#look at her sad pathetic lesbian eyes

[theinsterminators]

UE U EUE E EUE U UE UE UE EU E UE U (sound of crying)

THE FIXATION IS ACTUALLY IN FULL GEAR CHAT I DREW THIS SHIT AT LIKE 3 AM LAST NIGHT

why are all my best works scribbles or doodles or practice or whatever that i ended up accidentally turning into full pieces like what the hell

also holy shit my proportions dont look like dogshit for once what the fuck. did the fixation like buff my fuckin art skill stat or smth cus like what in the fucketh

anyways!! woma!!! she turns around and her dress flows like a disney princess's... and her fucking big ass wistful sopping wet cat eyes with the eyebags that make her look like she's 5 seconds away from spontaneously collapsing........

wome...wo..womemen...womn.... woemen....

also corset because i fucking love corsets, theyre incredibly victorian and because i said so :3

also no the yellow rose choker means nothing absolutely nothing its definitely not a reference to anything at all!!! (blatantly lying)

(edit: forgor to mention that whoops this is a genderbend)

filterless version

also i. i accidentally hid an entire layer but i didnt even notice until now. fuck it we ball its too late to fix it

[chelseeebe]

happy coincidences

18+. smut. mdni. modern au.

day four of spooky week back with steve who meets reader at robin’s halloween party, only, you may have more than just costumes in common

a/n: in honour of joe saying he thinks that modern steve would have a swiftie girlfriend.. i had to make r a swiftie

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Louise had called it off. 

Again. 

“I think you just need to get the fuck over it and get the fuck over someone else,” Robin states plainly, continuing to decorate her scarily bright orange pumpkin cookies. 

“Rob,” he sighs, dipping his finger into the leftover batter, “it doesn’t work like that.” 

“But it does,” ignoring his pleas of despair, “I’ve seen you break up with hundreds of women and not once have you been so pathetic about it,” snatching the bowl from his reach, “we’re going to get you laid and if you’re still sad about it after then I’ll take pity on you.” 

Steve frowns, a deep set crease between his thick brows. Sex would’ve normally cheered him up, no doubt. But Louise was different. 

They’d been on-again, off-again for almost a year now, too far gone for some meaningless pussy to fix. 

-

“No fucking way,” Robin exclaims, grabbing his hand and tugging him off towards the other side of the kitchen, “this is perfect! Perfect!” muttering along to herself as Steve's heels dig into the floor in protest. 

“What’re you doing?” he spits, almost knocking her over when she stops abruptly in front of him.

A group of girls sit equally as confused on the couch, smiling up at Robin with a shared baffled look in their eye. 

That’s when he sees the hat, pink and sparkly, slowly trailing down to the matching costume. So that’s why she’d dragged him over here. You were unintentionally matching with him. The perfect Barbie and Ken duo, a fitting part in Robin’s master plan to get him over Louise. 

“Can you believe you’re matching?” she fusses, fingering the details of your jean jacket, “I don’t think you two have met before? How crazy is that?” pinching Steve's arm, nudging him to say something.. anything really. 

You hum, smiling up at him from underneath the brim of your cowboy hat, “you look great,” eyeing the tassels around his pecks, the vest that now felt a touch too much. 

He felt stupid before but now, he felt utterly idiotic. Realising quite how extravagant and completely unnecessary the costume was. 

“Thanks,” he nods, receiving another sharp pinch from his best friend, forcing him to cough up a real reply, “yeah.. you do too.”

Your eyes fall back to Robin as she backs slowly away, “I’ll let you two get to know each other, okay? i’ve gotta check on my.. cookies! Yeah! My cookies!” 

A bare-faced lie. Those fucking cookies had been out of the over for hours at this point. Steve had taxed a few for the inconvenience of her pestering him all night. 

You flash him a thin-lipped smile, clearly as interested in this as he was. “Your girlfriend make you dress up as Ken, huh?” your own friends shuffling to the other side of the couch, away from the awkward conversation. 

“Oh! No.. no, Rob made me,” unsure of whether you were implying the massive lesbian that had forced him over here was his girlfriend or if there was another lady in his life. 

Neither would be true.  

Robin hollers from across the room, “he’s a liar! He wanted to be Ken all on his own!” before disappearing into the kitchen to check on her cookies. 

Your smile grows, “hey.. I don’t judge,” taking a slow sip from your glass, totally undeserving of having Robin force Steve onto your night. 

God he needs a drink. Or five. 

Maybe after a couple beers he’d have the confidence to talk to you properly. 

“I really liked the movie, okay? it was fun,” deciding to lean into it, slowly but surely. “And you know, Barbie’s hot.” 

Oh. 

He doesn’t just mean Margot Robbie either. 

Your cleavage spills out of your shirt, only really visible from this angle he was leering from. 

“She is,” you laugh, “I’m sorry- what was your name again?”

“Steve,” offering his hand for you to shake. Why did he do that? You aren’t agreeing on a new marketing strategy for fuck sake. 

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” rabbiting your name as if his brain would do anything other than call you Barbie all night. “You look like you need a drink.” 

He nods, chuckling under his breath, “I do.” 

“Well,” you stand, unexpectedly a lot closer than probably intended, “let’s get you a drink, Steve.” 

-

The party thumps on, you and Steve still reluctantly circle around one another, both too awkward or maybe just unwilling to take it further. 

Robin makes it known that Steve would be a colossal fucking idiot for not immediately trying to win you over, making it very obvious as she sidles up next to him at the makeshift beer-pong table. 

“What is your problem?” she hisses, shoving a cup of liquid courage into his chest, “make a move before someone else does, idiot.”

“I dunno,” exhaling pathetically, “I just don’t think I’m ready yet,” eyeing you from across the table, too engrossed in the game of beer-pong to care about his whining. 

Robin’s sharp elbow connects with his ribcage, “don’t be so fucking stupid,” snarling loud enough for him to hear over the music, “I think you should go for it. God knows I’m sick of hearing you cry over Louise.” 

He truly wants to be offended, even opening his mouth to offer a rebuttal, though nothing comes out. 

Regrettably, Robin was right. 

Louise had made it clear that she no longer wanted him, so why was he still so hung up over her? It was exhausting. Not only for Robin, but him too. 

The ping pong ball lands in Steve’s drink with a loud plunk, pulling him out of his head to find you already smiling back at him. 

“I think that means I win,” rocking on your heels, a syrupy sweet smile sticks to your lips. You deserved far better than the lacklustre night he was giving you, that’s for sure. 

Steve nods, downing the rest of his drink and attempting to hide his grimace as the liquid burns his throat. Robin had slipped him pure ethanol or something, her grin made her ill intentions very clear. 

You continue to beat his ass for a while, Steve was better at basketball than beer-pong that’s for certain. He didn’t care anyway, the new-found haze in his head was welcomed, sidling closer and closer to your side as his chest warms up. 

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he whispers, lips practically touching your ear, this was the bravest he’d gotten all night, perhaps he wasn’t such a lost cause after all. 

He stumbles into the bathroom, finding his balance against the cold wall when his phone buzzes against his thigh. 

what r u doing tonight? 

The message reads, sending a sinking feeling through his chest. 

Louise, making sure than even though they’re not together anymore, he can’t move on. 

Why does she even care? 

Why does he care enough to respond? 

He stews on it, using the bathroom to buy himself some time to figure out what he should do. Slinking off into the hallway after a moment of consideration, finger hovering over the call button for an embarrassingly long amount of time until he just does it. 

It rings. And rings. And rings. 

“Hello?” Louise’s voice echoes into his ear. 

“Hey.” 

There’s an empty sigh down the line, “I didn’t mean.. that text wasn’t meant for you.” 

“Oh.” 

Another dagger to his chest, piercing through his thumping heart. The confirmation he needed that not only did she not care about him but that she had moved on. 

“Steve I’m-“ 

The tone beeps, not allowing her to take up any more of his time. She didn’t care, he shouldn’t care. That was the end of it.

He slinks down onto the stairs, eyeing the door. He could be out of here before you even remembered he existed, sulking in his room like he’d wanted to in the first place. 

The music gets louder, light creeping in as the door creaks open, your face soft as your eyes meet his hunched over frame, like a pathetic little weasel. 

“I thought I should find my Ken again,” chuckling awkwardly. 

Your Ken? That was a little presumptuous of you. 

He’s immediately sorry. 

Soured by the conversation with Louise. An unnecessary hindrance to his entire night. 

“You okay?” you pry, no doubt noticing his glum demeanour, coming to sit on the cramped step next to him.

Steve sighs, looking at the blank phone screen in front of him, deciding whether to impede all of his misery onto you or to not ruin this entire night. 

Remembering Robin’s, albeit harsh, words. 

He goes for the latter. 

“Yeah.. I’m good,” knee knocking into yours, “are you?” 

You nod, smiling softly, “I’m gonna head home now, I just wanted to let you know that it was really nice to meet you, Steve,” standing from the staircase, leaving a sudden, cold ache to his side, “I hope your.. girl problems get better soon.”

they would, almost immediately, get better if he just stopped acting like a pussy. 

You weren’t exactly being inconspicuous with your flirting either. This was on him and him alone. 

He’s not shocked Robin had divulged to you all about his lingering annoyance of a relationship, no doubt trying to sell him to you at the same time too. 

So Steve does something he never does. He thinks on his feet. 

“Let me walk you back,” jumping up, “it’s dark and i can’t let you walk home alone,” a contained smile, the previously empty confidence now coming back.

You pucker your lips, tilting your head to the side, all the while Steve prays to God that you’ll give him one last chance. 

“Sure,” shrugging coyly, as if you weren’t banking on him volunteering anyway. 

“Alright,” he grins, enthusiastically nodding his head, “I’ll just say goodbye to Rob and then we can.. go,” faltering now that he’d made the leap into uncharted territory. 

Steve had been a master at one night stands, only that was two years ago and Louise had served a harsh knock to his confidence. Besides all that, you were worth more than just one night. 

“I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” announcing your departure to the dwindling room, heads spinning to watch the door. 

Robin contains her grin, only just. Sipping on her drink to keep her blathering mouth occupied, she’d put in the work to even get him here in the first place, now all he needed to do was not fuck it up. 

A chorus of goodbyes ring out behind you, stepping into the cool October air, he suddenly wishes he was wearing a little more than just his rhinestone shirt. 

“This one?” you tease once out onto the street, wrapping 

your arms around yourself. 

Steve inhales, staring at the star filled sky, fully embracing his cringe, “don’t.. don’t talk about it.” 

“Why?” you laugh, stumbling into him as you traipse down the road, “you don’t remember my name, do you?” 

“Of course I do,” blowing the air out of his cheeks with full confidence, “your name… is Barbie,” so certain that that’d work on you. 

You scoff, stopping dead in your tracks, “you fucking forgot,” in complete disbelief that he’d even attempt to bullshit his answer, “you’re unbelievable Steve,” really making your point, only slightly pissed off. 

“Don’t do that,” unable to hold the smile from his face any longer, “I can’t help that you’re the best Barbie I’ve ever seen, you know?” 

Your eyes roll back, striding past him but not without reiterating your name again, perfectly clear and right into his ear. You’re not really annoyed, at least he doesn’t think so. Steve’s sure he’ll remember your name forever after tonight, one way or another. 

He expertly changes the conversation for the rest of the duration of the walk back, asking about your job and not-so-discreetly slipping your name into every other sentence. 

“Well, this is me,” you smile, stopping just before the house with the extravagantly decorated door, a plethora of pumpkins litter the steps all as badly carved as the other. 

He marvels at the display, the dedication to the holiday, Eddie would laugh in his face if he ever suggested carving pumpkins for their house. “Alright.. it was really nice to meet you tonight,” standing with his arms tucked neatly behind his back, “I’ve had a really nice time with you.” 

You nod, slowly ascending the steps to the door, “you too, Steve. Are you.. close to here or..?” weighing up whether inviting him inside was a sane idea. 

“Oh no,” shaking his head, once perfected hair now falling into his warm face, “I live like.. two miles that way,” pointing in the direction you’d walked from. 

“And you decided to walk me home? Why didn’t you say something?” falling into a fit of laughter. He didn’t blame you, really, it would be crazy to anyone else. 

“Because I’m a gentleman,” smiling sweetly, “it’s not a big deal,” he shrugs, though he really doesn’t anticipate having to actually walk home. 

“Well thanks a lot,” unsure of the sarcasm twinge to your tone, “I didn’t realise Ken was such a gentleman.” 

“Of course I am,” bowing down to tip his imaginary hat, a total performance all just to earn a sweet giggle from your mouth. 

You turn, just before opening the door, your eyes low and dark,  “you wouldn’t wanna.. come in, would you?” shivering under the moonlight. 

“Do you? Want me to come in, I mean,” Steve can’t really think straight at all, he’s been so preoccupied with Louise to even think about the possibility of anything more happening between you two. 

But now he’s here, he can’t stop his dick from twitching in his pants. You are pretty, gorgeous really. He’d be an idiot to say no. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to,” scoffing quietly. 

“Well I wouldn’t want to upset you now,” cocking his grin to the side as he makes his way up the steps. 

You shake your head, unmoving when he reaches the top, your bodies inches apart. The tension thick, as it had been all night. only now he was able to really feel it. Had you been looking at him like this all night? With your features pinched and your chest heaving.

Steve doesn’t think so, but then, he was so oblivious that it wouldn’t surprise him at all. 

Excitement and slight intoxication courses through his veins, an excitement he hadn’t felt in months. Louise was never this happy or eager to have sex with him, it felt something like a chore most times. 

You spin, breaking the tension abruptly, unlocking the door to your dark house and ushering him inside. 

“You live alone?” he asks, wondering if any nosy roommates would be interfering tonight. 

“Nope,” flicking the light on, “they’re all still at the party,” it’s obvious now, in the light. Pairs of shoes strewn across the floor and pictures of grinning girls line the walls, his gaze is drawn to the one of you in the summer, beaming from ear to ear as the sun beats down on your face. 

Not to mention the cherry red bikini peeking out of the bottom of the picture. 

“That’s.. good,” twisting his lips into a shrouded smirk. 

“Oh yeah?” kicking your shoes off, the tense atmosphere made slightly softer by your nonchalance, “why’s that?” you level with him, the space between you shrinking with every step.  

