

“Please go sit back down Boruto,” Shino grumbles, ducking behind his desk.

“But Sensei! You said anyone that spotted your girlfriend could get a piece of candy!” Naruto’s son - who he totally in character named after himself - whines, staying put in front of Shino’s desk.

Shino sighs, a piece of candy being tossed to the Hokage’s son before his head pops back over his desk. “So you have your kids playing look out today?” I tease, for once pain not bubbling in my chest. It makes me giddy knowing he talks about me to his students.

More giddiness only grows as Shino climbs back to his feet, a vase full of orchids in tow along with a sleek black box. “You didn’t take any missions yesterday so I assumed you would be around today,” he mumbles, walking towards me before leaning the flowers out towards me. “When you stopped in today I wanted to make sure I saw you. I don’t want the children ruining your flowers before I get home.”

His words come out monotone as ever but still manage to make my breathing seem easier. “Thanks, Shino, I appreciate the gestures,” I answer, taking the cooled vase from him. “I’ll let you get back to class. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“You’ll see me tonight.”

“But you told your dad - ”

“I will see you tonight,” Shino cuts me off, handing me the box before softly patting my head. His glasses settle their focus on my face, the dark lens making it impossible to figure out the exact spot they’re focused on. “My father can wait. I want to be with you tonight.” His fingers coast through my hair before a soft pat is placed against my cheek. A soft smile is sent my way before he turns on his heels, Sensei Shino back in control.

I blink a few times, my sights on the purple flowers poking out of the white vase. When my senses filter back in, I wave a quick goodbye to Chocho before leaving the room.

My walk is slower this time, making sure not to spill any water onto the mystery box as I head towards the mission center again.

                         ———————————

My eyes fall down the mirror again, taking in the sundress I’ve put on. The flowy material is what Shino put into the mystery box. The dress is yellow, not my favorite but it fits with the nickname he has given me through our years together.

I figured with the fancy dress and the free time I have, I should try to look nice when he gets home, hence the done hair and light makeup.

“You are perfect,” Shino’s voice fills the room, startling me at the suddenness.

“Thank you.”

“You are beautiful,” he continues, his frame falling into view in the mirror. Shino’s glasses rest on top of his head, giving me the sight of his eyes that are jumping around my body. “We should go to dinner.”

“We should?”

Shino hums a yes, arms settling on my hips and tugging me backward so I’m pressed against him. “You look gorgeous. My partner is gorgeous. It would be a waste not enjoying your beauty,” he mutters, brushing kisses across my neck as his eyes continue to jump over the view of me in the mirror.

“You look lovely. You are exquisite. You are my everything,” Shino continues to drown me in whispered compliments, lips brushing across my jaw now. His hands rub soft circles against my stomach, his fingers nimble as they crawl across my dress. “My everything,” he repeats, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

I let myself relax against him, soaking in Shino’s undivided attention. As he toys with the hem of my dress, a thought filters into my head. I haven’t coughed up any petals since I visited the academy.

[csny]

not to be messy but how do you feel about people stealing other peoples viral posts on tumblr and reposting it on twitter like it’s theirs. (she’s on here by guttergirl-444) & she has stolen many more lol

at first glance it’s like shock and amazement more than anything because i never thought this would happen to me, but when i actually stop to think about it, it actually is very frustrating and invasive. i know it happens all the time and i can’t really stop it, plus my posts have no copyright or anything but it is true, when i make posts that aren’t haha funny laugh a lot play a lot, they kind of are little extensions of my artwork. like drafts and ideas that often get elaborated on if they seem to connect with people.

i don’t really want to dunk on other artists because it feels mean spirited, but i just want to point out this one instance that shows how writing anything on tumblr is “just a tumblr post” and people often don’t consider that there’s a person behind it. it’s almost like a popular tumblr post becomes fair use. This artist here took my words directly from my post (and even used the same iconography of a beach??) and when you click on the link in the description, it takes you to their instagram account with 142k followers. not even a single nod to me, who wrote the actual words. as an extra little punch, they call themself a poet in their bio.

sure my post was a bottom text top text “meme image” but there was a lot behind it—in both thought and time. the exact same ideas and photos made their way into a book i made just a couple months later. i think i sold umm one copy?

all in all, im not complaining about lacking “popularity” because that’s utterly stupid. but there’s something moderately soul-crushing about making a tumblr post and having it ripped to shreds by all walks of life online. It literally feels like i’ve placed something beautiful in the world out of my own kindness, then walked away, and when i come back everyone has defaced and damaged and killed it. it’s kind of invasive but I know it’s the way things go.

i love the anonymity of tumblr but sometimes I wish it we were all a little more open. Maybe people could remember that behind every blog is another person with ideas, cares, opinions, annoyances, and loves. I’m sure this one twitter account isn’t really doing much damage—honestly I haven’t even gone to look at it to see how people are replying—but it’s rough out there on this beautiful social media we call tumblrposts.

[crazychaoticizzy]

TRACK ONE: Pilot/Heart Attack

Heart Attack: the greatest rock band in history. Decades after the nasty breakup that followed their final performance in Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, the six band members finally agree to separate interviews that reveal how they came together and their rise to fame.

And what led to their sudden downfall.

EREN X READER X JEAN

CONTENT: multipart fic, rock band au, love triangle, slow burn, angst

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

Series Masterlist

AOT Masterlist

DODGER STADIUM, LOS ANGELES After their highly anticipated performance at Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, Jean Kirschtein tore off the neck of his bass on stage and ripped a hole in the drums. After announcing his resignation from the famous band, Heart Attack, Eren Jäger punched him.

Following Jean Kirschtein's resignation, Heart Attack fell apart. The performance in Dodger Stadium was their last, and the six band members have not been seen together since.

This biography is made up of a series of interviews compiled over the years by Olivia Russo. This is the first time the band and others involved have spoken on their scandals since they broke up.

JEAN KIRSTEIN, bassist for Heart Attack: Just sit here?  Alright. Yeah, of course. Sure you don’t want anything to drink? Okay. [smiling] Hi.

EREN JÄGER, main male vocalist for Heart Attack: We’re gonna make this quick, ‘kay? I don’t wanna talk about this shit. Ask your questions, get a snack or something, and leave.

ARMIN ARLERT, guitarist for Heart Attack: Do I look okay? I dunno, I just feel nervous, I guess. I haven’t really talked about this in years, especially on camera.

SASHA BRAUS, keyboardist for Heart Attack: Oh, I’m so excited for this. Did my hair curl weird? No? Okay. What do you want me to do? Introduce myself? I don’t know, everything’s changed so much since the last time I did a one on one interview like this. Hi, my name is Sasha Braus. I was the former keyboardist and supporting female vocalist for Heart Attack.

CONNIE SPRINGER, drummer for Heart Attack: Ready, kid? You’re in for a ride. I hope you brought snack or something to hold you by, this is a long story.

MIKASA ACKERMAN, photographer and costume designer for Heart Attack: This is for a documentary, right? Or a novel? Oh, okay. Either way, I’ll try to remember everything as best I can.

Y/N L/N, main female vocalist for Heart Attack: Hey. Yeah, of course. Mess with whatever. Maybe you can hide the circles under my eyes. [laughs]

What did you think of Heart Attack?

MIKASA: Well, it was Eren’s dream, so I just kind of went with it. It was fun, though. I really liked everyone we worked with. Most of them were really nice.

EREN: We were on top of the fucking world. The biggest band of the century. Everyone knew our name and we were making millions. I don’t know why Jean wanted to throw that shit away.