“I just meant.. it’s good that you don’t live all on.. your own,” struggling to make sense of his rambling with your eyes staring up at him like that, glittering while ever-so-slightly judging. 

You laugh, loud and sudden, “I think you should just stop talking and kiss me,” teetering on your tiptoes as you wet your lips, an entire night of dancing around one another had led to you barking instructions at him. 

He needed it, to be honest, completely fumbling around, his nerve shot and depleted. 

Soft skin meets his cheek, making the first move while he stands buffering, only snapping out of his trance when your thumb grazes his lip, pressing his lips to yours in a haste. Steve had wasted too much time overthinking every move, decidedly trying not to fuck this up all night. 

He can feel your smile grow against his lips, taking the control over the kiss back by finding your waist with his cold hands. Opening up an entirely new world, the metaphorical sparks fly from your skin, a passion unfelt for far too long. 

You pull back only just, still brushing against his lips with your eyes pressed shut, “should we go upstairs?” 

Steve thinks the answer is obvious, his grip on your waist gave that much away for sure. He nods anyway, for good measure, letting you take his hand to lead him up the cluttered stairway, almost sprinting as the urge to get you out of your clothes explodes. 

“Ignore the mess,” you warn but he’s not paying any attention to anything other than you, drinking in your hips and the way they sway. 

He knocks the hat from your head, hands finding solace on your back as he pulls you in again, this kiss more fiery than the last, grabby and hungry making you hum in shock. Eager to satisfy the ache in his cock, even if it were just by making out. 

Your fingers work at the buttons on his shirt, brushing against his chest as his tongue moves between your lips, a fervent battle with your own. There had been no this with Louise, that was certain, a vanilla love affair that often ended in disappointment for the both of them. 

The cloth leaves his shoulders, hitting the ground with a soft thump to welcome your hands around his neck, clammy as they grasp his skin. He’s a novice now, once filled with an overbearing confidence to now, a fumbling mess. 

His hands feel around for your bed, laying you back across the mattress tumbling on top clumsily. Unbuttoning your waistcoat with a trembling hand, you take the reins even from underneath, sliding your legs up against his waist, further closing the distance. 

Your lips unlock, allowing him time to take in a much needed breath. You’re braless underneath your costume, shimmying the fabric off and tossing it to the ground all the while actively ignoring Steve’s gawping. 

“It’s rude to stare,” you jest, though you don’t attempt to hide at all. 

Steve’s gaze flickers, once to your eyes and back down again, eyes wide and adoring, “I’m not sorry,” he quips back before resuming the kiss, focused on getting your pants down. 

Your panties already soaked, legs opening to welcome him inside perfectly, he sits up on his knees, mouth slack as he admires the view laid before him. There hadn’t been any thought in his mind that this was how you’d end up tonight, but he’s sure glad he’s here. 

His hands glide up the soft skin of your thighs, squeezing gently for good measure, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties, taking his time to slide them down your legs. The tight feel of his pants suddenly becoming too much, his leaking tip pressed against the shoddy costume fabric. 

“I haven’t.. it’s been a while,” he warns, a subconscious effort to turn you off as if you weren’t glistening before his eyes, pupils blown and aching for him. 

“I don’t care,” you huff in response, tightening your calves around his waist. 

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, in awe of your vigour, struggling to get his own pants off with the newfound tent in his crotch. Clambering back over to hover above, his dick straining against his boxers. 

Your hands come to find his shoulders as his boxers come down, “you’re.. Jesus Christ,” you remark, looking down at the space between your bodies. 

It was no secret that his dick was on the bigger side, that was made clear very early on in his life.

“I’m not.. not quite,” laughing to himself, the pressure easing only the tiniest bit as he fists his cock, guiding his fat tip to your weeping hole, sliding between your slick folds before easing himself inside. 

Your breathing stutters in synchronicity, digging your fingernails into the sweaty skin of his neck. “Fucking.. shit,” Steve splutters, fisting the pillowcase with an almighty need to not cum right then and there. 

Quickly finding his rhythm, kept in time by your in heady moans and the slight rut of your hips against his. You were an entirely new experience, your pussy drinking him in immediately and with every stroke he loses brain cells. 

You whine, needily bucking your hips to meet his, sending shivers up his spine when your fingertips graze his scalp alongside the gentle tugging of his hair. 

He’s grateful you’re alone as the mattress creaks inconspicuously in time with his hips, one night stands had been his forte a few years ago and he’d been caught out by rusty bed springs more times than he’d like to admit. 

Your eyes struggle to stay open, jaw slack, allowing your sweet wails to escape. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” Steve gushes, a bumbling mess transfixed by your warmth. 

You breathe airly, cracking a smile at his blown out eyes and furrowed brow, “not while they were inside of me no,” sliding your calf up his side, allowing him deeper. 

“They should’ve,” he pants, unsure of where this was even coming from. He feels giddy, like this was always meant to happen. 

You brush back the loose strands of hair from in front of his eyes, clung to his sweaty forehead, “thank you, but I kinda need you to move,” his cock stilled while he babbles on. 

“Yeah.. yeah,” Steve nods, leaning down to lazily connect your lips, drawing a dulcet whimper from your throat when he sinks back into your cunt. 

Warmth arises from his stomach to his chest and almost back out of his mouth, his head turning to complete fuzz. You taste like sweet wine and peppermint, your tongue dancing between his lips to battle with his. If your plan was to make him fall in love, you might’ve just succeeded. 

“Shitshitshit,” you mumble, leaving the kiss to press your lips to the stubble on his jaw instead, vibrating the skin with every desperate curse and plea. 

His fingers grip the space around your head, moving over to gently stroke your cheek, slowly losing his stature as the knot tightens in his stomach. “I’m gonna.. shit, I’m gonna cum,” rushing the words out before they lose all meaning in his noisy brain. 

“Yeah?” lips twitching upward, “just.. just not inside,” making sure to get your very important point across before the line was blurred forever. 

Pulling out of your pussy in record time before he shudders, hot ropes of his seed paint your stomach, Steve’s brain collapses in on itself before he has time to move himself. Sputtering a half-assed apology before collapsing onto the mattress next to you, breathless as he reels. 

“Holy shit,” panting softly, reaching over for some discarded item of clothing to clean yourself up, letting him recover with his face pressed into your pillow, his deep, heaving breaths eventually slowing. 

“Sorry for uh.. that,” glancing downward, hoping you wouldn’t now make him walk home in his costume and acres of shame. 

Instead, you throw the blanket over him before snuggling in closer, a particular shine in your eye before delving into your barrage of thoughts about the night. 

-

The sun beats through your blinds, forcing him awake far too early. 

You don’t stir, still peacefully asleep on the pillow next to him. Steve couldn’t even remember falling asleep, one minute asking about your major to waking up with your legs intertwined. 

The sound of his phone vibrating against the bedside table shocks him fully awake. Robin probably thought he was dead. Five missed calls and the barrage of texts definitely solidified that. 

are you alive??? 

steve 

this is serious now can you reply to me before i call the cops

He reaches down, swooping the pink bejeweled hat off of the ground and lazily placing it on his own head. sticking his tongue out at his phone before snapping a quick picture, his thumb immediately sending the picture to his, no doubt, curious best friend. 

She replies almost immediately, making sure to heart react to the image before going on her tangent. 

i fucking knew it! 

i knew ot!!!!!!

how was it? 

do u like her?? 

His phone vibrates in his hand, afraid he’d wake you with the incessant sound. 

great

and 

yes 

Steve replies, leaving everything to her wild imagination. 

you bastard tell me more 

i knew you’d like her!

why don’t u ever trust me

He sighs, knowing that once again Robin was right.

shut up 

dinner later? 

She pings back instantaneously.

yes. 

He clicks his phone shut, placing it back on the nightstand, the bright pink hat still perched on his head. He wanted to wake you, hoping you’d still like him the same now that you were sober. 

Black streaks of your mascara are smeared across your under eye and cheeks, hell, Steve was definitely wearing it too. There’s glitter everywhere, scattered across your bedsheets and his tan skin and almost certainly his hair. His eyes slide around your cluttered room, the pictures and Taylor Swift posters that adorned the walls, piles of unfinished books on your desk. He’s particularly interested in the shelf of vinyl records, though he could fathom a guess as to what they probably were. 

You rouse from your slumber next to him, sighing softly as you awaken, “nice hat,” mumble from the pillow, squinting at the sight before you, he probably looked a mess. Sure as shit felt like one. 

“Oh shit,” Steve laughs, forgetting he even still had it on, “Robin was just making sure you weren’t a murderer,” tossing the hat back to the floor, his cheeks flushing a deep scarlet red. 

“Not a murderer,” you chuckle, “but I might murder you for an aspirin and some fries though.”

“I think I could make that happen without you having to kill me,” he smiles, volunteering to venture into the depths of your scary house for an aspirin. 

“Please do, and quickly,” grumbling from your perch on the pillow, suffering worse than he was. 

“You just wait here and I’ll be back in no time,” he’s just about to clamber from the bed when the door swings open, hurriedly grabbing the blanket to keep his dignity intact as some girl he quickly identifies as your roommate bursts in. 

“Oh woah,” she exclaims, pretending to cover her eyes while she peeks through the middle two, “so that’s where you went! We weren’t sure if you were dead or not,” not so unfamiliar with his snooping friends. 

You groan, shuffling around your cocoon to face her, “I feel like I’m dying,” your voice gruff in comparison to the angelic tones ringing in his ears last night. He still absolutely loved it either way. 

“That’s a shame,” the girl sarcastically pouts, “I was just about to ask if you and your friend would like to join us at Flannery’s tonight but if you’re dying…”

Your head perks up ever so slightly, “oh really? I think I could get myself together enough to come..” turning back to ask Steve, “what about you?”

He nods in a rather overzealous manner, “yeah, yeah I’ll be there.” 

“You should invite your friend Robin I think, I mean- it’d be cool if she was there too,” shrugging her obvious pining off before flouncing out of the room in a cloud of curls and sickly perfume. 

He looks over to you, your eyes already staring back, glinting with a withheld laugh, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.. I’m sure you and Robin have something way better to do.”

“No!” far too enthusiastic a response for an invite to some college town bar, “I mean, I’m sure we could show our faces.. if we really had to,” Steve wasn’t blasé about anything ever, much less confirmation that you just might like him too. 

You beam, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, “okay.. good, because..  I’d really like you to be there.” 

[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (one)

a/n: oh did you think this was gonna be a cute lil fluff fic? nahh it’s sad city down there!! be careful..

content warnings: ANGST panic attacks.. hurt (no comfort.) joel is dead. ellie’s a lil sad :/// ellie’s a lil anxious… ellie’s a projection of me.. ANYWAYS. reader and ellie are kinda the same but different ??? swearing ofc.. reader is very much okay with being a lesbian ! and she’s on good terms with the baby fawtha cause what! ellie is not fond of children apparently?? she also might be autistic.

wc: 2k.

taglist: @flowersforvi @diddiqueen @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen

ellie grew up around masculinity, thats why people assume she is the way she is. but ellie can assure that her brain would work the exact same way if she had a mother.

plus, she had joel. that was really all she needed. she still knew how to be a woman. it’s not like she grew up without a mother and didn’t know anything about herself.

2 WEEKS AND 4 DAYS AGO..

ellie sighed and threw the white stained towel over her shoulder. fuck she muttered under her breath as she read yet another email.

ATTENTION STUDENTS!

You will all be required to purchase the following textbooks in order to complete the course - They will help immensely in the upcoming exam. I recommend reading carefully and thoroughly.

Sincerely,

Prof Morgan.

all 5 of the books linked in the email were over $150.00 each. how the fuck was she supposed to work that out? all while paying her own tuition, rent and utilities.

“yo, williams!” her manager jesse yelled, interrupting her calculations.

“breaks over.” he snatches the towel from her shoulder and makes his way back into the kitchen with it in tow.

she scoffs and shoves her phone back into her polyester pocket. jesse’s head pops back into the room “oh and” he starts before turning to her. “you’re training today” she scoffs and lifts herself off the chair.

“is that even in my job description?” she follows him out of the kitchen once again.

“sure it is, i just described it to you.” he winks, ellie huffs.

the sky had dimmed by the time ellies shift was over. skating home was gonna be a bitch.

“you need a ride home?” dina places a hand atop her shoulder, a helpful smile on her face. ellie really wanted to say no. she’s been asking for help from others so much lately.

“no, uhh- i’ll get home t’night. thanks dee.” she nods as she grabs her skateboard from her locker. have the trucks always been this lose?

“no, i insist.” dina presses. she pulls out her keys and throws her bag over her shoulder.

“let’s go, my child.” she giggles at the nickname. ellies shoulders relax.

“thanks again, i really appreciate it.” ellie said, her tone laced with genuine gratitude. dina dismisses her with a hand flick. “don’t even sweat it.” she bragged. “now get goin, it’s late.”

ellie pushes the car door open with a steady grip on her skateboard. her smile falters as she waves dina off.

she unlocks her door with a trembling hand, she hated being alone.

the picture of her and joel neatly placed beside the coat rack mocked her as she placed her skateboard down in its dedicated spot. she stared into the picture until the colors morphed into one big glob.

the loss of not just a parent, but her only parent cut her deep. she could barely lift her head for the first while, nevermind go to work. she should be proud of herself! but she isn’t.

how could she be? she felt like everyone else in her life was doing so much with themselves. dina had a kid for fucks sake! dina had a whole kid and ellie couldn’t even get to class on time.