JEAN: You want honesty? I fucking hated it. Every single second.

CONNIE: Ooo, getting into the deep shit already? Well, I personally thought it was so fun. More so after we got famous, but it was great even back when we were just teenagers in Mrs. Yeager’s basement.

ARMIN: I kind of felt… indifferent? I mean, yeah I liked it. I was spending time with my best friends. But I would have preferred something quieter, maybe? Something that didn’t have us at each other’s throats all the time, at least.

SASHA: Well, it was definitely stressful. God, especially when I was pregnant. I was so worried about what we were going to do then. I mean, I couldn’t be up on stage at almost nine months. Are you crazy? But then for half of our songs the keyboard is a really big part so it’s not like I just couldn’t be there.

Y/N: I really enjoyed it. Yeah, there were a couple times I maybe wanted to kill someone, but it was fun. Lifelong friends, some of them. All of them, actually, but . . .

SASHA: Oh, well. We figured it out in the end. [smiles]

Y/N: It didn’t end well, as I’m sure you know.

JEAN: What were we? A rock band, according to Google, but what we were doing wasn’t rock.

CONNIE: It’s kind of funny, actually. Before Sasha we were all so uncreative and couldn’t come up with song titles. With good reason, too, that shit is hard. Trying to sum up your song in a couple words? Pfft. We were all useless, especially Eren.

ARMIN: Only the super old fans know this, but our very first song ever, track one on our debut album, was originally called “Pilot.”

EREN: Yes, like the fucking first episode of a show that doesn’t know if it’s gonna do well or some shit. It was not my idea.

JEAN: It was Eren’s idea.

MIKASA: I tried convincing them to name it something else, but they wouldn’t budge. I suggested just their band name and they said, “No, that’s too basic. We need something unique.” They didn’t change it until Scout Records told them to. And guess what they changed it to.

CONNIE: We changed the first song to “Heart Attack” in… let’s see, 2018 or somewhere close to that. 2019, maybe?

JEAN: Naming our first album “Debut” was Eren’s dumb ass idea, too. Uncreative prick.

EREN: No one else had any better ideas, so we just went with what I said by default. It’s not like anyone cared, anyway.

What can you tell me about Marco Bodt?

SASHA: Sorry, darling. I don’t know much about him other than he was the band’s first keyboardist.

Y/N: Just what Annie and everyone else told me way back when. I don't remember much.

MIKASA: Oh, I wasn’t around them enough at the beginning to know him. That was around the same time my mom had started getting me ready to take over the store, so I spent almost all of my free time with her.

ARMIN: I don’t really remember him. I had him in my Chemistry class before I dropped out. He was my table partner, I think. He was nice, though. We tutored each other sometimes. And, of course, he was over at Eren’s with us a lot.

CONNIE: I loved Marco, man. If you met him, you knew you had just met the sun. He always had such a bright outlook on everything. He was like Switzerland when we started arguing. And he always came up with the best compromises.

EREN: Marco was amazing. I felt bad all the time because he was always breaking up arguments. I have no clue why he was friends with us.

ARMIN: We were definitely annoying. It took a special kind of patience to deal with us, especially at that age. Marco always handled it so well, though. I think he and I would’ve ended up being much better friends if we were given the chance.

JEAN: Someone did their homework. You know about Marco? Course you do, you’re fucking [incoherent]. Uhm, Marco… God, I haven’t talked about him since he died. I don’t even think the really old fans know about him, to be honest. Well, Marco was . . . I think he was the first boy I ever loved.

i'm so excited for this series you guys don't even know. i have so much planned and i hope you guys have as much fun reading it as i had writing it

TAGLIST: @arlerts-angel if you'd like to join the taglist please comment to let me know!

next part >>

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

My reactions to episode 5 of season 2 of Criminal Minds Evolution

Didn't do one last week bc i didn't have time, plus it was just a weird episode. but people have told me they're excited for me to watch this one, so let's go!

i think this is penelope and voit's first time seeing each other face to face???

Voit's little nursery rhyme taunt i am CRYING laughing

Voit taunting the SHIT out of Rossi

"Somewhere in Iowa" has me rolling

Ooh so this is the beginning of the conspiracy theory. The FBI "assassinating" people

Side note: do they never change their badge pictures?? rossi's hair still has color in his

"Get out" Rossi????

Voit sitting at Reid's desk is funny bc Zach Gilford auditioned for Reid way back when

GARVEZ STANDING BESIDE EACH OTHERRRRRR. love collecting Garvez CRUMBSSSS

Luke she is standing slightly in front of you. you are not staring at her side you're staring at her ass. I see you.

"You can't bluff for a minute? You've been bluffing you're not Sicarius for a month" Tara i LOVE you

Someone: *mentions computer stuff* Luke: *looks at Penelope* Me: yeahhhh he knows his gf can do anything

"I'll come with just to make sure you [elias] behave" Luke i am sure that is the ONLY reason

"an online bulletin board where people post their not-so-secretly racist opinions?" Luke i love you

Voit: *touches Pen's things* Luke: Hands off, asshole YES MAN PROTECT YOUR GIRLLLLL

"What's up with you two? Because there's a vibe." AH HA HA HA HA!! I saw a mini spoiler that Voit picked up on them but I imagined he would be calling Luke out on it privately to taunt him I DIDN'T THINK HE'S ASK THEM BOTH TO THEIR FACE WHAT ALL THAT TENSION WAS

this is no longer garvez crumbs this is garvez ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Penelope why don't you have an answer? Why don't you have an answer, Penelope?

Couples who insult an inmates smell together stay together 🥰

"subtitle to Mary Shelley's frankenstein" the secret agenda to CME: make Luke super knowledgeable about classic literature. my "luke was an english major" headcanon is just proved more and more right

"Dr. Lews" look at least he's respectful of her title. i feel like ppl forget she's a doctor

Penelope holding up a handkerchief to her nose 😂

"Neglected to ask me that" luke was right, everyone IS a comedian

"You son of a bitch" I love how they are just having Luke call him every name in the book

Luke recognizing morse code like the little army boy he is 🥰

"what the fuck is north star?" that's an episode name, isn't it? does anyone remember what episode it is going to be?

Emily and Rossi plotting to let Voit try to escape so they can shoot him. Okay????

oooh that sounded SO scripted and forced and awkward 😭

"can you do that without fingerprints?" EMILY WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST ASK TYLER???

"Same deductive work as the BAU just... faster" 😂😂😂

"Wheels up" i was GAGGED when i saw that in the preview

Tyler found brian!!

Voit just taunting them all like a child has me cackling

Omg he knows about Greencia. If he tries to use it to blackmail them/her Luke is going to rip his head off

"Maybe not that crazy" AKA he noticed Garvez so he's not surprised she'd be messing around with ppl involved in her work

"That's enough" Luke is like "A. don't talk about her that way. B. i don't want to hear about this."

"Why is that enough, Luke?" STOP IT RIGHT NOW I'M CACKLING

"Do us all a favor and shut the fuck up" YESSSSSS JJ

"Tynelope is a thing and that drives Luke crazy." oh my GOD. there is so much here. Ig i can't say Greencia anymore it's Tynelope? and also Voit calling Luke out for being jealous in front of everyone????

Luke looking away from Penelope. BUT PENELOPE LOOKING OVER AT LUKE.

"I haven't thought about you at all" I mean i know it's a lie but it's funny

"Useful idiot" emily i love you

okay why tf is brian suddenly pretending not to know what Gold Star is

Luke back to his undercover rootsssss

ohhhhh this is gonna be the bomb we saw in the trailer isn't it (if it is then i am gonna get SO MANY DAMN FIC IDEAS from this ep)

yepppppp bomb!!

Forget Garvez, clearly the real ship this show is pushing is Luke x Bomb

Every time Penelope says "Luke" I get giddy

Penelope (slighly panicky) walking her bf through the bomb situation so he doesn't die

Penelope calling him "Luke" but Luke calling her "Garcia" is SO personal to me

Penelope that is a VERY happy smile (just tell that man you love him)

@lklvz you get gratuitous Luke saying "fuck" content and i hope it makes you smile

HAHA DAVE PUNCHING VOIT IN THE FACE

oh damn it all to hell, damien

"Teresa is in trouble" the FUCK?

tyler knows teresa??? or Penelope is teresa?

Luke following Penelope haha that's not a surprise

"I don't want to be alone tonight" FUCK YOU, REBECCA

NOOOOO TARA NOOOOO DON'T GO BACK TO HER

More emily smoking!!

EMILY CRYING AND ROSSI HOLDING HER 😭😭

guys that was SO GOOD

one of the best eps so far

[elliereject]

stupid bitch .1

* you and ellie have been friends for years but you only recently discovered that the way you liked her was more than just friendly. unfortunately, she’s already in a relationship with a toxic girl who (surprise!) does not like you. as their relationship starts to sour, you’re the one ellie always goes to for comfort and you oblige until you can no longer take the heartache and pain you’re feeling which causes you to finally confess…blurring the already thin line between yours and ellie’s ‘friendship’.

* infidelity, oblivious!ellie, meanish!ellie, pining, anxious thoughts

* first fic, based on girl in reds Stupid Bitch bc wow does that song make me scream. if this gets any traction at all ill post pt 2 and a couple others I have in the works :) feedback is appreciated, pls enjoy and interact!!

*mdni

*wc - 4k

part .2 here

You had a love hate relationship with Ellie.

Well, it was mostly love…who were you kidding, it was all love.

She’s been your best friend for years and you were so fucking glad she was apart of your life. She’d been there for you during the worst parts like when your parents didn’t speak to you for a month after you came out and the best parts like when you got accepted into your dream school.

Every great memory in your life, Ellie was there. She was someone you could rely on and who you knew would stick by you even when she saw the worst parts of you and you hoped she knew you would do the same for her. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Of course, it wasn’t until she started dating her that you realized your true feelings.

“I’m telling you! She’s just—she’s perfect!” Ellie gushed, your stuffed animal being squeezed to death between her lean arms.

You forced a smile onto your face, a sour feeling thrashed in your gut. “I’m happy for you, glad you guys are hitting it off.”

“We’re more than hitting it off, we’re like, on the exact same wavelength..did you know she does her own tattoos? How fucking cool is that?”

You turned back around in the chair at your desk, trying to busy yourself with the schoolwork you were supposed to be doing and rolling your eyes at her rambling. The two had been seeing eachother for the last month and she did nothing but talk about her.

“Yeah I did know because you’ve told me a thousand fucking times..” You mumbled.

“Hm?” She asked, “Sorry, Cat just sent me the funniest meme.”

She spun your chair back around to show you the meme on a cracked screen and when you saw it you wanted to take her phone and toss it out the window.

“I sent you that like 4 weeks ago.” You laughed dryly.

“Oh, for real?” She mumbled, already pulling her phone back to continue texting Cat.

You rolled your eyes again, huffing when you picked up your phone to text Jesse. He was the only one who knew about your newly discovered crush on Ellie, other than her, you considered him your closest friend and he had comforted you when you came to his dorm, eyes filled with tears and guilt after you told him that you were in fact in love with your best friend.

im going to go fucking insane.

oh brother, what did she do this time?

she won’t stop fucking talking about her ☹️ she litrly just showed me a meme cat sent her that i SENT HER WEEKS AGO and she didn’t even remember

you know ellie tho she prob just forgor fr

jesse i Litrly cant do this anymore. I’m going to rip out my air and throw my laptop at the wall.

Rip out your air? How would that work, like a breathing machine??

Die

💪💗 sorry y/n im sure it’ll get better

😐 when?

…

Before you could see his response you dropped your phone in your lap when you felt Ellie tap your shoulder, “What?”

“Said I’m gonna go piss.”

“Oh, okay.”

She got up from your bed and when she left, her phone was still there.

You shouldn’t. It’s a complete and utter violation of her privacy. If she caught you, she’d probably never talk to you again…

But you knew her password, and it was right there and you were so damn curious.

Your hands moved before you could rethink and suddenly her phone was in your hand and your eyes were skimming over her messages.

You clicked on the thread with Cat and felt your heart seize when you read what she was saved as: my girl ♥️

Despite the searing pain you felt pang through you like a hot knife, you read on.

i can’t wait to cu tonight ;))

same, u can finally get started on my tattoo!

mhm 😇 can’t you come over a little esrlier? im so bored T_T

cant :( yk im hanging out with ★ rn

yeahhhh but she’d understand you’d wanna hangout w ur gf right?? she said she was happy we started dating so she can’t get upset

what the fuck?

yeah ig but irs been a while since I last saw her

plssss els :(( just wanna hold u rn

There was a little space between this message and the next, you figured it been when you and Ellie got caught up in a conversation about your mutual hate for one of your profs.

if u rlly don’t wanna see me jus say that.

yk that’s not true id love to see u rn

then COME, if she gets upset that’s not ur problem..she has to understand you can’t spend all your time with her

What the fuck was this bitch even talking about? She was the one trying to lock Ellie up. You were about to scroll down to see what Ellie had said but you heard footsteps and threw her phone back on your bed before pretending to be stuck on a practice question.

Ellie picked up her phone and you were so scared she’d notice you were on it you thought your heart was going to pop out of your chest and fall onto your desk.

“Hey..”

Dread filtered through your body. She knows, she knows and she’s going to confront you and she’s going to storm out and you’re going to lose your best friend and—

“I think I’m gonna head out, seems like you got a lot of work to do.”

You dropped your pencil and turned to look up at her, “Are you sure? I mean we could go somewhere if you want.” You didn’t want her to leave, you wanted her to stay in your dorm with you forever.

“No.” She said quickly, backing up “It’s fine, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay I’ll see you—“

She walked out your door, letting it close.

“Later.”

—★

It was a freezing December night the first time Ellie came to you, eyes ridden with tears over a fight with Cat.

Usually, it was her calling you up to have you come over and comfort her because Cat was ‘acting weird’ and ‘being mean’. But something serious must have happened for her to be here.

A few weeks had passed since that enlightening time at your dorm where she had practically flown out of your room to go see Cat. During the following weeks, the two of you had barely talked let alone seen eachother and when you did it was almost always about Cat. You understood that you were both busy with school and she was busy with her girlfriend and you didn’t know whether it was Cat or Ellie that had forced the two of you’s separation or if it was your own subconscious mind trying to protect you from getting hurt. Either way, you missed her dearly.

She was pounding hard on your door, and when you opened it she immediately rubbed her red rimmed eyes. She lived in the other dorm building and judging from her appearance you imagined she ran here as quick as she could; Snowflakes adorned her hair and eyelashes and her nose was red from the cold, she had an old green hoodie on and plaid pyjama pants. Even on the verge of tears she was still so unbelievably gorgeous.