“fuck.” she muttered as she placed her keys down. bills upon bills were flooding the kitchen counter. tears burned at her eyes, blurring her eyesight.

i look so pathetic right now. she thought. a slight chuckle leaving her throat at that.

she tried to blink back the tears but she couldn’t, they just kept coming.

her silent whimpers quickly turned to snotty sobs as her chest heaved in and out involuntarily. she placed a heavy hand on her heart as she slid down the kitchen cabinet. soon enough she found herself completely breathless and wailing.

she eventually calmed herself through deep breaths and a cold glass of water. as she does through every panic attack, although the melancholic feeling always lingered.

after joels death ellie could never find herself truly happy. especially not in an environment where he was everything, everytime she turned around she was reminded of the man who wasn’t even her real father.

nothing was really hers.

she made her way down the dark, dusty hallway to her bedroom. desks adorned with pictures of her and joel. she ignored them this time.

she stripped of her uniform and took to the shower. the water burning her skin till it turned red. she scrubbed harshly at her scalp and body. she smelt like grease. gross.

the after shower feeling made her feel a bit better. she grabbed her toothbrush and rinsed it before wiping a glob of colgate toothpaste on the bristles and shoving it in her mouth.

ellie chased sleep for what felt like an eternity. her damp hair scratching at her neck was definitely a part of the problem.

thank god she didn’t work saturdays..

the first 30 seconds of ellie’s day were complete bliss, usually. but not today.

today ellie woke up to the obnoxious sound of a child crying. she decided right then and there that the universe hates her and wants her to die. (but she thinks that about everyone in her life..)

she scoffs and walks over to the curtains, her own padded feet already annoying her.

she peeks out the curtain only to be met with a u-haul and an suv parked in the driveway next door.

new neighbors, how wonderful. and they had a whiny kid! perfect.

she continues watching out the window until she sees you hand off the kid to its father. her eyes follow you until you step into the u-haul and start dragging boxes out. that’s when she sighs and decides to get ready for the day. even though she doesn’t want to.

your entire life you were desperate to be equal. to be taken seriously. you craved maturity.

you spent your entire childhood chasing adulthood. you were desperate to grow up. you didn’t know it then, but you would regret it.

the one thing you didn’t regret, was felix. the baby that you got out of your last relationship. that was before you realized you were very much a lesbian..

“cmon baby, just put your shoe on.” you struggled against the child in the backseat as he wailed. the sound was excruciating.

“please- can you just let mommy put your shoe on?” you gritted as you attempted to shove the shoe onto her other foot.

“no!” he screamed, almost directly into your face. that was it.

“you know what? fuck it.” you muttered the last words under your breath. truthfully you already weren’t setting a good example, but hey! let not say fuck infront of our kid!

you gave up on the shoes and shushed him gently as you undid his seatbelt from his car seat. you placed him in the arms of his father, tossing the shoe into his dinosaur covered backpack.

he slowly came down from his tantrum as he placed his head on his dads shoulder.

“you sure you don’t need me to help unpack?” your ex asks, unsure of leaving you behind with an entire house to furnish.

“yep! i’m good!” you smile. you gently kiss your baby’s forehead before shutting your car door.

the father nods in response. “just text if you need and we will be here. isn’t that right felix?” he asks the child who nods profusely.

“of course mama!” he shouts causing you and his dad to laugh. “well alright then!” you rush, it was still early but you were eager to get to your gardening before dark.

you watch as your ex buckles the kid in and situated himself in the car, before pulling out of the driveway he rolls down felixs window.

you blow kisses as the pull out of the driveway and take off to ‘the old house’ in your sons words.

as soon as the car is out of sight you make your way over to the U-Haul.

you’re so focused on getting this last box out of the truck that you don’t even feel the presence creep up behind you.

“hey did you need some hel-”

“what the fuck!”

you jump in fear before turning around. being faced with a red headed, green eyed girl.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” she apologizes calmly. an awkward look on her face as you stare at her wide eyed.

you chuckle lightly before putting your hands on your hips. “it’s alright, hon.” you reassure.

you two just awkwardly stare at eachother for a few seconds before ellie finally speaks up again.

“i saw you struggling. did you want some help?” she asks. her eyes drifting to the box filled with gardening tools.

“oh that would be amazing!” you said before wiping the sweat of your forehead.

ellies eyes follow a droplet of seat down your neckline all the way down your cleavage. she finds herself licking her lips

before you introduce yourself.

she darts her eyes back up to your own, praying that you didn’t see her blatantly check you out. “i’m- i’m ellie.” she jumps over her words.

since when did you not know how to speak, idiot? she internally face palms before walking over to pick up the box.

“where do you want this?” she asks with a grunt as she steadys the box in her arms.

“just over here” you direct, letting her follow you as you walked over to the side of the house. she follows you and sets the box down with ease. she jokingly wipes the dirt off of her hands before nodding and starting to walk off.

“oh sweetie! i don’t wanna be a bother but would you mind helping me with one more thing?”

you must’ve been magic because somehow you swindled ellie into helping you with almost everything, and she was totally fine with it.

currently you were both at your kitchen island, laughing over a bottle of wine.

ellie had confided in you about school and you had rambled to her about what it’s like to be a mother.

“yeah, i mean- besides pregnancy it’s not all that bad.” you admit. ellie’s face shifts at the mention of pregnancy.

“i don’t know if i could ever have a baby inside me. i think i’d like- die.?” she questions. “not that i would of course” she giggles. your face becomes a look of confusion.

“no boyfriend? or just not one for kids?” you ask. you totally forgot that it’s very possible for her to be-

“i’m a lesbian” she answers and takes another sip of wine. her eyes watching your face for any negative reaction.

you clap your hands over your mouth quickly. now it seems obvious.

“i am so sorry, that totally slipped my mind.” she laughs at your attempts to redeem yourself.

“it’s totally chill, don’t worry.” she reassures, a smile on her face.

“i am too, actually.” you admit, it was your first time admitting it to someone other than yourself of your now ex husband.

“oh i was just gonna ask if that was your husband out there earlier.” she fidgets with the rings on her fingers as she asks.

“well, ex. it’s not easy to find a baby sitter that actually takes care of my kid these days.” you admit to her. she ponders for a slight moment before speaking up again.

“well, if you’re looking. i’m usually free during the day, i work nights most of the time.” she offers up. she wasn’t really sure why. she wasn’t even a fan of kids.

“really?!” it looks like your eyes had bulged out of your head. “god that would be amazing! i’ll pay you!”

ellie didn’t hear anything besides ‘i’ll pay you’ that’s all she needed to know.

“yeah of course. i’ll take him.” she confirmed.

that night ellie left with your phone number and a smidge of hope in her heart.

[esotericangelgirl]

𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤! ᯓᡣ𐭩

𐙚⋆°. pairing: gojo x reader 𐙚⋆°. summary: in which satoru gojo, college playboy extraordinaire, is an insufferable, selfish, flaky manwhore who can’t commit but he’s the best kisser you’ve ever met, rich as hell, makes you laugh until your ribs hurt, and even flew you to the south of france as an apology that one time. you hate his guts for breaking your heart time and time again, but he’s just so cute, isn’t he? and he’s definitely not 6’2! (dude, nice try.)

small teaser of my gojo x reader...... perhaps this will motivate me to finish it also this is my first time writing anything like this please be nice thank u ☆૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა

“he’s so fucking corny,” you seethe. shoko gives you a pointed look and arches a perfect brow as she takes the phone from your hand, squinting to look at the boomerang of two red cups clinking together while doses and mimosas plays in the background. “a boomerang at his big age!”

shoko sighs and hands the phone back to you. “it’s not like you’re any better. you’re viewing his story from a fucking burner,” she notes, tapping on the default instagram profile picture in the corner of your screen.

you flop back onto your bed and sigh deeply. shoko gives you another stare then shakes her head softly, putting her cigarette out on your windowsill. you appreciate how tact she’s been through the whole ordeal, though. the slight teasing over your pathetic burner that even geto has noticed and definitely knows is you (he probably won’t tell gojo though, he’s the kinder of the duo, and besides, it’s not like gojo could get his head out of his ass long enough to put two and two together) is better than her bringing up how you’ve secretly cried into your pillow every night and continuously fail to make it any less obvious.

you shut your phone off after the next tap, hot tears threatening to fall for the millionth time when you see a picture of gojo, blue eyes blown wide from the alcohol and thousand-watt smile blinding the camera, with his arm casually slung around a pretty blonde in a low cut top. whatever, you think, fucking cunt. you stare at the ceiling, furiously trying to blink the tears away, as you remember that same beautiful smile, pointed at you after long nights tangled in his egyptian cotton sheets. nights where you’d poke at his dimple, when he’d playfully bite your finger after the third time reaching for his cheek, and begin to slowly kiss up your arm, gorgeous cerulean eyes shining with-

ugh. shoko glances at you knowingly, as if she can read your mind. “we need to get you a hobby or something. maybe knitting?” she laughs at her own stupid joke as you glare at her, reaching for your laptop as if that’ll convince you to drag yourself out of bed and finish that psychology paper due tonight.

you open your laptop and are greeted with the sight of the crudely written beginning of a love? like letter you started last night while drunk off of cheap soju addressed to none other than satoru gojo.

shoko stands up to peer over your shoulder, “hey, let me see how you cited the dsm-5 in text-“ and her eyes comically widen when she sees what’s written on your screen. she begins to laugh even harder. “dude, that is like, so fucking gay! tell me you’re not going to send that and will be deleting it immediately to replace with something that will actually contribute to society or whatever.”

you slam the laptop shut, cheeks burning red. “isn’t it supposed to be like romantic or something? i bet none of the other girls he’s been with have never even thought to do something like this for him.” you cringe as soon as the words exit your mouth. it is really gay, you realize.

still giggling, shoko replies, “and for good reason.” she takes a deep breath to compose herself. “look, you’re not lesbian lovers in the 18th century. in fact, i think that would be a thousand times less sad than …. whatever the hell this is.”

the “whatever the hell this is” in question is your strange, twisted relationship (situationship?) with infamous playboy satoru gojo. the 21 year old heir to one of the largest fortunes in japan was constantly plastered on various tabloids featuring suggestive pictures with leggy models, rumors of a nasty cocaine addiction (which he denies; gojo’s definitely too much of a baby to consider snorting something. the man can’t even take a straight shot, for god’s sake), and accusations he only got into the prestigious jujutsu tech because of his father’s money. he didn’t, you later found out; satoru was frustratiatingly smart without trying while you constantly pulled all-nighters to keep your grades up.

“come back to beddddd,” satoru whines with outstretched arms and grabby hands. “professor yaga’s midterm is so easy! i took his class last year and got an A without studying once. anyone with half a brain could do it.”

he flashes you a cocky smile and you roll your eyes. “that’s because you’re good at everything. so unfair. not everyone was blessed with your ‘superior intellect.’” you add air quotes to the last words of your sentence to further emphasize your point.

you playfully move to toss a pillow at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into his lap. “come on, you’re one of the smartest girls i know. i believe in you,” he says softly, playing gently with your fingers.

“you know other women?” you deadpan, cocking an eyebrow.

“of course not, you’re the only one for me baby,” he winks.

liar. of course. absolute fucking liar. satoru gojo would flirt with anything with a pulse. he’d give that same cocky wink to baristas, class partners, and the stuck-up sorority girls that flocked to him at geto’s frat parties. ironic, considering he always claimed he was above them when the two of you were alone.

“i’m way too good for those things,” he’d note, messing with his impeccably styled white hair in the custom mirror imported from sweden. “i only ever go to them for suguru’s sake. bottle service at the box is where it’s at.”

“yeah, right,” you scoff. “you’re so full of yourself. you love all the attention you get there, don’t you? our campus celebrity.”

he turns around to look at you, pouting. “never! i’m so humble and down to earth, more like jujutsu tech’s own version of jesus.”

you both burst into laughter. you like the way he can keep up with you, the banter, and the teasing lilt of his voice when you joke with him.

“you coming tonight?”

“i don’t think so, you know it’s not my scene either.”

“your loss,” he sighs, picking up his phone. “i’m gonna head out in a bit; i’ll walk you to your dorm?”

he does and you convince yourself that you really are the only girl for him. that he’ll man up one of these days and formally ask you to be his girlfriend. he’ll ditch the frat parties and the clubs and finally just be yours. the way the two of you pretend in the sanctuary of his penthouse. you see him in the back of one of suguru’s stories that night, dancing (grinding, more like) with a redhead in a dress that leaves little to the imagination. you pretend you didn’t when he texts you “u up?” hours later.

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

The pastor’s daughter

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: internalised homophobia, religious trauma, self hate,cliffhanger, angst, sad lesbians, let me know if I left anything out

Note: it doesn’t include dialogue

I wish I could say I met you that one Sunday at church, maybe you were the pastor’s daughter a pew ahead. Then I could say it was the cross around your neck that snuggled gently above your breasts. It was that cross which became your most memorable feature the thing to catch my eye first.

If only I had met Emily at church, maybe I was singing choir and our eyes met as she sung so sweetly. I could save her smile to my memory, shake off this feeling I’ll convince myself she was the pastor’s daughter.

I was dirty..

I wish I could be cliche,

And swallow the pill of religion something along the lines of man shall not lie with man or whatever those bible studies teach us. But it wasn’t the truth at all, I didn’t meet Emily Prentiss at church like I wish I had.

I never saw the cross hanging around her neck, I never saw her a pew ahead of me and I never saw her from where I stood in the choir. I never saw her dressed in her Sunday best with her hair tied back as she twirled in a beautiful dress. The pastor never knew Emily at all like I liked to believe, no nothing was the same.

I had met her on a Saturday yes, she sat off to the side in the old coffee shop on fourth Street. Her nose stuck in a book whose title I cared less about, her hands stood out to me before I had seen her face. She had rings layered on each finger lost between the pages that had been her most memorable feature.

And soon coffee had become our thing..

I wish it hadn’t, I wish I had never stepped foot in that coffee store at all so the pill of truth hurt less to swallow. How pathetic to look back on every spare moment scrapped up that I could afford blindly given out. I had saved them for you now I wish I hadn’t, you told me many things and I believed you.

You never mentioned being kicked out of the church but you told me, heaven was anywhere with me. If only you said you lie more than you told the truth, I was sick and in a month I was in your small apartment.

It was easy and I was naive with only myself to blame, we sat in your living room our knees touching gently as you laughed so sweetly.

A laugh so soft it felt like a sirens call..

But in the low glow of your tv I knew you saw through me and I wasn’t afraid not when I was with you. I wasn’t scared but I wish I had been so then maybe I would’ve been saved- treaded carefully.

I remember when I had finally woken up after all those weeks of dreaming, you had woken me up. When your hand touched my thigh and I kissed your neck after I had your lips on my own moments before. Your hand already down my blue jeans past the material of my panties feeling my warmth. Then you pushed me away “it wasn’t who you were” I wasn’t what you wanted. I wish there could’ve been an excuse but you no longer had religion- nothing to believe in.

So in my head we met at church..

I ignored the cross on your neck and the fact you were the pastor’s daughter, I didn’t meet your eyes as I sung the choir. I ignored how soft your hair was as you sat in the pew ahead of me with your mother.