“Ellie, it’s like 3AM..” You said groggily, you knew she had trouble sleeping but she usually texted you if she needed a distraction.

“I know just, please I need to talk to someone. And Dina’s with Jesse and Cat fucking—” She paused, sniffling.

You sighed, stepping to the side so she could come in and you could close the door that was currently blowing in cold air from the freezing hallway.

“What happened?”

“It’s Cat.”

Of fucking course. Fury engulfed you, Ellie wasn’t one to cry often or even come close to it so Cat must’ve done something pretty fucked up.

“She was being so distant and I don’t even fucking know what I did and then some fucker I don’t even know just sent me this,”

She shoved her phone in your face and the image made even more anger surge throughout you. It was blurry but you could still make out two figures, one with short black hair—Cat, and another unrecognizable. Cat had her arms locked around the mysterious girls neck and the two were not just kissing but full on frenching. You wanted to throw insults so bad but Ellie was upset and that was more important than dissing her girlfriend.

“Oh Ellie, I’m so sorry.” you said softly, pulling her in for a hug.

She sniffled and wiped her nose, “Yeah, thanks.”

“So, are you two..” you trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know, maybe. I sent her a text about the picture and told her to call me but she hasn’t answered.” Ellie said, pulling away.

“Ellie are you serious?” You questioned, looking into her green eyes. “She fucking cheated.”

Ellie looked to the side, avoiding your scrutinizing gaze.

“There could be more to the story.”

You scoffed, “Looks pretty straightforward to me, she went to party, made out with another girl and is completely ignoring you.”

Her jade eyes scanned your face before she shook her head, “You don’t like her.”

No shit you don’t like her.

“That’s not true.” You lied.

“Yes it fucking is! at first I thought I was overthinking it but whenever I bring her up you get this…this look on your face.” She accused.

“What look? This i—“

“That look!” She cut you off, pointing a long finger in your face. “Like..like you’re about cry or blow up or something.”

“I—“ Before you could defend yourself Ellie’s phone rang, the two of immediately knowing who it was. Ellie cleared her throat and answered before the second ring even started.

“Babe?” She croaked out and you winced, both at the nickname and the pain in her voice. You couldn’t listen to this.

“I think..you should go.” You said quietly, walking toward your door to open it for her.

Her eyes flashed to your face before she nodded and walked out, phone still close to her ear.

That night as you crawled back into your bed and warm tears hit your pillow you never wanted to rip out your heart more because the love you had for her was still there, never wavering and consuming you entirely even though you knew it would never be requited.

— ★

It’d been weeks since that night and since you’d talked to Ellie. You didn’t mean for the gap to stretch this long, you decided to give her some space after your…argument? And then you had finals, and then winter break where you went back home to visit old friends and reluctantly, your parents.

You came back two days before classes started up again so you could ease back into your routine. In the last few weeks you tried your hardest to push thoughts of Ellie out of your mind but you cared for her too much to completely disregard her and bits and pieces slipped through the guards you had put up.

You layed on your dorm bed, sighing as you stared at Ellie’s Instagram.

Back together, you thought.

Over the course of Cat and Ellie’s relationship, you’d learned how to tell when they were ‘on a break’ and when they were together just from her Instagram.

When they were together, her profile picture was the two of them, Cat pressing her lips against Ellie’s cheek and Ellie with her eyes scrunched closed, a joyful look on her face. Ellie also had a highlight labled with nothing but a cat emoji as well as a few random posts of them doing more random shit.

When they were ‘on a break’; Ellie’s profile picture was the default one and she had no highlights, and a singular picture posted; her and Joel after her highschool graduation. After Ellie saw the picture of Cat at that party it’d been like that for two and a half weeks and you silently hoped it’d stay that way forever.

Now, her profile picture was the two of them looking happier than ever and you couldn’t help but feel mocked while you moped miserably in your cold dorm alone, your only comfort being the stuffed animal that you held close to your chest.

You missed her, desperately.

You couldn’t do this anymore, you had to have her in your life even if it wasn’t the way you wanted. You sat up, brushing the stray tears from your face you didn’t know had fallen. Determination coursed through you, you were going to break the silence first.

Ellie was getting back tomorrow so you arranged a plan, you’d pick up a pepperoni pizza from her favourite diner—pizza was her favourite food and you’d called her basic when she first told you, which she replied “Anybody who says they don’t like pizza or pizza is basic are trying too hard to be different, pizza is the only perfect thing in the world.” and you shoved her arm playfully telling her to just eat the freaking pizza— the memory made your heart hurt but you swallowed the feeling.

Then, you’d pick up both yours and her favourite snacks from the 7/11 near your campus along with a few sodas.

And finally, the main item of your grand scheme, stopping by the blu-ray store to pick up the first Jurassic Park, the two of you could always watch it on Netflix but she preferred having the physical thing, stating it felt more ‘authentic.’

It was going to be the perfect night, and by the end of it, it would be like the entire last month and couple weeks never happened. The two of you would be back to normal.

— ★

You’d spent the entire next day anxious about seeing Ellie again. You’d woken up early on accident and had to find things around your dorm and campus to busy yourself until it was time to get ready and grab all the items on your list.

And now here you were at— you checked your phone, 6:43 PM— pyjama clad and balancing a pizza box and your phone in one hand and two bag fulls of snacks and Jurassic Park in the other.

You placed one bag down to knock on the door and you heard shuffling before it swung open. To your distaste, the person who opened the door was not your best friend/crush/reason for breathing, but instead her girlfriend who you knew didn’t like you. Could you blame her though? You were in love with her girlfriend. Although she didn’t know that, at least…you don’t think she did.

You can’t believe you hadn’t thought about what you’d do if she was here, the pair seemed to always always always be together when they weren’t ‘on a break.’ Your eyes trailed down her form, she had on tiny plaid pyjama shorts and a thick green hood on that you recognized as Ellie’s. Jealousy plunged through you like boiling, corroding acid.

“Babe, who is it?” You heard Ellie call down from somewhere in the dorm and your stomach flipped, it’d been so long since you’ve heard her voice.

“Your friend.” She deadpanned.

“Who?” Ellie questioned, walking into view of the door frame. Her short auburn hair was out of it’s usual style and laid damp against her neck along with a towel, she was wearing thick navy sweatpants and a thin white tank top. Your eyes immediately landed on the black ink that trailed across her right forearm. She looked fucking amazing.

“★?” Her jade eyes widened, “What are you doing here?”

You held up the pizza box and movie half heartedly, “Surprise?”

She smiled and you swear to fucking god you almost dropped everything you were holding to whip out your phone and snap a picture. You’d missed her smile so much and seeing it online just wasn’t enough.

“Come in, you and Cat can catch up while I finish drying off.”

You looked at Cat, honestly forgetting she was there. Her dark eyes bored into you and you couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was with her short black hair and milky skin. Why were the pretty ones always fucking crazy?

She stepped to the side so you could walk in and put everything down on the old coffee table.

Awkward silence enveloped the space between you two before you cleared your throat, she was Ellie’s girlfriend whether you liked it or not which meant you’d being seeing a lot more of her so you had to atleast be civil.

“I like your hoodie.” You tried, giving her a weak smile.

“Thanks. It’s Ellie’s.” Maybe you imagined it, but you swore you heard a bit of a mocking emphasis on Ellie.

You sighed, taking a seat on the worn green sofa Ellie had found on Facebook market place for what she thought was ‘the deal of the century.’

“Hope you like pepperoni pizza.” You tried again.

“I’m vegetarian.”

Of course she was.

“Oh..you could pick them off?”

She scoffed, trudging off in the direction of Ellie, leaving you to sit alone. This was not going as planned, you’d wanted to spend one on one time with Ellie and discuss what the fuck had happened in the last month but it’d just be awkward when the elephant was literally in the room.

The two returned, Ellie’s hair dryer now and towel discarded. Ellie plopped down beside you and you didn’t miss the way Cat’s eye twitched.

Ellie’s eyes landed on the box of pizza, her face lighting up. “No way, I thought they were closed during the holiday’s.”

You smiled, “Guess I was lucky.”

She smiled back and your gaze met hers, your heart picked up in speed when you saw something in her warm jade eyes…something soft and—

Before you could inspect it further Cat slid past your legs to sit on the left of Ellie, separating the two of you again and almost pushing you off the couch.

Cat leaned into Ellie and you thought you saw her stiffen in the corner of your eye but when you turned to look at her she was back to normal, maybe you imagined it.

“You brought a movie?” Ellie asked, eyeing the small black rectangle on the table.

“Oh, yeah! Jurassic Park.” You leaned forward, picking it up.

“On blu-ray?” Cat snarked, “Isn’t that a little outdated.”

You looked at Ellie but she was focused on the the pizza, already downing a slice and a half.

“I think it’s fun, feels more..authentic.” You replied, noticing the small smirk that crept on to Ellie’s face.

You got up, fiddling with the small TV and DVD player like you did many times before when you and Ellie had a movie night. Finally, the movie started playing and you grabbed a bag of snacks as you eased into the beanbag instead of sitting back down on the couch.

Guess yours and Ellie’s talk could wait.

The movie droned on and Cat inevitability fell asleep on Ellie, you pulled out your phone as the scene where Donald Genarro gets eaten by a T-Rex while on the toilet started up.

You were answering snaps, liquorice hanging from your mouth when you got a text from Ellie, you looked up and saw her staring at you.

Bored?

You smiled,

We’ve seen this movie like a million times. I’m tired of watching an attorney get chomped up on the toilet. 😔

she stifled a laugh,

are u serious? 😫 that’s like the best scene.

personally, I like the end where they make it off the island.

Ofc u do 😒 always a sucker for happy endings.

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully.

Hey can I ask u smth

ofc what’s up?

whyd you come here tonight? don’t get me wrong I’m glad u did its just. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from u and then u just like shoe up lol

shoe up? 🤨🤨

She frowned jokingly.

I’m srs.

Your fingers hovered over the letters as you thought of how to answer, you couldn’t just tell her that you’d been thinking of her aimlessly in the last month and you’d decided to push away the immense romantic feelings you had in order to at least stay friends with her now could you?

i just missed you and I thought like, why did we even stop talking in the first place, yk?

As you typed the next message you felt heat creep up your neck and your heart pick up just a tad. It wasn’t risky per say..just a little intimate.

tbh, ive been missing you the entire past couple weeks. like so fucking much 🫥

You added the emoji to soften the blow, make it seem less like you were in love with her and her absence caused a gaping hole in your life.

tbh, me too. im sorry abt that night btw. i was angry and felt betrayed and I lashed out on u even tho u were just looking out for me, and im sorry for not reaching out.

I understand and I’m sorry too. for yelling and not reaching out sooner 💗😞

I don’t forgive you.

Panic flooded your brain, was she still upset? Did she not want to be friends with you anymore? Did you wait too long to reach out? Ellie looked at your frightened face and tapped quickly, reassuring you.

Joking joking! I was gonna say i might if u come over like this more often but.. yeah 🥸

You sighed, relief washed over your body and you giggled.

u always have the worst timing.

You glanced up at her expecting to see a smile but your heart tugged at her expression, she looked..sad. The usual gleam in her jade eyes was gone and her soft lips were pulled into a solemn frown.

i know

Before you could pick apart the message a shiver jolted through your spine and goosebumps covered your neck and arms. When did it get so cold?

hey is ir kind of cold in here?

yeah the heaters busted. turns on and off 😒 i asked matinance to come take a look but yk how those mfs are.

damn..r ur blankets still in the same place?

nah i moved them a while ago they’re by the actually lemme just show u

Ellie peeled Cat off her shoulder carefully as to not wake her up and motioned for you to follow her. You got up from your seat on the beanbag and treaded quietly behind her.

She led you into her room and as she dug in the back of her closet you took in the space. It’d been too long since you’ve last been in there, you breathed in the familiar earthy-pine scent that was so inadvertently Ellie and eyed the bed you and her have had countless conversations on. Your eyes travelled to the guitar that stood against her bed frame, the wood worn from years of both her and Joel playing, she’d only played for you a couple of times and even then it was little snippets as she felt too embarrassed to play you a full song.

“Here.” Your eyes snapped back to her and the plush green blanket she held out. You were confused for a second but then you’d remembered why you came in here in the first place.

“Oh right, thanks.” You reached for the blanket but you must’ve anticipated for it to be lighter because it fell from your hand and landed with a soft thump on the floor.

She sighed playfully, reaching down to grab it, “Always a klutz, huh, bug?”

Your breath hitched at the nickname. She’d started calling you her lovebug back in elementary school to tease you since you always demanded she leave bugs and other insects alone and always opted for the piece of paper and cup method to set them free instead of her brutal method of stomp until they’re dead. The only insects she really liked were fireflies, she didn’t really have a reason..she just did.

However, she stopped calling you it when she had started dating Cat and resorted back to her regular “dude” “bro” and “man”. You forced your heart not to read too much in to her use of it, it probably just slipped out, nothing more nothing less.

She picked up the blanket and put it in your hands, placing one on top of yours to make sure you were holding it properly. And that would’ve been fine and dandy if she let go and you would’ve shuffled back to your seat on the beanbag and it would’ve been normal, and it would’ve been okay.

Only, she didn’t move her hand. She let it rest in top of yours, the heat from her body travelling to yours, igniting you in a way you don’t think was possible. You looked up to meet those familiar pools of jade, finding the same look you had seen when the two of you were on the couch; soft and wanting.

It’s funny really, you had shown up here with so much ready to say and now look at you. Completely silent, terrified that if you even breathed too loud it would shatter whatever blissful moment was going on.

But your heart battered against your chest, screaming and thrashing at you.

it’s NOW or NEVER. SAY IT, SAY IT, SAY IT!

“I like you.”

Silence. There was no echo in the room but you swore your words bounced around the walls and hung in the air.

“What?” She breathed, taking a step back.

This was wrong, you knew it was. Her girlfriend was literally less than 10 feet away and the two of you had just started talking again, but you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to tell her, if there was even a sliver of a chance she felt the same way you were going to take it.

“I like you— more than a best friend like, and I have for a while. And I know you’re dating Cat and I get that you like her, I really do. But I can’t do this anymore, Ellie. I can’t sit and pretend I’m happy for you because I’m fucking not. Whenever I see you two together, kissing and hugging I wish it was me—fuck I wish it was me.”

“Bug,” She paused, closing her eyes briefly, “ ★..I’m dating Cat.”

“You think I don’t!—“ You paused, urging yourself to breathe and counting to ten slowly.

nine..ten.

“You think I don’t know that?” You repeated, calmer.

“★..” Ellie began but you pushed on.

“Ellie can’t you see how..how bad she is for you?”

“What?” She asked, anger lacing her voice.

“She’s hurt you time and time again, and I’m always the one who has to comfort you just for you to go back to her after a few sweet words…she doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’re not apart of my relationship you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” She spat.