But then I had moved on, confessed my sins and left I tried to drink my shame swallow the pill of hurt. Find a nice boy who could cure me of all that was wrong but nothing stopped the feeling.

Until I saw you again all those years later..

[dr-spectre]

Okay so this rant is gonna be mildly nsfw. So if you are a minor DONT LOOK! OKAY?! GET OUT! I DONT WANT MINORS TO LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!!! THIS IS FOR 18+ ONLY!

Im gonna be talking about an issue when it comes to a subset of people in the Splatoon community. So yeah, MINORS! LEAVE!!!!!

Go on... leave....

Imma be real, a fair amount of the straight male fans in the Splatoon community who constantly sexualise all the women in the series need to realize that characters like Marina and Shiver would never get with you and you wouldn't be able to handle them either. You would not be able to handle Marina's hour long autistic rambles about excavators and machinery, and if you judged her for her interests because your pp is getting soft listening to her, she would despise you and not have sex with a random dude like you. She is not eye candy. She is not some slab of meat to go "AWOOOGGA HUMNA HUMNA HUMNA!" at. She's a dorky girl who has nerdy interests and is canonically a lesbian, not some bimbo to get looked at like a toy for your eyeballs. Sorry to burst your bubble.

You would probably HATE Shiver if you met her, i guarantee it. Marie as well, you would probably find her annoying and not vibe with her snarky personality despite you wanting to do bad things to her because you only see her as flesh for your pleasure. Marie hates and makes fun of ""fans"" like you. Sorry to tell ya. If you see Marie as some dommy mommy then I'm gonna have to ask you to get the fuck out of my sight dude. If you sexualise Callie too and make her some weird lustful woman who wants sex all the time, I will fucking murder you idc.

You would crumble to dust and get rejected SOOOOO fast by women who look and act like them. I'm telling you. Or they would run away from you so fast because you smell terrible.

Start thinking with your head and not the small head downstairs.

Listen, we get it, they are attractive, but don't make it your whole personality and say how much you wanna f them and use nsfw art of them in thumbnails and discussions (you can figure out which youtuber I'm talking about here...)

I say that stuff as a joke at 1am at night and 99.9% of the time i talk about how wonderful their personalities and stories are. I ain't going "ZAMN!!!" over these characters because I'm not THAT big of a loser.

Marina being so passionate and giddy about her interests is one of the reasons why i like her so much. Marie being so relatable is why i like her, Shiver being such a silly girlfailure who's funny is why i like her, not because of their hips ffs. That's like the last thing on my mind when i think about these amazing characters.

As a straight male myself, you guys gotta do better, i don't wanna be grouped up with the rest of you horny lot that needs some fresh air. I'm not talking about all heterosexual men in the fanbase obviously, i'm not that kind of person where i hate on an entire group of people and I go "those friggen straights ruined the series!!!" Like the people who say that are half true but not every straight guy in the community is a horny lustful mess you know? And i am a straight guy myself but... I hate getting piled up with the creepy fans who lust over these women. Like we don't wanna hear you thirst over them and if you are gonna say something a bit more nsfw AT LEAST BE CREATIVE WITH IT! OR BE REALLY PATHETIC ABOUT IT TO WHERE IT'S FUNNY!

It's also so telling on how you probably treat women as well. I wouldn't be surprised if you have never been close to a woman, friendship or relationship wise. Sex and looks ain't all the end all be all of relationships, if you can't understand that then good luck finding a girl who will actually like you and even think about doing it with you.

I've never been in a relationship before AND EVEN I KNOW THAT!!!!! HOW SAD IS THAT?! The single and alone dude understands relationships better than you.

Be better and go outside for a change. Get a hobby, or something idfk.

[somethingvicked]

X-rated Education

a Tom Grant (Make up 2019) x FemReader story.

(warnings - swearing, some derogative labels, mentions of sex, sexual teasing)

Prologue

It was the first time in several weeks that Tom had given in and followed Kai and the other guys out to the local pub.

He had felt completely lost since Ruth left, ashamed and not in the mood for the other’s pitying looks or the (what he assumed) judgmental whispers behind his back.

”Tommy boy is so bad at pleasing women that his girlfriend turned dyke!”

That didn’t do wonder for a guys ego.

Tonight Kai had all but dragged him by his neck away from his trailer though, saying that the best way to get over a birdie was to bed another one.

But Tom didn’t even know how to begin? What if he truly was so bad in bed that Ruth turned gay?!

Deep down he knew it didn’t work like that but still his mind wouldn’t shut up about it.

After they had arrived to the pub and gotten seated at a booth Kai suddenly stood up and waved. ”I’ll be damned, there’s Y/N,” he said, gesturing for the woman to come over to them.

”Friend of yours?” one of the guys wondered.

”More like the daughter of my mom’s best friend, but we get along well. Tried to score with her a few times but she’s just never interested,” Kai told them, making Y/N hear the last part and she snorted as she sat down, in between Tom and Kai.

”Trust me, Kai, I’m not the only girl that thinks that way,” she told him with a smirk, making him give her a friendly shove before he introduced everyone.

Tom felt himself blush when Y/N shook his hand. She was a very pretty girl with y/c hair and y/c eyes and a sweet but alluring scent of perfume emanating from her. It was the first time he had felt anything else but sadness and betrayal since Ruth left.

Since the other guys soon turned to drinking games, pool or tossing dart only Y/N and Tom were left at the table. He felt himself tongue tied, like he couldn’t even talk to a girl these days but Y/N took the lead herself, asking if he worked with Kai liked the others, how he liked the work and then told him a little about her own life, that for the time being she was working at the coffee shop in town, taking a gap year before deciding if she wanted to go to the university or do something else. He also found out that she was actually older than him, not by much – merely three years, but it was a surprise. Somehow that made her even more alluring in his eyes, but that also made him more insecure of himself and his predicament.

Y/N was clearly a strong, confident woman. Beside her he appeared even more of a pathetic failure that made girls lesbians.

Y/N then asked if she made him feel uncomfortable – since he didn’t speak much. Tom assured her that wasn’t the case, once again feeling his cheeks heat up. ”I’m just... well, I guess I’m just shy around you,” he told her, chuckling awkwardly.

”How so?” Y/N wondered, her eyes wide, clearly not seeing her own allure.

”Well... I recently got out of a very long relationship and I suppose I don’t know how to be around girls now... being single,” he tried to explain.

Strangely enough it seemed like she understood.

”Oh. So it’s in that awkward phase when you haven’t really grasped the fact that now you are just a ’me’ not a ’we’?”

”Exactly!” Tom agreed. ”But it’s... more than that. She... she cheated on me. And... I don’t know, we’d been together for four years and she never gave any... that she was unhappy. And then all of a sudden she was with someone else.”

And that someone else had been a woman. He didn’t say that though.

”Wow,” Y/N exhaled. ”I’m so sorry. That must be tough.” Then she frowned as she seemed to think about something. ”Wait... four years, you said? And you are... what? 19?”

”20,” Tom replied.

”Was she... was she your first girlfriend? The only one you’ve been with?” Y/N poked, a sympathetic look on her face.

Tom looked down on the floor, once again feeling that shame. ”Yeah,” he admitted.

”Oh my,” Y/N exclaimed, ”then I can understand you’re heartbroken. First love and one that you’ve been with such a long time...”

She placed her hand on his, squeezing it. He felt his heart skip a beat. She comforted him. She didn’t make fun of him, she understood!

Maybe that was why he finally told her everything or maybe it was the booze – how he felt so insecure about his ability to please a girl now, that he was questioning everything he had ever thought he knew, even the limited amount of experience he had. He was a guy with an internet connection, of course he knew there was more to sex than what he and Ruth had been up to. Problem was that they never really experimented, she never seemed to want to – or want him, for that matter. To her it was just something they did because they were supposed to. Kind of like the weekly laundry. And now he just felt he was so hopelessly left behind he wouldn’t know where to begin.

Y/N pursed her lips. What she suggested thereafter might also had been because of the booze but she found Tom so sweet and wanted to help him.

”Hey... what would you say if... I taught you?” she asked carefully, ”I’m currently single and I think I know enough of what makes women tick in the bedroom.”

Tom suddenly had a hard time breathing. ”W-what? You’d do that?”

”Sure,” she giggled, ”you’re cute and... it’s kind of hot that I get to be the one to... corrupt you. We can call this... X-rated education. Or SEX-rated education, if you want.”

Tom would lie if he didn’t admit his cock twitched in his jeans at that.

”O-okay,” he said, not really believing what was happening. Then he decided to simply go for it. ”C-could we... start tonight?”

She giggled. ”Eager are we? Me likey! Of course we can start tonight. If you think you can still... preform with all the booze we’ve had.”

Tom gave an adorable little snort. ”I don’t think that will be a problem, love.”

tag list: @ficsbypix @melodymunson @eddie-is-a-god

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapter)

like, comment, reblog!

[satansapostle6]

The Best of the Worst | Charlie Kelly

Charlie Kelly noticed the pretty blonde girl just as Dennis Reynolds tried to make her into another one of his conquests.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Part One: Charlie Makes a Friend

“What’s your name?”

“Juliette.”

“Well, Juliette, I must say, you are quite eye-catching. Do you model?”

“Uh, no,” the blonde smiled, “I don’t.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” Dennis Reynolds asked her.

“Not really…”

Juliette couldn’t figure out in what way exactly, but she found Dennis extremely off-putting. He was friendly, but only in the way that serial killers were friendly, saying all the right words and smiling and blinking at the proper intervals to be considered attractive and trustworthy to the human eye.

Juliette was grimacing beneath her polite smile, and Charlie could see it from across the restaurant. He, Dennis, and Mac had decided to eat out at Guigino’s, the fancy Italian restaurant, that Monday afternoon. And when Dennis saw the pretty blonde waitress, he decided he had to have her. Luckily, Charlie swooped in as he came back from the bathroom, or at least tried to.

“Hey, guys!” Charlie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he stood beside his friend, trying to distract from him.

“Hi,” Juliette smiled, a bit confused by the situation now. “Can I get you anything…?”

“Uh, no, no,” Charlie shook his head, trying to appear sophisticated despite the fact that his T-shirt had holes in it that weren’t there when he first got it. “My compliments to the chef on his parmesan!”

“Uh… Okay,” Juliette nodded, glad to at least be off of whatever topic Dennis had decided on.

“Hey, guys!” Mac suddenly appeared between Dennis and Charlie, feeling left out. “Are we all talking?”

“No! …God damn it, Charlie…” Dennis muttered in his breath, somewhat subtly glaring at his friend as he turned to face him, “You don’t even compliment a chef on their parmesan, it’s cheese, you don’t have to make the cheese, it goes on a dish! You can compliment the dish that it goes on, but you don’t compliment the goddamn parmesan…”

“Do you guys need anything?” Juliette interjected uncomfortably, feeling as if she were waiting on an old married couple. “‘Cuz if you don’t, I kinda have my own customers to serve…”

“Yeah, actually,” Dennis smiled, turning his attention back to her as his blue eyes filled with hope, “Your phone number?”

Juliette stared blankly, batting her eyelashes as she failed to hide how flabbergasted she was. “N-No,” she murmured, in awe that he couldn’t pick up on the fact that she wasn’t interested at all.

“A-Are you sure?” Dennis stammered, offended by her rejection. “Because, if I may be frank, a man like me knows exactly what to do with cans like yours—”

They all watched as Juliette stormed off, no longer interacting with him under the false pretenses of polite customer service. She walked away shaking her head and muttering something under her breath, leaving Dennis to awkwardly stare at the floor as Charlie and Mac both turned to look at him.

“Dennis, that was pathetic,” Charlie scoffed.

“No it wasn’t,” Dennis snapped, “Shut up Charlie, you can’t even spell ‘pathetic’.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” Charlie agreed, “Which makes it even sadder that even I know she totally rejected you.”

“No, she didn’t,” Dennis sighed.

“Oh, she totally did, bro,” Mac insisted.

“Oh come on, the two of you know nothing about women!” Dennis exclaimed impatiently. “She was probably a lesbian…”

“I don’t think she was a lesbian, dude,” Charlie remarked.

“She totally was,” Dennis insisted as he sat down, the other two automatically following suit.

Throughout the rest of their lunch together, Charlie couldn’t help but think about Juliette, the girl Dennis has treated like another thing on the menu to be ordered over and tried. He felt strangely sad, seeing the awkward look on her face as she tried to fake her way through her unpleasant interaction with Dennis.

Charlie knew he definitely wasn’t as suave, or as handsome, or as clean as Dennis Reynolds, but he knew that if he’d gotten the chance to talk to Juliette first, he at least would’ve been a lot nicer to her than Dennis was. He liked to think that if he could, he would’ve asked Juliette questions about herself, like how she felt about ghouls, or what color of jelly bean was her favorite, or if she liked cats.

The thought was on Charlie’s mind up until Dennis payed their bill with his father’s card, and so he decided to head back to the door to the kitchens by the bathroom.

“Uh, excuse me?” Charlie asked nervously, seeing a busboy coming out.

“Yeah?” the younger guy asked.

“Do you know where Juliette is?” Charlie asked him.

“Uh, I think she’s out back taking a smoke break,” he offered.

“Okay. Out back. Okay, thanks,” Charlie nodded, rushing out towards the front door before Mac and Dennis could notice.

He headed toward the back alley of the Philadelphia restaurant, familiar with the place. Sure enough, he found the beautiful blonde girl leaning up against the brick wall, smoking something that could only be described as harsh even for a cigarette. Charlie approached her shyly with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, gently clearing his throat.

Juliette looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

“What do you want?” she asked quietly.

Considering how Dennis had spoken to her, Charlie found that she was extremely polite. He noticed she looked kind of like a businesswoman, in her black work pants and white button-down shirt.

“Look, I’m not like Dennis, okay, that guy’s a total dick,” Charlie said frankly, “I don’t wanna bother you or anything. I just wanted to say ‘sorry’,” he offered her an olive branch.

Juliette studied him for a moment, taking a long, contemplative puff from her cigarette before tapping the ash off.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Charlie nodded, glad she seemed receptive.