You huffed, blowing out air as you tried to breathe again.

eight..nine..

“Just because you’re fucking in love with me doesn’t mean you get to come in here and act like you know a single fucking thing because you don’t.”

Fuck breathing, fuck ten.

“You stupid bitch! She doesn’t fucking care about you. Why can’t you see the one for you is me.” You yelled, then gasped at your outburst. It had taken both of you by surprise, even when you and Ellie got into the nastiest of arguments you never yelled at eachother—minus that one night a month ago. It felt good, letting out all the emotion you had harboured for so, so long.

The two of you were centimetres away, having inched closer to yell in eachothers faces but now it was quiet, except for the laboured breathing that expelled from both of you, fanning over eachothers lips.

Icy jade met the fire burning behind your eyes, the juxtaposition was so intense you thought if your heart beat any faster you’d go into cardiac arrest.

“..You’re the one for me..?” She said, a ghost of a whisper.

And It was quick, so quick you almost didn’t catch it but you did. Her eyes flitted a fraction of an inch down to your lips and fuck, it was over for both of you.

Your lips crashed into hers, her large hands found promise at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer as she slotted her mouth against yours. The blanket in your hands long forgotten as it fell back to the floor. It was heated, hungry, passionate, and desperate. Months of hate, love, frustration, and separation rolled into one long awaited meaningful kiss.

It was when her hand trailed down to your hip, pulling you flush against her body and snaking under your top to brush over your skin that ellicited a sweet noise from you and her tongue sliding across yours, that she finally pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck.” She breathed, her voice raspy and you bit your lip when you felt your clit pulse.

“I need to—“

“I think you—“ the two of you spoke at the same time making both of you pause.

“I need to go.” You whispered, so quiet she almost didn’t hear you.

She nodded and watched as you turned around and walked out of her room, she stayed like that, standing and barely breathing until she heard the familiar noise of her dorm door closing before she allowed herself to crumble to the floor and hang her head in her hands.

“Els?” Her head shot up, thinking you had returned but she felt guilt flood her body when her face fell in disspointment at the sight of her groggy girlfriend.

“Hey..we need to talk.” She sighed.

She really did have the worst timing.

[corriganatheart]

Deepest Secret 🔞 Final / Jude Bellingham x reader x Trent Alexander Arnold

Synopsis: As your secret relationship with Jude grows, your feelings are brought into the mix, and you realize that Jude might have other motives than just being your deepest secret.

Pairings: Jude Bellingham x reader x Trent A. Arnold

Genre: Enemies to lover, and Forbidden romance

Warnings ⚠️: Cursing, Mention of sexual contents

“Your kidding, right?” You asked while staring at your boyfriend’s definition of breakfast. Trent grins and cuts the piece of the strawberry pancake before shoving it into your mouth. “It’s a Friday. I wanted to make something delicious for my baby,” he shrugs and returns to frying the bacon. You playfully roll your eyes and sit on the stool. Quickly glancing at Trent’s back, you swipe to your messages to see Jude has already sent you several text.

J: Good morning beautiful 😘 hope to see u tonight?😜

J: my day is done by 8 pm. Movies at my place?

J: heard Trent’s traveling soon. Wanna stay during that time?

J: I miss you🥲

You think of what to say as the smell of delicious bacon hits your nose, and the sound of Trent whistling in the background distracts you. You and Jude had met up a couple of times after returning from Bora Bora. And every time you went over to his place, you thought of ways to break things off, but Jude was too persuasive and too touchy even to let you finish your explanation. He has mentioned several times that he was ok with being a secret and that he’ll continue to be one as long as you stay by his side. It was an awful situation, and you do feel bad because Trent was in the dark, and when he finds out, it’ll shatter him. “You’re awfully quiet,” the sound of Trent’s voice caught you off guard. You shut your phone and smile at your boyfriend. He was in nothing but pajamas pant and looked hot as fuck while making breakfast. Guilt starts to fill you up again while staring at his cheerful face. This was the man you fell in love with two years ago, and you just let it go for a guy that has been treating you like shit. Gosh, you were such an awful person.

“Do you want to come with me, baby?” He asked as he watched you eat his food. You shrugged, “work.” Trent’s smile slowly fades away and it has come to you that, you guys haven't had a decent time together since vacation. You were always out, or he was always busy with work. You don't even remember the last time the two of you has gotten intimate. Everyone around you thinks you two will be pregnant any time soon, but ever since you started hooking up with Jude, you've ignored Trent's initiative and him. "You know I would if I can," you lied and placed your hand on his for confirmation. Trent softly smiles, looks down at your hand, and then rubs the finger where future promises are made. "When the season is over, I want us to take a vacation. Just you and me," he says and kisses the finger. Anyone who isn't blind can clearly see that he is giving hints, and although it would've made you happy months ago, right now you were stunned. Trent is slowly planning his future with you while you are secretly ruining it. Not looking into his eyes, you guiltily said, "That would be a perfect babe."

Jude plays with the lighter in his hand as he stares up at the ceiling. He had just returned from a photo shoot and was wearing a black tux, the tie lying loosely around his neck. You had told him that you were coming over tonight, and he was excited until he saw a paparazzi photo of you dropping Trent off at the airport and you were kissing, the both of you looked incredible in love. What a shame that it was his best friend that you were making out with because if it was anyone else, he would've made sure his mouth was ripped off of his face.

Jude was very persistent in keeping you by his side, even if it meant lying to his long-time friend. Sometimes he becomes selfish and has foolish thoughts like exposing your secret just so everyone can turn their back on you, and you would have to seek shelter in him. But that was an irrational thought because his future would also be a blur, and the whole team would hate him. To everyone, you were the perfect innocent girlfriend of Trent Alexander Arnold, but only Jude knew who you really were, he always knew. It was exciting to make everyone believe that you two hated one another but really you were into each other. It's a fun game until Jude realizes that you weren't entirely his and that the most you ever see of him is a fuck buddy and nothing else. Clenching his fist at the thought of that, Jude pulls up his phone and makes a call.

It was already 10:00 A.M when you received a text from Lucia, an article attached to her message filled with disgusted face emojis. You pulled up the article and to your surprise, it was a photo of Jude out at the club last night with the same model he took to Bora Bora. She was wearing a skin-tight dress that you wore on the beach, the night you hooked up with Jude, even her hair was styled the same way. You clench your phone when you see the way Jude looks at her in the photo, filled with lust and excitement. You knew what he was doing, he was upset that you didn't go to his place last night after your passionate kiss with Trent, and was trying to remind you that he could get any girl. It was toxic, a total red flag, but you were beyond upset and want nothing more than to piss him off. He knew how you felt about that girl, and still, he decided to throw your insecurities right at you. Not wanting to show Jude your weakness, you decided tonight would be a perfect girl's night.

"Ugh I swear, I need like fifty shots," Lucia says as soon as you guys step into the club. You grin and lead her and the other girls to the bar. Immediately a couple of the guys notice your group and were already trying to get your attention. "How are you ladies doing tonight?" a cute guy with a Spanish accent asked. Lucia and you both backed away and let the single ladies handle him. "So why did we have to come to this club?" Lucia asked in disgust, knowing that it is the same club Jude flaunted that girl. "Because you said you wanted to piss that girl off," you shrugged. Lucia gives you a glare, knowing damn well that wasn't the reason. You chuckle and start ordering drinks for everyone. "How's Trent doing? You guys loving the married life?" She sarcastically asked. You rolled your eyes, and just smile. "He's actually husband material." Lucia nods in agreement because she has been around you and Trent long enough to know that the two of you were perfect for one another and that Trent loves you so much. Feeling yourself getting sad at that thought, you ask the bartender to hurry up so you can drown your thoughts. "If he was to ask you to marry him would you say yes?" You stare at Lucia as she waits for your response. She raises an eyebrow, expecting you to respond immediately with no hesitation. "Is everything ok?" she asked, becoming suspicious of you. Just when you were about to let her know that you have doubts, the bartender slides your drinks in place. "Have fun ladies," he winks causing Lucia to laugh. You sigh in relief and pulled all your friends to the dance floor.

"OMG!" Lucia shouted, causing you to turn to where she was pointing. Walking through the door were Marcus Rashford, Jude Bellingham, Bukayo Saka, and a couple of their friends. Everyone in the club looked star-struck as they stared and cheered at the sight. Many girls were already running up to them, whereas your group was frightened and trying to sneak your way out of sight. The guys that had joined your group were also star-struck and talking about wanting to get photos. You awkwardly dragged Lucia along with you as the other girls also tried to sneak away. But before you guys could leave through the other door, Marcus and the boys surrounded you and glared at you. Lucia sloppily waved at her fiance, and he pulled her by his side, whereas Saka tried to help the other girls that were super drunk. Jude stares down at you with his arms crossed, looking bored and annoyed simultaneously. "When you guys said girls' night, I didn't expect to be surrounded by drunk horny men!" Marcus shouted through the music. You rolled your eyes at him, and security approached you guys because the crowd was getting rowdy. "Oh, come on, you know this is what boy's night looks like too." Marcus glares at you and motions for Jude to hold on to you because you are getting a little tipsy too. You cross your arms before Jude can touch you, and he grins down at you as you give him a dirty look. “I don’t need your help,” you said. Marcus looks between the two of you and shakes his head. “You have no choice; Saka and the others are driving your friends home.” You turn to your friends, who are all about to pass out, and then you turn to Lucia, who is now lying on Marcus's shoulder, nearly sleeping. Frowning, you nod for Jude to lead the way, and all of you start walking out as cameras flashes everywhere.

Trent calls you a few minutes later after you guys squeeze out of the club's parking lot. "Yeah, the paparazzi were everywhere after the boys decided to come," you said bitterly. Jude glances at you and smirks. Rolling your eyes, you go back to paying attention to your boyfriend. "Yeah, Jude is taking me home right now," you said, although you know the street that he just turned was the opposite of where you live. Trent then continues to talk about his trip, and you continue to look ahead, thinking of the awkward situation. As you listen to your boyfriend talk, you feel a warm hand linger on your thighs. You glare at Jude, only to see him smirk as he continues to trail up your dress while looking ahead. “I missed you, baby,” Trent says with a frustrated sigh like he was stressed from work. “Me too,” you breathed out. You tried to move Jude’s hand out of the way, but he was way too quick and pulled your panty aside and immediately spread your center with his fingers. “Just a couple more days,” Trent says as he continues to talk about his plans for the two of you after he gets back into town. You breathe heavily and hums a couple of time to remind Trent that you’re still on the line. Jude smirks as he inserts his middle finger into you, causing you to lift your hips a little. Your breathing increased as Jude continued to mess with you, and the sound of wetness was pretty intense, but you muted your phone, only unmuting it to respond. Jude wasn’t the slightest phased by the way his finger worked you.

When he felt you getting tight, he would pause, and you couldn’t do anything because you also had to focus on Trent. It was like he was trying to prove a point, trying to remind you how good he could give it to you. Jude glances at your frustrated form as you try to roll your hips on his finger; he wasn’t moving his fingers because he knew you were close, and he wanted you to beg for it. “Baby, are you still there?” Trent asked, and you quickly unmuted the phone. “Yes, babe, I’m listening.” You hear Trent chuckle as he continues to speak. Jude smirks and quickly starts fingering you, and you have to cover your mouth from moaning. You glance over at him, and he looks ahead, his other hand fisting the steering wheel and his dick bulging through his jeans. You quickly mute the phone after realizing that you are close to cumming. “Jude,” you whispered, noticing his mouth twitching. “Please,” you begged. He smirks and finally twirls his middle finger causing you to moan out his name. “I love you, baby,” you heard Trent say on the phone as you make a mess in Jude’s car.

Next Morning

Fans suspect something must be going on with Jude Bellingham and Trent Alexander Arnold’s girlfriend. Although there were several other people, she left alone with him while her friends left in a separate car.

You groaned as you tried to block out the background noise. This must be another dream where you get caught hooking up with your boyfriend’s best friend.

Arnold, who is doing a shoot in LA, has been getting Instagram comments saying his best friend and girlfriend are fooling him. Although this is an accusation, fans are determined to have Arnold’s back.

Realizing that this was probably too specific to be a dream, you immediately jerk up from the pillow causing your head to explode in pain. “Fuck!” You shouted as you clenched your forehead. You weren’t dreaming because now the tv has moved on to other soccer updates. “Good morning,” a well-recognized voice says. You tilt your head back to see Jude sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hand. Immediately, you pulled the cover off and were startled after realizing you were in nothing but his t-shirt. “What happened?” You asked. Jude just lifts an eyebrow and watches you stumble out of bed and sit on the edge. “You think I would do anything while you’re unconscious?” He asked in a defensive tone. You don’t respond, causing him to look disappointed and continue to drink his coffee. “It’s all over the news, you know,” he mumbles. You look at the screen to see another news anchor reporting on the scene from the nightclub.

You fist the corner of the t-shirt after the news anchor says that everyone believes you and Jude are hiding something. Jude looked unfazed, like his friendship with Trent wasn���t in line. “I need to speak with my boyfriend,” you muttered and saw the slightest frustration on Jude’s face. Ignoring him, you reach for your phone only to see tons of missed calls from Trent and numerous messages from your friends. You sighed, excusing yourself to the bathroom, and dialed Trent’s number. This isn’t how his trip is supposed to go; he shouldn’t have to deal with this. He doesn’t deserve this.

The person you’re calling is not accepting calls right now.

It’s obvious the way they’re looking at one another shows there some tension 🤨

Oh fuck no! Trent deserves so much better

Ewww what do they see in her?

Y’all remember that TikTok theory that suggested something going on between Jude and Y/N?

Going home alone with your boyfriend’s bestfriend….Ahum yeah no.

Lol Trent is now Joáo Félix #2

You scroll through the comments under the article suggesting that you’re cheating on Trent with Jude. Everyone, literally everyone, was blaming everything on you, and some even went as far as threatening you. Jude has also been on the phone all morning, talking to his mother and his manager about what to do. He was also getting heat from BVB and England fans, but he wasn't displaying any anger; he was more worried about you than anything.

"My team plans on realizing a statement that says I was just taking care of you per Trent's request," Jude says after getting off the phone. You nod and stare at the photo of Trent getting crowded at the airport. You found out that Trent isn't able to pick up your call because he is on the plane right now and is coming home. Trent knew you went to the club and got picked up by Jude, but he didn’t realize you had spent the night at Jude’s place. Your house also has security cameras, so by now, you assumed he has checked whether you made it home and is disappointed to the point where he has to come back early. You have so much explaining to do, and there isn’t much you can do besides tell the truth. Trent didn’t deserve this, and you would never be able to forgive yourself if he was to get blamed for something you did. “Hey,” Jude says and sits down next to you. “I’ll handle this,” he says as he cups your cheeks and examines your tired eyes. You look at him, and he is as exhausted as you were, slightly shaken by the event that unfolded quickly. “You..you were with another girl, and I-” you cried in your hands. “I feel so stupid. If I hadn’t let my feelings get the best of me, this would’ve never happened.” Jude pulls you into a hug immediately and pats your head. “Baby, everything will be ok,” he whispers. “I’ll handle it.”