“I, uh… I love Dennis and all, I guess, but I think he’s really mean to those nice, pretty girls he talks to,” Charlie spoke candidly, rambling on without a filter. “I don’t get it. Like, why be mean to anybody, but being mean to nice, pretty girls is just crazy. Being mean to you is crazy. You’re so pretty, and you seem nice, and all…”

He trailed off into silence as he looked down at the ground, moving in awkward directions with his hands in his pockets like a child unable to stand still.

“Thank you,” Juliette smiled, with a different tone from before.

“You’re welcome,” Charlie said finally, feeling accomplished as he realized he’d said something that she appreciated. “Can I have one?” he asked after a brief pause.

Juliette looked down and realized he was asking for a cigarette.

“Yeah. Sure,” she nodded quickly, opening the red pack for him. “What was your name?”

“Uh, Charlie!” he said quickly, taking a second to remember his own name.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” she said calmly, sympathizing with his nervousness.

“Nice… to meet you, too,” he remarked, unable to remember the last time someone had said that to him.

He pulled a 100 from the box and allowed her to light it for him as he put it in his mouth. She watched him cough as he just barely started to inhale, pulling the cigarette from his mouth for a moment.

“Reds aren’t your usual?” she gathered.

Charlie coughed as he looked at her with watery eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t like cigarettes,” he confessed. “I just wanted to feel, like, what you feel all the time, you know?”

-

Chapter Two

[siffrin-enthusiast]

i dont actually know what happens in iwtv (s1, ep..4? 5? is what i'm on) but here's what i've loosely amalgamated of the plot based off of tumblr shitposts

lestat and louis divorce

a big Something (TM) happens to claudia (and by Something i mean Dying) (get it because she Dies) (i think)

lestat's piercing blue eyes are a genuine plot point

armand/daniel is a ship? but also armand/louis? but also lestat/louis? but also louis/daniel?

lestat dollar store david bowie arc

there's a lesbian that's cooler than all of them but armand kills her

armand is actually the Big Bad but he looks so pathetic meowmeow babygirl that, like, nobody actually believes it

theres ONE cool guy armand dates who's name i don't know but i think he dies or smth. sad!

lestat and louis divorce (again)

[fic-heaven]

Pretty lies. (John Price x reader)

Nsfw / heavy angst/ cheating/ questioning one's sexuality/ friends to lovers/ alcohol/ mentions of abuse.

-Imagine having so much chemistry with one person... But he has a girlfriend and you are a lesbian woman. Life has given you plenty of chances to take one more step in your friendship with John Price and you two seemed to enjoy toying between the line of friendship and what seemed to be unreachable. Will you succumb yourselves to the desire you clearly harbour for each other breaking the limitations of your sexuality and his relationship with none other than one of your friends? Let's find out uwu

🐥 Finally: Price 🎉

.

The day your friend's friend Martha told you to unwind after breaking up with your girl, you reluctantly decided to follow her advice.

Martha Swanson was this loud, nosey girl that one of your friends presented as a new addition to your large group and hit it off with all the boys suspiciously fast. Easing up to her was hard, as much as your friends used to brag about you being the chillest, most patient and easy going out the whole pack of you, Martha tested your reputation and this breakup with your girlfriend was making you more irritable with any witty line she shot your way, so instead of hanging out with your group you decided to avoid them all for a while needing some time for yourself. But as soon as Martha caught wind of this, she wouldn't leave you alone sending you multiple dating apps and offering you to hook up with her girl friends as if being single was worse than a death sentence and her kind soul wanted to spare you from it. Ridiculous.

Fast-forward to this morning, Martha had sent you this long-ass text you actually appreciated. And it was this particular motivational text that made you leave your bed, take a quick shower, dress like a porn star and leave your cave of an apartment after kissing your ex's cat goodbye. (who she left for you to care since she didn't want him anymore.) the old orange cat growled in discomfort and it only urged you to kiss his fluffy forehead further leaving a red lipstick stain.

The loud music inside every local you passed by made you flex your fingers around the strap of your handbag in anticipation. A little while later, your eyes landed on a small pub in between two larger ones with neon lights adorning it's name "Puss n' boots." Your heels carried you inside mindlessly.

"Yeah, there's gotta be lesbians in 'ere." You instantly thought. So why not listen to bitchy Martha for once and see if we can fish some pussy? You were tired of crying yourself to sleep because of your cold-hearted ex... It's time to move on.

At least that was the main idea, there were lots of beauties in this pub and you already caught some eyes, sadly they were all men's or some jealous hag's. By your lack of taste and terrible luck with men you weren't going to indulge none of them and the old hags weren't your thing either. You waited for half an hour to see if you had any luck catching any girl's attention, sadly the more glasses you drank the clearer it was that tonight wasn't going to be your night and you didn't have the energy to leave as the pretty ladies that matched your taste were either entertaining some men or invested in whatever conversation they were having with their groups. Maybe you should have stayed home or searched for actual gay bars... You're sure you look fucking pathetic drinking sad and lonely, and more painted than a bloody door.

Fuck, you wouldn't have been doing this if Lisa (you ex) stayed faithful instead of fucking that new secretary of hers and being dumb enough to show off her affair to your mutual friends.

Were you really that easy to replace? Great. Now you are feeling unattractive in your most attractive outfit just thinking about all this mess.

With a huff you crossed your legs on the stool, practically giving up with a sigh, one hand massaged your temple and the other lift to order one more glass of whiskey. To your dismay, it was a raspy, tabaco-burned voice who ordered it for you.

"Leave the bottle. Missy's got a rough night."

You blinked your tears away before turning around and seeing this good-for-nothing bald guy with a few missing teeth and a sinister aura. You couldn't help but chuckle and your chuckle soon turned into a loud crackle until you were covering your mouth and letting out a few tears feeling nothing but amusement and frustration that you went from having this beautiful goddess of a girlfriend to attracting a bald, smelly man clearly wanting to fuck you and probably rob you afterwards, you no longer gave a fuck that you looked absolutely nuts laughing on his face for no apparent reason. But fuck. How fast can your life turn around and leave you drunk on your sexiest outfit, single because you got cheated on, and the only person who wanted to fuck you was this stupid man with nothing but bad intentions and a terrible case of halitosis?

"What's got you laughing, bitch?" He spat taking a step back and sparing you from having to smell him further.

"For a man so full of yourself who claims to see through me so easily... You are quite jumpy."

The bartender came back with the bottle carrying an uneasy look, you swiftly took the bill the drunken trashcan of a man had readied, paid for the bottle and shot a wink to the nervous barman. "Keep the change, luv."

"You bitch-" Just as you moved from the stool the bald guy launched your way and the barman rushed to aid you, but another man jumped in ready to save you from the hairy arms of the goblin. This guy seemed cleaner and more sober, with much more hair on his head and a stunning beard with the most beautiful cristal blue eyes you have ever seen. They did remind you of your ex girlfriend's and suddenly the scare of the guy jumping to you lessened as the painful memory of your break-up clouded your turbulent mind once again.

Mr. Stunning Beard tackled the cursing baldie with his strong arms, you didn't waste a second delivering him a harsh punch to the mouth that surely broke some of the few teeth he had left. Your reflexes were still intact as you snatched the whiskey bottle from the counter before the now bleeding asshole could break it with the useless kicks he was giving to every piece of furniture he reached.

"Aye, Price! Kick the bastard out, he gave us enough headaches for a lifetime..." Ordered the bartender, lanky legs carried him elsewhere to open the back door that led to an alley behind the pub.

"No need to ask, Hugh." Replied the pretty guy whose name was Price. "I'll be right back." He grunted your way trying to keep still the scum he had trapped, you shrugged indifferent.

The people from the pub didn't seem scandalized at all, they actually seemed relieved. Apparently from what you heard from the cute girls near the table you had picked, this guy was a homeless man who came to this pub every time he had enough cash to do exactly what you already knew he'd do to you. Pick a sad girl, fuck and rob her and return a few weeks later. This was one of the few pubs that still allowed him the entry, and I say was because as soon as you served yourself another glass from the bottle the guy practically gifted you, the barman walked to your booth, told you to pick whatever you wanted on the house and assured you that the bald asshole was banned for life. You politely smiled and thanked him with a sickenly sweet smile assuring him you were used to this and thanked him for everything.

Truth is, you weren't used to this at all. You were never a pub girl, your girl didn't like pubs so you never had the chance to indulge in... Drinks, sweat, loud crappy music and drunken guys trying to hit on you when you were just trying to hit on their girlfriends. So you were slightly shaken, but it was nothing alcohol couldn't fix.

Baffled, you laughed to yourself seeing how your manicured hand remained intact even after the harsh punch you delivered earlier, though your laughter died as soon as Price came back cleaning the invisible dust from his casual wear. His blue eyes scanned the whole place until they landed on your spot near one of the front windows. You gave him a lazy drunken smile and a small wave he returned with a smirk walking closer, he sat on the opposite booth and frankly you thanked him for it. You could use the stranger's company so long as it wasn't for something sexual. You were no longer in the mood.

"Nice save, Price guy." You purred when he sat down with a huff.

"Nice punch, eh..." He replied squinting.

"(Y/n). I don't know what you were aiming to do here but I'm not interested in-"

"No worries." He quickly said picking up on what you meant "Actually, I came here because I was wondering if you were kind enough to split the bottle." Price said pointing at the whiskey bottle with a meaty finger, that earned him your first sincere smile.

"Fuck It, why not? It'd be fair after you kicked sir Alitosis' ass in my name." You chirped calling the bartender to bring another glass.

In your opinion, there were three types of drunks: angry drunks, sad drunks and fun drunks. You didn't want to be a sad drunk and make a fool of yourself in front of your new buddy, so you decided to let go of your troubles and simply try to enjoy the rest of the night with new friendly company. Besides, this man seems... Oddly polite.

"I did everyone a favour. Bastard scared away enough girls t'night." Price grunted waving a hand lazily as if speaking about the weather.

"Did he mess up your hunt, big guy? Were you craving to take anyone home tonight?" You asked as a final clarification because honestly, when did a guy, who clearly didn't know you were into girls, sit with you when you were at your most miserable and sexiest without holding any weird intentions?

Price gave you this tight smile and a quick shake taking you by surprise "Nah I honestly just wanted a drink." He said it so tiredly, like he had a long week, maybe he had problems at home or simply hated his job and wanted to drown the discomfort with alcohol or perhaps he had the same issue as you. Romance trouble. He is handsome to be single.

With all the courage alcohol gave you, your mouth spoke before you could even process it.

"Girl trouble?"

"Mm. One of many troubles, I'm afraid."

It's as if you drunken minds had synchronized. Promptly, the desire to hit it off with any women here or spend a second alone reminiscing on a time when things felt "right" died in both your minds, suddenly finding peace and contentment on each other's presence deciding that maybe, this wasn't going to be another shitty night after all, as some friendship could be born from this unfortunate encounter with that scum.

As if nothing had happened, you two begun bantering about anything and everything until the pub closed, exchanged numbers and after four more outings together on that same pub, sleepless nights talking from the phone and random nightly adventures without alcohol in your systems in the quiet streets of London, you two became very good friends, best friends, you dare say.

So it didn't come as a surprise when in one particular outing, Price no longer allowed you to call him by his last name but you were so used to doing so you kept calling him that way and it became fun tease.

"It's John, sweetheart. How many times do I have t' remind ya?"

"I'm sorry it's just weird for me to call ya John when I've known you as Price for a whole month!" You wined, opening the Malboro cigarettes you just bought.

"I'll forgive you, but just this once." John chuckled lighting up your cigar and covering the amber with his palm so the chilly air of the night wouldn't extinguish the flame. You two were leaning very close but with all the trust you both shared in you friendship didn't make it feel awkward or heated. At the eyes of any passer-by, you two were very close friends who tiptoed between the line of friendship and romance, an "obvious" sexual tension radiated from you as Price's heavy arm surrounded your waist pressing your side against his sharing heat and casually glancing at each other's mouths when one of you breathed out the smoke of your cigs during playful, quiet conversations. But the truth was that you two were simply a high ranked officer sharing smoke with his lesbian buddy before you entered your favorite pub for the night. Nothing deeper, nothing intimate. Just two buddies spending quality time with each other.

An yet, he did feel the situation deeper than you. It was the quiet moments you two spent together what made Price sleep better at night. He never straight up told you how much he appreciated having a girl friend other than Laswell and whatever the hell his three-month girlfriend pretended to be at times. Your company always felt refreshing, even if you two had known each other for one single month it felt like you had brought him whatever that was missing on his life, company, a stable friendship without sex in between, self confidence and a break from his mind troubles. With you, John felt wanted, but not in the same way many women had made him feel in the past (including his girlfriend), more like you reciprocated the comfort of his company, deeply content with it even though you haven't seen him naked. As many encounters and other past friendships with women he had in the past, he dreaded the time you'd try to jump on him and he would have to explain to you that he has a girlfriend, but you didn't, and somehow it made John feel... Disappointed?

Os course, don't mistake such disappointment for

The captain found a friend in you he deeply cherished, someone he could have at his doorstep in one single phonecall If he needed a drink or a distraction, someone he could count on every time he wanted to feel a different type of thrill that didn't imply sex or war. More like robbing a bunch of gnomes from a random front yard at two in the fucking morning and running for your lives after getting caught doing it, or like that one time when you two joined a random Batchkorette party in the Puss n' Boots and competed on how many thongs you managed to steal before the night ended, he ended up losing the bet and had to invite you for takeout afterwards. Frankly he'd have done it either way thankful of how hard you made him laugh that night.

Price felt so young and energetic with you, the strict, bloodthirsty captain he thought he was fell dormant in your presence. It was something that thrilled but frightened him as his very own girlfriend, his team and many exes before her, never managed to make him feel such thing. He really felt like he had to thank you, since the night he met you, Price noted an improvement in how his relationship with Martha Swanson affected him. Every little thing she wanted to bicker about he endured better, every time she spent trying to dry his wallet or flirt with his men he simply stopped caring as he felt all the more eager to hang out with you and forget about his tedious job and awful girlfriend, at the same time, Martha noted his nonchalance and to his surprise, she begun slightly behaving better.

But going back to you two, how could he express his gratitude? Would words work? You never really shared very deep conversations other than one time when you were so drunk out your mind you told Price about your last break-up (without specifying the gender of your partner.) he comforted you however he could afterwards, but because he was also so drunk after the drinking competition you two had, the captain could do nothing but pat your back and gargle out soft-spoken comforts while throwing up in a dumpster near a bus stop when you two were retiring for the night. What a sight you two made. One puking his soul out while comforting the other with tears ruining your mascara.

This time though, it was Price who wanted to open up a bit as you both enjoyed ruining your lungs together before getting wasted and leaving to his friend's house, "Kyle Garrick". John has been planning the perfect outing for a while, and when Gaz mentioned the meteor shower this morning he knew this had to be his chance to take the next step, he only knew you for a month and you two have behaved yourselves well, but there was something at the back of his mind that irked him to nudge your waist with his and give you this mischievous look that made you arch a brow and return it thinking he had something devilish on his mind that you were instantly interested in joining.

"Wanna do somethin' different t'night?" He asked with a boyish eagerness written all over his face at the way you contorted your face.

"Come on, man... You have been bugging me for WEEKS with this plan! Don't ya want me to meet this friend of yours so bad?"

Price steals your cigar quickly before you can protest, places it in between his lips with his own and takes a looooong deep inhale that devours half of the two cigars quickly to your horror. You swiftly take off one heel and threaten to beat him with it as he laughs jogging and dodging your attacks with both cigs still on his mouth running behind a pole teasing you to try and catch him.

"Come on! this will be much more fun! I'll tell Kyle a lie, that your cat died or somethin' and that you chickened at the last minute..."

"Don't you dare fake Raspberry's death for your silly spontaneous plans, Big Price!" Your tongue rolls the sweet nickname you gifted him weeks ago making his chest fill with warmth. Your big Price.

He laughs and spits out both cigs nodding his head to the side as to guide you along taking long strides that forced you to hurry in order not to loose him in the mist of the night.

"Fine, alright... But if you wanna skip the plan tell Kyle now or he'll have your ass later." You sigh nudging his arm to which he chuckled lowly in agreement quickly fishing out his phone to send Gaz a poor, brief excuse to move the plan for the next week.

Price took you further from the park behind your block, bought you some snacks in the nearest gas station before crossing the bridge that led you closer to the city frontiers until you two reached a pitch black part in the middle of a gigantic clearing with a more natural terrain and a bunch of dead trees and bushes, it was hard to see when the only source of light were your phones' flashlights.

"Where the hell are you taking me? Price, I swear if you are up to something-"

He rolls his shoulders trying not to complain about you still calling him by his last name "Come on, who do you think I am? After all the trouble we've been through... Do you really think I'd mess with our friendship, doll?"

The soft, playful reassurance comforted you instantly, but you went puzzled at the light disappointment you felt when he mentioned not messing with you friendship. It was a very strange feeling, as Price's friendship has always felt the the most stable thing in your life even if you've only known each other for a month. So why would you be slightly upset that he was just as pleased with your friendship as you were? You couldn't want more out of him right? And if that was the case... What exactly would it mean to want more? What did "more" imply if you were gay?

Just when you were about to complain about your poor choice of shoe wear for this unexpected expedition to the unknown, a massive brick wall came to view and the moment Price got in one knee and offered you a lift you bursted out laughing nervously.

"What!? Listen, listen, listen, listen-"

"Shoot it, doll."

"One thing, okay? One thing is steal gnomes and thongs and cover my sexist neighbor's car with a thousand pink post-it... But we are not breaking into anyone's property, big P!"

"Exactly. Because this doesn't belong to anyone, it's abandoned. Now quit crying and jump, I promise I'll cover my eyes." He said covering his eyes with his palm referring to the very short dress you were wearing.

You obeyed with a sigh and accepted his lift as you climbed through the brick wall to then sit on the top edge. "For your information, I'm wearing shorts underneath this rags. I may be dumb but I'm not stupid~ I mean, what If someone lifts my dress all of a sudden? Or if I climb a ten foot wall"

The captain instantly thought "You'd give everyone a good view for sure..."

Price gave you an amused smirk at your dramatism when he joined you up the wall to directly launch himself downwards to the other side and help you down. "I'd beat the crap out of whoever had the balls to do that, but I'm sure I wouldn't have to. You are one tough cookie, (Y/n). Haven't met many ladies who can punch the way you do and climb walls wearing high heels." Your soft laughter and thanks hit his heart harder than what was right from a man in a relationship.

Before you two stood an abandoned plaza that seemed to have been used for past music festivals and other kinds of events. It was mostly a big secluded space with a huge stone platform and some furniture and junk laying here and there, multiple graffiti adorned the dull walls, structures and even some areas in the stoney floor, the sea of bright colors made a lot of contrast with the weak reds from the bricks and the greys from the stone and cement.

Price took you to the rocky platform where he lit up a bunch of candles he took from his pocket, a bottle of whiskey sat beautifully illuminated by their soft lights. He wordlessly rushed to place a long towel from his backpack on the floor and you tried your hardest not to cringe and run from how romantic this was looking. You were internally screaming at this whole situation. Please let it NOT be a confession. God this is why you can't have any straight male friends...

Price knew you well and could read your discomfort about how all of this looked. "I heard the meteor shower was t'night, don't get your hopes up, doll." He teased and you almost fainted in relief.

Of course he wasn't going to confess anything! He had a girlfriend for fuck's sake! Not like you knew he was taken... But did you really have to act so relieved? Was he really that unattractive to you?'

"Oh god-..." You sighed fisting the hem of your dress dramatically flopping to the ground confident that the towel would shield your clean hair and favorite dress from the dusty floor. "Oh fuck! That's right, the meteor shower!" That made you sit quickly assessing how Price had decorated your spot. "And you brought Whiskey?" You smirked.

"For the occasion-" He muttered checking the time on his phone. "Only a few minutes left, it's a good thing you know how to walk fast with heels or else we'd have missed it." John really hoped you didn't hear the bitterness of his tone.

You chuckled "Oh fuck you, big Price. You wouldn't stand a minute with these!" You said opening the bottle and giving it a good sip before offering it to John. (You two didn't care about sucking the same bottle)

"Challenge accepted. Remind me in the next outing we plan." His rough hand took the bottle. He fisted the towel below intending to shake off the shiver that ran across his spine when his fingers brushed yours as you handed him the whiskey, you didn't have much luck as you actually did shiver at the contact, which was stupid because... Well you hugged and innocently touched each other before, but it felt different this time... Somehow. A strange wave of uncertainty washed over both of you on your little spot. You blamed your thin clothes for your shiver and he grunted back telling you you should have brought a jacket instead of offering you his, to which you playfully shoved his shoulder and he relented taking another blanket from his bag and shielding both of you from the chilly air.

"Ah shut up! There it is!" You gasped pointing at the sky after giving another long sip to the bottle.

And there it was~

The beautiful night sky erupted in a thousand lights, now more clearer as you two laid down away from the luminosity of the city. Price was quick to blow off the candles to make it better for you to see the beautiful natural display of lights. But just as he lifted his head from the candles he saw the way your face lit in wonder, your marvelled eyes reflecting the meteor shower In such an enchanting way John remained on his sitting position watching the spectacle from the windows of your eyes. He thanked the stars above that you didn't notice him staring, his cheeks were already burning red and he'd be too embarrassed to pretend he wasn't looking. After a few seconds and a long-ass sip Price mirrored your position looking up at the sky with his arms behind his head to accommodate better in the hard surface of the stone floor.

"You are amazing." You breathed and John fluttered his lashes in surprise but remained silent looking up at the million tiny lights across the sky with a small smile he could not contain.

"It's... Cool that you planned all this. You should have told me we were gonna climb a fucking wall, I would have brought my sketchers. Fucking fool." You bit amused.

"Didn't know we'd cancel on Gaz and that you'd show up dressing like Emma Stone in Poor things. It was supposed t'be a surprise, twat." John bit back with the same amusement.

"Thank you, Knob head."

"Y' welcome. Muppet."

You both chuckled like two teenagers at the random curses you exchanged before you continued. "No, but really... Thanks. I've been kinda broody for a long time after my break-up with..." You sighed. Why the hell were you feeling so reluctant on telling Price the name of your ex girlfriend? Why were you so hesitant on telling him you were into women? "With that... Cheater."

John rolled his head a bit to face your profile, eyes fixed on yours. You weren't going to confess right? He wasn't sure why, but he felt unprepared to tell you he had a girlfriend. Specially now with how peaceful, romantic and unforgettable this night was getting.

"You are the best friend I've never had. And every day I feel grateful that I had left my apartment that night and chose that shitty rathole of Puss n' Boots to burn my burdens. Because you were there, big P." Your voice wavered a bit and you hated how utterly fragile you sounded. "You were there and you have remained here, by my side."

Price's ocean eyes were slightly glossy at the sight of you opening up before him. It warmed his heart that you were comfortable enough to speak this way around him not hiding your vulnerability.

"I trust you, John." The words scaped your lips and suddenly you went mute, your eyes roled to his side to meet his intense stare, Price felt mute as well as your throats constricted and your eyes welded tears that ran free soon when you both nervously laughed together.

"You called me John..." He hummed pleased before continuing. "That means the world to me. You know I trust you too, right doll? There's nothing bad, I mean nothing, that I'd ever wish upon you, love. I'm very happy I got to meet you as well..."

Your soft, sincere smile lit his world as you replied curling to his side. "That's why I trust you. And I know you will never break that trust, John."

Out of nowhere you felt a strange wave of anxiety overwhelming you, this was too deep, you couldn't... This wasn't right. You didn't know what triggered such anxiety. The delicious smell of Price's expensive cologne, his body heat, his warm eyes looking at you with so much affection or... The fact that he was a man. Shit.

John felt the need to open up as well, encouraged by the emotional moment. It was his main plan anyways "(Y/n), I..."

"Johnathan-...I'm a lesbian." You abruptly interrupted.

His face went blank, like a husk of the friend you knew, crescent eyes widening slightly. John's words died on his mouth when you revealed your sexuality with a fearful face and after the longest most agonizing pause, he muttered in denial under his breath.

"No, you are not."

______

It's been a week and a half, and his words played in your mind like a broken record. Just what the hell did he mean by that?

You went from mourning you cheating partner to mourning a friendship that lasted one single sad month. That, if your friendship was over which you were seriously considering ending if it wasn't. You never spoke about it with Price. Never had the courage to bring up the topic after that awkward night.

The memory became a constant in your mind, when you showered, when you worked, when you tried to sleep... Price had consumed your thoughts in an unhealthy way.

You could remember it like it was yesterday. How after he said that, you two sat up facing opposite directions with eyes lost. The spectacle above long forgotten. How the only thing you acknowledged from one another was the alcohol being nudged your way. One took a long chug from the bottle and passed it to the other until you finally finished it. Once done, you stood up on wobbly feet stubbornly refusing John's hand. He took the bottle and threw it across the brick wall, the distant crash of the fall (probably against a rock) marked the rupture of your bond.

You both left the place wordlessly when you undid the improvised comfy spot. Price accompanied you to your bus stop even when you told him he didn't have to, he just pursed his lower lip and shrugged hiding his hands on his pockets instead of touching you in any way like he used to.

You felt bitter and confused, sad and frustrated and so did he.

There were many feelings tormenting you during your departure that only seemed to grow louder as Price saw you getting on the bus, checking on your figure when you sat next to a stranger further from the window before he left home lighting a cigar.

You cried in bed that night, and you hated it because it hurted more than when you cried about your ex Lisa. Price on the other hand, invited Martha over to his apartment at three in the morning, fucked her until the memory of your last encounter was slightly fogged by the pleasure of his girlfriend's walls squeezing him just right and collapsed in bed ignoring the hickies she had on her left shoulder, hickies he had never given her.

Martha snored soundly tucked by his side, your beautiful face shone from his phone when Price, for the very first time since he had known you, decided to stalk your Instagram account. Yes, you were into girls, that much was clear as the old captain scrolled through your publications and saw plenty of pictures of you with your friends and who he assumed was your ex girlfriend Lisa. There was one particular selfie that made his numb body feel a pang of ache on his chest, it was of you a few months back hugging your girlfriend's waist with this beautiful smile that momentarily dulled his heartbreak until he saw the short caption underneath the selfie: "Today we make two years together! My best friend, my muse, my goddess, my beautiful girlfriend. No one will ever make me feel as whole as you had made me feel all this time. Forever yours, (Y/n) <3"

Just before turning his phone off, he swiped down to read your bio. Price's brows rose up at the sight of his girlfriend's Instagram on your list of followers.

"Shit..."

______

"What's got you low, bee?" Your friend asked entering the shop where you worked at.

It was almost nine and your boss had given you the thumbs up to leave half an hour earlier because you were feeling like total shit and the night went slow anyway, so your friend Alan took it upon himself to try and drag you out of the shop for a night out with your mutual friends and you didn't have the heart to tell them no because of all the time you spent apart.

"Look at him! You can be sooo puntual when it comes to hangouts, Alan-boo." You replied ignoring the question with a purr turning off the lights and locking the door with Alan following you around like a lost duckling.

"It's been so fucking long, (Y/n)! We miss you! When Martha told us that you went clubbing alone all this time to forget about Lis-"

"Clubbing?" You interrupted the redhead with a calm voice as if to not pay much mind to their worry. "You guys can be so dramatic... I just went to a few bars to fish up some gals~!" You said in a sing-song tone.

"Any luck?" Alan pushed guiding you to his car. You gave him a dramatic huff of fake (or not so fake) frustration in replay and he laughed.

Thankfully, during the ride to the bar where they had chosen to meet up, you both didn't comment much more about your nocturnal whereabouts during your "self exile" from the group. The memory of Price was like a punch to the gut you were not in the mood to suffer. At least not for tonight.

The Goblin King was a bar some of your friends frequented every Wednesday night to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement since the owner was one of your friends' dad, it was funny how no matter how old they've gotten, they still held such deep love for a game they played together as teenagers. Though, tonight was different because most of the people from your group didn't like it, so they agreed to leave table games behind and enjoy drinks with Martha's new boyfriend. You laughed when Alan deflated saying she had organized this meeting only to try and incorporate her new love interest to the group even when she was giving him and (apparently) other male friends mixed signals. You couldn't deny you were feeling curious about who in their right mind would seriously date this woman.