The house was cold and quiet when you arrived. Jude reassures you that he’ll release a statement and solve any misunderstanding. When he dropped you off, you were nervous, almost scared to go into your house, but he kissed you to calm your nerves. You’re sure he wants you to fix things with Trent before he speaks to him. You should’ve known that this wasn’t going to end well. “Trent!” You called out, but no response. You walk into the kitchen, and he isn’t there, but then you hear something from the basement. Calming yourself, you walk down the basement only to see the place looking like the FBI raided it. On the giant tv screen was the news of you and Jude and theories that tiktokers made up. “Omg,” you muttered when you saw Trent on the couch that was half torn, his hands bleeding from punching the wall. “Trent!” You screamed and ran over to him and grabbed his hand. He doesn’t respond; he lets you have your way.

You gently bandaged his hands as you felt his cold glares trailing up your face. He was quiet, unresponsive, unconscious, almost like a dead soul. “What happened to you?” You asked, panicking at his bruising fist. Trent doesn’t respond; he tilts his head back on the couch and raises the volume of the tv. It was another video of someone explaining your secret relationship with Jude and how it must’ve been going on for a while. Trent stares at you as you try to think of ways to explain the situation to him. He needed the truth, and you were not ready for the consequences.

“Care to enlighten me, baby?” Trent asked. You gulped and reached for his hands, but he stopped you before you could. “Don’t fucking touch me.” His cold tone causes you to shudder, and you almost break down in front of him. You’ve never seen this side of him, and you hate it. “How long?” He asked, already knowing the truth. Without looking into his eyes, you said, “Before Bora Bora.” He closes his eyes, heart-shattering at your answer. He was in so much pain, and he wanted nothing more than to hurt you, but he wasn’t going to. He loves you so much, but what you did was beyond forgivable. And nothing was ever going to solve this.

“Did you ever think of me?” He asked, voice cracking along the way. “You let the two years go like it was fucking nothing.” Your heart breaks at the mention of that, and you slowly start tearing up. “I’m so sorry, Trent. There is nothing I can say that would justify my action.” Sighing, he stands up and looks down at your trembling form. Both of you stare at one another, looking into each other’s eyes, the last two years flashing between one another. “I loved you so much,” he sighs; closing his eyes, he places his forehead on yours. You cried as he caressed your cheeks, wiping the tears along the way. “It could’ve been anyone, Y/N. It could’ve been someone else, but it just had to be Jude. You could’ve cheated on me with my coach, my rival, or anyone, and I wouldn’t be as fucked up as I am right now. Please tell me the reason; tell me why,” he cries. You pulled him into a hug, comforting him as he breaks down on your shoulder, whispering how much he hates you, and how much he wanted to hurt you. But he couldn’t because he loves you.

The rest of the night ended with you packing your things and Trent locking himself in the guest room. He didn’t want to see you leave, but he didn’t want to be near you. You fucked up his brain, his heart, and his pride. If he could have it his way, he would have taken his revenge by fucking every one of your friends. Just to hurt you, but he was Trent. He loved you and still does, and the last thing he wanted was to stomp down that low. The two years' worth of memories were still alive in his mind, and he wanted nothing but to tear them up. You still haven’t given him answers, but one day he knew he would hear it, but right now, you guys needed to distance yourself. He feels so betrayed. So used, so tired, so hurt by your action. And the devastating thing was, he couldn’t confine in his best friend that he trusted. It was not an end to one relationship, but two, and he paid the price for two people's mistakes.

3 months later

Trent Alexander Arnold is left out of England squad. Southgate has named a 25-man squad for the Three Lions' upcoming Euro 2024 qualifying matches with Italy and Ukraine, and Trent is not in the lineup. People believe it is due to the scandal three months ago, where Trent announced his breakup with his long-term girlfriend because she was accused of cheating with his best friend, Jude Bellingham. Bellingham, still in the England squad, released a statement three months ago clarifying the misunderstanding and stating that he has a good relationship with Y/N and they’re still friends despite her break up with Arnold. Arnold did not further comment on the topic and ignored the media's questions regarding his relationship with Bellingham.

You turn off the tv and stare up at the ceiling. It has been three months since you quit your job and hid from the world. After Trent announced the breakup, you deactivated your social media and turned in your two weeks' notice. You knew the consequences were severe, and it would take years before anyone moved on. But this was all your fault, so you can’t blame anyone but yourself.

Looking at the bookshelves to your right, you sat up from the couch and decided to read a new book. Jude brought books every time he visited because he felt terrible that he couldn’t always be with you. The private secluded house he rented for you was far from the outside world, and no one knew the location. It was the perfect getaway house, but you get bored quickly.

Looking through the bookshelves, you see a gray cover book that seems slightly out of place. You pull it out and examine the cover; it is blank, with the initial J on the bottom. It doesn’t look like an ordinary book but a notebook or diary. Sighing, you were about to open it when you heard the door open, suggesting that Jude was here. You smile as he walks in with a bag full of groceries, and he is still in his practice clothes. “Hey,” he says and places the bags down on the floor. “Hi,” you mumbled and looked down at the book. Jude walks towards you and quickly grabs the book in your hand and tosses it on the couch. “How’s my baby?” He asked. You smile and look down at your stomach, which has a little bump already. He grins and slowly gets on his knees, and places his head on your belly. You smile and caress his hair, smiling at the sight below you. You knew what you did was a mistake, and it should’ve never happened, but things turned out a lot different than you expected. You didn’t think Jude would be there to pick up the pieces, but he did; he took you in and protected you from the outside world. You know you have unfinished business with Trent, and once the world sees you again, they’ll be quick to judge, but that was the price you had to pay for, but at least you have Jude and the baby growing inside of you.

Jude smiles as he watches you look through baby clothes that he purchased. He was happy, so pleased that things turned out for the best. He thought he would lose you, but instead, you agreed to let him protect you and hide you from the outside world. He picks up the notebook you were holding and goes to his office. Locking the door, he opens the notebook, and drawings and pictures of you appear on every notebook page. He grins as he sees his plans written out perfectly. One by one, he tears them and tosses them into the fireplace. You didn’t need to see any of these. You would never understand and would freak out. From the beginning, ever since he tasted you, he has become obsessed and planned everything. He planned the incident where Saka was drunk and told Trent to take him home even though Harry suggested he did. He suggested Marcus' birthday be at a private club so he could spend time with you. He suggested the team bonding at Bora Bora to see you again. He even hired a model to be his date and act slutty so you could be jealous and triggered. And he called the boys to raid Girl’s Night and also made sure paparazzi were called so you could be photographed. And he didn’t mean to go this far, but he planned all along to get you pregnant so you wouldn’t be able to leave him. Smiling, he watches as the notebook burns, hiding his deepest secret.

The End

Note: Trent deserves better, and I’m thinking of writing from his pov. Jude and Y/N got a happy ending, and it’s not fair that Trent is left suffering. But Y/N doesn’t know who Jude is, and although she did Trent wrong, I think if Trent finds out about Jude’s obsession, he will help her. But he also deserves his own happy ending.

Trent's POV Final

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