Imagine your surprise when you approached the crowdy wooden table, while your friends greeted and playfully picked on you for disappearing all this time, and you found a pair of tired blue eyes above a magnificent beard staring at you from the other side of the table. Price and you locked gazes, hiding the shock and trying to play it off stretching hands with a quick greet. He was dressed casually and yet it didn't dull his handsomeness one bit.

So she's Martha's so called "rainbow friend"...

So he's Martha's new boyfriend...

"Oh my god (Y/n). You wench!" Martha's sudden call from the bar startled you and you swore you'd vomit from the sudden scare she gave you mixed with the anxiety of having Price looking at you with those baby blue puppy eyes again. Does she know what happened? Did Price mention something about...

"If only I've known you'd be pulling that killer outfit I would have hidden my boyfriend, haha!" She joked sitting on Price's lap making the guys (and you) look away uncomfortable. Price noticed this and tensed up, blinking rapidly for a second parting his lips ready to change the subject. You were still wearing your work uniform which the only thing that could kill was a boner, and suddenly you were feeling insecure. Fucking awesome, thanks Martha.

"First of all don't call me wench, dear. We haven't reached that phase yet." You said amusedly but clearly stating boundaries, she laughed nodding without apologizing. "And second of all... You look like a snack! I'm jealous! Of Price, obviously. He hit the jackpot on ya." You said placing your backpack on the back of the chair before sitting swiftly next to Alan and other girl friend of yours, Malory.

Some of them rose their brows and Martha squinted curious. "How come you know his name? Do you know each other?"

Shit.

"I'm a regular at her shop." Price said casually squeezing Martha's thigh with a tight-lipped smile. You missed his dumb smiles.

"At the tea shop?" Martha questioned suddenly all suspicious while scratching Price's gigantic shoulder with her sinfully long pink nails.

"Babe, I'm British." The way Price said that made the table erupt in chuckles quickly lightening up the mood. Everyone laughed but you who just smiled amused by the comment and quickly excused yourself walking off to order something at the bar with Price's eyes following your every move, the table soon recovered their previous conversations.

What's up with her? This woman has been sexting all your male friends ever since she joined the group, and she was well aware of your sexuality so why act jealous? Oh, and what the hell was with Price dating none other than MARTHA SWANSON? You thought he could do better than that... Come on, John. And since when did he have a girlfriend anyway!? Why didn't he tell you before making that weird (and cute) date thing in that abandoned place? Shit, what if... What if that wasn't a date at all and you were looking too deep into things?

Somehow that thought hurted more than you'd like to admit. But you can't just assume someone's into you just because you are cute and single.

Fuck... Perhaps you were bisexual after all. Or at least just for Price, which isn't fair because he has a girlfriend and your past experiences with men were the reason why you left the closet. You can't simply start experimenting on him to see if you aren't fully lesbian when you still have some issues with men to work on and he has a girlfriend (as bitchy as she is).

The moment you ordered a "Whiskey on the rocks." a male voice echoed your order mockingly at the same time. You rose your brow looking over your shoulder where Price was slowly walking to your side with a small smile looking everywhere but you rocking his weight on the spot he stopped at. You knew when Price did this hip thrust thingy was either because he was happy or he was nervous. And judging by the way he didn't hold your gaze for long, he was most definitely nervous.

Big hairy arms crossed on his chest leaning on the counter, both of you were quiet as the barman quickly handed your glass and went to take your cash until Price rose his hand to halt him handing him his own bill discreetly, surely praying that Martha didn't see him inviting you for a drink after acting so suspicious and jealous in the table.

"Can't say I'm surprised you'd order the same shit as always even when they've got awesome pints in 'ere." He delivered in a soft hum. His voice, ever so manly and calming, made your hard shoulders shag slightly relaxing your stance, Price's gaze was lost in the bottles displayed behind the busy barman who was drying some glasses trying to ignore the satisfaction he felt noting the effect he had on you. Then, you decided to replay but in a way that held a double meaning, you could only hope he understood.

"I'm a gal or habits. But I must say there are things I wouldn't mind trying."

He was taken aback never imagining you'd say such thing. As you took your whiskey and walked one single step further from the bar trying to scape the scene to leave him some space to swallow what you said, Price's hand on your waist halted you instantly. You choke on your breath at the feeling of his giant hand delicately squeeze the plushness of you waist through your uniform like this. He was quiet, a tight smile pushing up his facial hair and cheeks crinkling his eyes further in an expression you had never seen him put and could only be described as want and worry all mixed together.

"(Y/n)." Price begun retreating his hand from your waist.

"I'm sorry." You said, not needing to hear anything else. "I misunderstood the situation when we were stargazing..."

John didn't have the heart to tell you that you didn't misunderstand anything keeping in mind that you two were still coming to terms with what happend that night and the impact it had on your friendship forever changing the view you had of one another. Truth is, (for both of you) that he was afraid of spending another week not talking to you even though the distance was needed. As adults, the stress or work, family and new relationships can make one's emotions unstable and unclear for one's self and therefore for others around them. His aunt often said that as an adult he must figure his shit out, but for Price it was different considering his whole life was his job and he has only begun living it recently. In desperation at the realization that he was no longer a boy but a middle-aged man whose life was running before his eyes faster than he wanted to admit, John suddenly found himself begining a romantic relationship with a woman who was only in for sex and appearances to later finding in her nothing but numbness and headaches, that until he found someone better for him who brought so many feelings and experiences in such little time you've known each other, that filled him with wonder for the future but couldn't persue anything further than friendship reaching his predicament since you were not attracted to him sexually and he was already committed to someone else. What a mess.

"Me too. I'm sorry for..." Price shook his head forcing his eyes to remain in your face with a long sigh. "For acting like that. I know i made things awkward pretty quickly, I didn't mean t' sound hateful or childish, and that plus the week of zero contact surely made me look like an asshole." You nod In agreement with an humorous smile that turned into a chuckle he mirrored. "Our friendship is very important to me, (Y/n). You just-..." He paused staring at the depths of your pupils intensively making you blush feeling slightly exposed. "You are important to me. You just give sense to everything..."

Your smile widened, your right hand swirled the whiskey glass making the ice cubes clank satisfactorily when you took one step closer to Price. "I don't make sense to shit, big Price. It's the alcohol in our systems what gives it to anything in our shitty lives."

Is it though? Is the whiskey in your hand the elixir you both need to feel such connection? Suddenly everything around you disappears, it's only John and you in that bar closer than before.

"Then maybe we should stop involving alcohol every time we see each other." He speaks lowly, his voice and cologne intoxicating your senses. You lips part, the dreamy look in your face making him exhale in delight. "If you're right and any booze we take makes sense to... This." He moves a finger between you and him "Then I wanna stop drinking and be lost in you, (Y/n)."

"J-John..." You would have loved to continue this conversation but having Martha whine Price's name from the table like a desperate cat in heat made you two step away awkwardly and turn to reality going back to the table.

Oh to spend half an hour between laughs and jokes with your friends. How you missed this, you missed them. But as mentioned, it lasted half an hour until all of you all grew slightly tense when you begun taking notice of some heated looks shared between Alan and Martha the more they drank, and the way every time it happend, Price sent you this knowing look that stirred something within you. It wasn't desire, it wasn't amusement, it was something ugly that started eating up your insides until you were so irritated that once Martha and Alan left to the bathroom to do what you all knew they'd do, you took your chance to leave for a quick smoke along some of your friends who left the table sending Price looks filled with pitty. Price didn't mind them and stood up taking his coat to follow your smaller group, hopefully to continue the conversation you two were having.

You were a mess once you left the bar and walked to the nearest alley claiming you needed to be alone for some time, your friends brushed it off as they thought that any mention or hint of an affair would trigger the memory of Lisa.

Price didn't act surprised or hurt when Martha's affair was evident. That was either because he was dumb and haven't realized yet or he simply didn't care, but you knew how sharp big Price was. He wasn't a captain for nothing. You knew how attentive he is about anything and anyone around him, so you guessed he knew. And that started eating up your head with questions fueled by the alcohol in your system: Were you a part of his plan to get back at Martha for her cheating? Was this deep connection between you two something made up by Price to hopefully seduce you despite your sexuality only to shove the emotional affair to his girlfriend's face?

Fuck, you were so stupid. So fucking stupid. First it was your ex Lisa Higgins cheating on you after two years together apparently because you weren't as bold and wild as you used to be when she met you. Now it was John Price, who not only tried and succeed to make you forget about your ex and begin feeling more confident about yourself, but also made you question your sexuality and almost got you compleatly falling for him only to use this to get back at his cheating girlfriend.

You were done feeling heartbroken and used. You were done with romance, it simply wasn't for you. It only brought pain and misery.

"Hey, sweetheart?" You heard near the alleyway until John's face peeked from the brick wall looking at you worriedly. "What's happened? You alright...?" Was he following you again? Come on.

Without a thought you turned to him, your face showing nothing but hurt and vulnerability and Price couldn't contain himself so he quickly approached you wrapping you on your coat that you had forgotten inside and cooed at you as his arms wrapped around you trapping you on a suffocating hug. You whimpered on his chest and spoke up "When I was fresh out of college, I was invited to a party some of my old classmates were throwing." Price looked downwards a little confused until your teary eyes met his again. "No one told me I was the only girl coming or that the game they invented and insisted on me playing was only for them to enjoy... Or that the video they filmed about us playing said game would go viral on Twitter."

There was a pause then and realization hit Price quicker than you thought it would. "Jesus-"

"It obviously didn't turn well for them. But the damage was done. Some time later, the video was deleted, most of them are in jail now and I changed cities years before I met Lisa, but... Well. Since then I leaned more towards women, as you can imagine..."John crouched a bit to your level brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his hand was so warm it quickly comforted you. You looked up at him, both of you sharing an intense look that showed that the connection shared you thought lost wasn't so lost after all.

He whispered then "You are the strongest woman I know, (Y/n). I'm so sorry that happened to you..." Which got you sniffing so you could reply quickly reminding yourself of the previous negative thoughts you had about the captain.

"I'm not sorry. I'm much stronger now than I was then, so with that... I can tell you confidently that I'm a lesbian, John..." The way you said it sounded like you were chastising him.

"Are you?" Price asked arching a brow tilting your chin up. He was so close your hands pressed against his chest afraid he'd kiss you and make a fool out of yourself because you weren't sure you'd resist his charms any longer, all against your confidence of liking the opposite sex.

"You know the answer." You felt proud for saying it without a stutter. "Listen, if you are just doing this to use me for your vendetta against you cheater girlfriend, I can't help you. You-... Can't just ask me to like men!" You barked perplexed. Price on the other hand didn't blink, he just looked at you with half-lid eyes lost on every faction of your face making you think he truly hadn't paid attention to anything you just said.

"I don't give a rat's ass about Martha at this point, (Y/n)." Your eyes widened when he said that so plainly, your hands going slack on his chest until his other hand held them tight to his pectorals. "I'm not asking you to like men, only to like me." John grunted out in frustration, and your heart begun beating faster.

What is gender when it comes to love. What is your sexual orientation when you have someone you love and cherish so deeply at the palms of your hands, kissing your feet and loving you unconditionally wanting nothing but to pleasure you in any way they can, to make you feel special and more importantly, loved. Is John Price worth your heart?

"I'm leaving for approximately three months. It's work related and strictly confidential." He continues after giving you some seconds to digest what he said "I don't want you to pity me and force yourself to love me when we are fine just as we are, love. But I want to tell you that the only person that I'll have in my head when I leave England will be you, (Y/n). Not Martha, not our friend group, not my piers or any other bloody person in this country but you."

The sob that scaped your mouth made you feel a pang of embarrassment that forced you to quickly look away until Price turned desperate gently turning your face his way with both hands on your cheeks. "Lie to me... Tell me that you love me, (Y/n). Just once before I leave."

Why is he so dramatic? Is this for real? Could it be that this mission was mortal? He was in the military, this wasn't some stupid work trip where he'd have to talk to some higher-ups and after a week or two he'd come back like nothing happenend. He'd be handling guns and getting fired at. He'd have more wounds and scars to show you followed by countless stories about how he dodged death only to make you realize that his job was indeed dangerous and he wasn't inmortal.

"...I can't..." You sobbed.

"...Why?" He asked, his voice sounding broken contradicting the confident and strong aura he always radiated.

"Why? I'd never lie to you... You dimwit." That earned a loud chuckle from him that sounded painful, like he was forcing himself to laugh instead of crying right then and there. "I'm not ready to say it... Not yet." You whispered, and Price exhaled.

After that, he kissed your hairline, both hands still holding your cheeks up applying more pressure into the kiss before he turned away with a rushed "Goodnight, love." Leaving you there dumbfounded with the realization that, despite claiming that you'd never lie to him, you already did when you told him of your sexuality. At this point you'd consider yourself Price-sexual if that was even a thing, which you were sure it was with the way all your lady friends looked at Price back in the bar.

You needed some time alone in the alley when Price left, feeling an upcoming headache with all the things you felt tonight. When you went back to the bar everyone was there but Price who had left leaving no excuse, but everyone thought he did because of Martha's stunt so they didn't fault him.

______

Two months without seeing or hearing nothing from Price. You felt like you'd go mad.

The countless texts and calls you sent went ignored. You cursed him for leaving you like that, you begged him to call you whenever he could, you reminded him of the silly nightly scapades you made and how fun it was to do literally anything with him, sent pictures of your cat who he always wanted to meet yet you claimed he had to organize a plan with you and his team first, told him how shitty his music taste was and yet how fitting once you investigated the bands he recommend to you when you met. Lastly, you also apologized again and explained all of this was too confusing for you when you were still trying to move on from Lisa and past trauma.

And on the third month, nothing.

Your life felt oddly normal, like Price never existed. Like you never left the group at all. It wasn't a surprise when Alan and Martha openly announced their friends with benefits' relationship out of the blue, most of your friends actually left the group after that because they felt she had messed up the whole dynamic by sleeping with half of the guys when she was in a relationship. Alan didn't keep quiet as he should have and defended her with stupid excuses that pissed all of you off. And yet, after some time, things kind of went back to normal when Martha suddenly disappeared. Alan said she was tired of all the drama and blamed you all for the group's decay deciding she'd focus more on Price and Price alone.

None of you believed her bullshit, specially you who knew Price was still on duty, but otherwise kept quiet on the matter because finally without Alan and Martha, the group recovered itself quickly and you all swore you would never sleep with each other so this types of dramas wouldn't happen again.

Your job was... Boring. Like always. But the routine and your friends helped you heal from Lisa and distracted you from your unfinished business with Price. On this third month without him, you begun going to therapy and it's the best thing you could have done. You had to carry multiple tissues in the first few sessions, and that's when you realized just how many feelings you had suppressed all this years. By the end of the month you realized (if it wasn't clear enough with Price's charms) that you were indeed bisexual, but all the pent up trauma formed a giant wall between you and the opposite sex that made you believe you had lost all attraction you held for men, but Price was the awakening, or so the therapist said. And you couldn't deny it, but you also agreed that it was best to remain single and focus on yourself in order to heal and form healthier friendships and even romantic relationships with other people.

Texting Price was no longer in your routine. Every time you felt the urge to do so, you'd watch a random episode from your favorite series, read a book or take Raspberry for a walk on the park with the new leash you had purchased from Amazon for the orange cat's fourth birthday.

Out of England, John was a mess and was only doing a little worse each day away from home. He'd focus on the mission and would never waver from it, even when his unit tried to take some breaks so they could catch air and relax from work, such thing never crossed Price's mind as he was eager to finish quickly so he'd go back to you. They were all worried, even Ghost, being the quietest, expressed his concerns about Price's change of personality. How he was more snappy than usual, always seemed to sulk, being overly reactive to the enemy's counterattacks just as he was with Laswell when she claimed they'd probably spend another few weeks if not another month stuck in there. Once he almost reached the fourth month away from you, he finally, oh finally, accomplished his duty and was granted permission to leave home earlier than anyone had liked. Frankly he didn't give a fuck about how badly it looked from him (as a captain) to leave "early", as this mission got on his nerves and he was worried sick about your view of him after he left the way he did to then throw a killing blow by ignoring your texts since he was not allowed to contact anyone at that time. But you didn't know that.

When he returned to his apartment, Price went directly to charge his phone and threw himself to the bathroom eager to enjoy a long, well-deserved shower followed by a wank. Watching the grime wash from his body being carried by the steaming water was something John didn't think he'd watch ever again. This mission was hellish to say the least, too many close calls, many fellow soldiers lost in enemy territory, many new scars to "brag" about... And he was fucking exhausted, so at the last minute he decided to skip the wank and read your messages.

This mission shouldn't have tired him the way it did. After all, he IS a captain. He is in the military. This should have been a walk in the park for him but... But where was his heart and head if not in the field of battle? He was too worried over losing you all over again due to his absence that it tired him mentally, so much so that instead of worrying for his life, Price only feared he'd never see you again, that he'd die without hearing you say that you reciprocated his feelings.

Honestly, you did imply that you do, but you never properly said "I love you." It's scary how much power that one sentence held over Price. How he felt like he could die in peace if only you said such thing. It was stupid, childish, even. But he couldn't help but feel weak over you.

Price didn't know you for a full year and he felt like he'd loose himself if he never got to see you again. Just like young lovers feeling so much intensity in their first relationship they'd be planning their future together even though they wouldn't last long. Maybe's because you were best friends, maybe's because of the limitations in your relationship due to your sexuality and his girlfriend... His obsession could be caused by many factors. But the easiest answer was simply because you were you. Because he never craved anything or anyone the way he craved you. Because you brought that spark to his life he never thought he needed until he begun feeling it in your company.

Because you were his everything.

Finding thousands upon thousands of texts an calls from you stirred something primal in Price. A need of returning to you, of feeling a loving touch after all these months of blood and carnage, to receive a sassy remark or literally anything you wanted to throw at him to comfort his old tired body, to make him feel like he was safe away from danger. The captain needed to return to his home, and his home was his woman.

Lover or friend, no matter what you chose, you were his. He'd be damned if he never got to tell you this.

______

On your way home from work, you felt a strange feeling of anticipation. You wanted to excuse it telling yourself it was because you were craving to get out of the rain and snuggle with your cat, much to his distaste.

Your eyes widen when you spotted a hooded figure sitting in your porch. The man is tall, the hoodie is old and from a certain someone's favorite football team. The hooded person lifted his head and you stood there frozen, a few steps away from where he was sat.

"John...?" Price felt like he'd die right there when you weakly called his name.

The months apart messed with his head and right now he could only feel... Yearning. He yearned for this.

His giant body propelled itself from the steps like an invisible force was pushing him to touch you. Your drenched body cried at the contact of his warmth and the smell of blue lavender Axe, his favorite deodorant. His arms wrapped around your middle and yours hugged his neck while Price buried his face on you wet locks with a needy sound you could only describe as a whine, you did the same with his neck lowering his hood that now uncovered his oak hair. No longer wet under the rain, your porch secured you from the shitty weather. You both panted at the contact as if during all these months you couldn't properly breath until you were holding one another.

Fuck the invisible chastity belt, fuck your doubts about your sexuality. Your John is back home, and you are one hundred percent willing to give him a very warm and wet welcome.

"Hello, dolly..." John gasped and you chuckled emotional, your shaky hand struggled to fish your keys from your coat's pocket eager to get the wet captain out of the cold.

"Hello to you too, big Price-..." You made a quick move to scape his bear hug and he didn't fight, afraid of crossing your boundaries until your hand took his tightly while you made quick work on opening your front door to drag the tired man inside your home until.

"SLAAAAG!" Your neighbor yelled from across the street.

John and you froze, shared a confused look then turned back to face your annoying neighbor.

"FUCK YOU, RONALD!" You screamed and Price followed back with a "GET YER FUCKING ASS HOME, RONALD!" Yeah. That's the same sexist neighbor you two tormented one drunken night by covering his entire work van with pink post-its.

"FUCK THE PAIR OF YA!" He wishes. "I SPENT MY WHOLE SATURDAY MORNING GETTIN' RID OF 'EM GIRLY PINK POST-ITS FROM MA' VAN! YA WANKERS! I KNOW IT WAS YOU! I'LL SUE YA!" The old man threatened trying to open his front door to secure the grocery bags from the rain. He looked clownish as hell, the insults and threats never affected you guys only causing a fit of low laughter to scape your grinning mouths.

"Ow fuck off you fucking dinosaur! Get the fuck back inside before I demolish ya!" Price said back with laughter on his tone rising a fist to your neighbor's way, that earned him a smack on the chest from you compleatly amused by his empty threat. Price tilted his head to your door silently begging you to hurry and you complied.

You two rushed inside leaving the old man baffled taking a second before he resumed his list of insults lovingly dedicated to the both of you. Ronald probably thought he won the fight so soon you'll have to put him on his place with one of you pranks. But now you MUST focus on Price.

After you closed the door and dropped your wet coat to the previously dry floor so carelessly, you jumped on Price shoving him against the wall with the force of the impact, your arms and legs wrapped around him like a monkey while he held you up tightly laughing endeared.

"Where the heck were you!? I told you to call me!" You exclaimed nuzzling your cheek against his loving the way he practically melted at this gesture, his beard scratched your skin as he pressed closer letting out an exhale that seemed to rob him of all the air from his lungs. You weren't mad at him after all. God, the relief. And this new cuddly side of you? He couldn't believe this was real. Weren't you resentful? Your loving nuzzles don't express so.

John's shoulders shook with the small enamoured chuckle he let out, then, he leaned close to whisper in your ear making you shiver lightly "I told you it was classified, love. Besides, I wanted to surprise you." He gave you a small pat on the bum. "Did I succeed?" He purred lastly, voice liquid honey.

You felt-... You felt warm all over. And you were sure he knew it by the way he was pressing yourself closer and closer, and fuck. There was no doubt the gigantic tent on his pants wasn't any of those big guns they carried on the military. Just when the realization hit you that you had John breathing heavily in your ear, your body compleatly wrapped around his while his erection was pressing hardly and JUST right against your clothed cunt, you whimpered.

"Fuck." You hummed. Weren't you supposed to avoid this? You should talk to your therapist about it next monday...

"What do we..." John breathed out, still afraid he was surpassing your boundaries.

Your eyes met his, noses gracing due to being in such close distance. He was immobile, his hands still supporting your weight by your bum and his boner pretty evident as it stabbed your jeans over your wet panties.

"You a virgin?" You joked, he tilted his head slightly back to fix you a confused but amused look with a small squint.

"Is there a right answer...?" Price mustered sounding uncharacteristically flustered and nervous.

"You act like one, big P." You grinned and his eyes darkened.

"God, I fucking missed you."

Your lips clashed in a heated kiss that felt fucking perfect even if it was a blur between lips, teeth and tongue. Gosh he had so much hair on his face, and yet it fit perfectly. His hands were massaging and squeezing your ass, now blindly walking to your living room until you both reached the couch where he flopped you on your back making Raspberry yelp in surprise, the poor cat hurried to get the fuck out of the room before Price begun taking his clothes off laughing in eagerness with you as you did the same. Like two young lovers, as mentioned. In a blink, your clothes were all across the carpet. With matching eagerness you made a quick move to straddle the aroused captain who whistled at how fast you moved to top him.

How proud he momentarily looked. Price's sure you'd be quick learning self-defense technics if he were to teach you. Maybe the reward of sex could be a motivator judging by how lightheaded and hungry you seemed on top. Of course he was only letting you on top because he fucking missed you and felt like he owed you.

His heaving hairy chest tickled your breasts once you fully sat on his lap with his erection pressing against his toned abdomen, your eagerness seeming to tone down feeling slightly intimidated by the sight of the giant captain being used as a human chair, cock standing proudly between you.

"W-well..." You stuttered. But who could fault you? Imagine being a lesbian for years and finding yourself straddling a guy with a cock the size of a monster can, and fat as one too. It was meaty all over, cut, with a big pink tip. His big thighs shifted a little impatiently from time to time because of the arousal. Even his nipples under the small mat of hair on his chest had gone hard as peebles. You felt... Aroused but intimidated, and Price could tell, his voice coming low and comforting but teasing nonetheless.

"Now who's acting like a virg-"

You shut him up by robing him a kiss, he hummed in delight. The kiss was brief but deep, soon reviving the fire in your cunt. His sky eyes shut as you moved back again to assess the issue staring down his huge dick with a determinated look.

"If I only knew you'd be shutting me up with kisses... I would have turned the most talkative mother fucker in all London." His awful flirting worked dissipating your nerves further, yet after a little pause feeling the little hesitation you had left, he wanted to make sure.

"We don't have ta' do this." Prices' tone was soft and assuring, but you already made up your mind and you were one hundred percent sure you could do this.

"You are such a sweet talker, love..." Price tried to fight the huge grin on his face when you called him that, but just like a happy dog moving it's tail, his cock twitched in between your folds, reannouncing his arousal. You grinned delighted at this leaning to his ear, his eyes entranced at the sight of your bare tits pressing up against his chest.

"You do like it when I praise ya, huh?" You whispered on his ear, he agreed in a light "uh huh..." Both hands massaging your thighs impatient, his breathing going raspy, but he was clearly holding himself back. "I'm okay with this... No need to be so cautious when you've got me naked n' wet all over you, John." You purred nibbling on his earlobe. To such sentence, his body begun reacting accordingly to how he was feeling, his tip leaked, his hands grew sweaty and his breathing heaved deeper, his thighs shifted more and more under you suffering from the strong desire to thrust up.

His lips found yours, one of his hands cupped your right ass cheek as the other guided your hand towards his leaking cock delivering your lower lip a bite as your small hand grabbed his heating cock firmly. Then, John asked. "Can I speak bluntly...?" You whined a "sure... Stop usin' filters... Just fucking tell me what you think, big P." He was so sweet for asking though.

"Right then..." The way his eyes darked and the strong painful squeeze on your buttocks made you shift on the spot. "I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard, luv... You've got no idea how long I wanted to do this..."

But it was your response what got Price feeling like this whole ordeal was just one of his deepest darkest fantasies about you being manifested by his tired brain. "Fuck me, huh? I think I'll be the one fucking you, big P. Look at us. The big scary captain Price just returning home to be riden to death, pussydrunk and victorious."

The following growl he let out was nothing but sinful, the sweet result of your eager hand moving his cock fixing the tip in between your folds drenching it with your arousal, the perfect natural lubricant. "I've brought condoms." Price said stopping you from sinking down his member any further. Your eyes met his once again, pupils so dilated he could see his own reflection in them.

"We'll deal with the consequences later. Buy a pill or something, I don't care..."

Price was weak man. He was so fucking weak for you.

"How irresponsible~..." He was so quick to shut up with a loud grunt that sounded like old guy getting kicked on the balls once your ass was fully seated on his lap. His cock slid directly inside with zero effort, punching your womb with the force of your abrupt jump downwards practically impaling your small body. He'd have to reward you somehow by how nice and quiet you tried to be once the whole monster entered your small, flushed pussy.

Price had this shit-eating grin staring up at your fucked out face. You shifted on the spot with his cock still inside molding your walls, soon adjusting your legs planting the heels of your feet on the the couch on each side of his wide legs. John picked up on this and held your ass more firmly, both hands enjoying the way your ass cheeks melted to his palm. Then you grinned back with this challenging look, and Price was in.

Your ass sunk aggressively hard, instantly with a very desperate pace colliding against his thighs and big, hairy, pulsating balls. John sat there with his mouth watering and eyes widening at the sight of your blissed out face, the loud moans you let out were Price's new favorite sound. Your moans, and how awfully dirty you begun to talk.

"F-fucking perfect..." You let out, eyes hypnotized by the way his pecs begun lightly jiggling like jello at the pace and force of your hips. "I needed this cock, John. Fuck-fuck- I... I needed you to fucking impale me with this fucking thing." Jesus.

Your higher body leaned back arching like a cat, with one hand using his left shoulder as leverage and the other supporting your weight on his knee. His own helped you guiding your pace by your hips, big calloused palms nuzzling and squeezing your tender skin. "Y' like ma' cock so much you'll end up- ..." He growled deeply at the realization of what he was about to say. "... fucken' knocking yourself up with my babies..."

Oh it shouldn't make you this desperate to hear such thing. The topic of kids was always something you avoided. But can you avoid it now with the way your body shivered, your pace turning sloppier and aggressive and your moans turning louder? "Y-YEAH! SHIT!"

Price felt like fainting right then and there, your whole body went forwards once more digging one of your nipples on his watering mouth. You both cried out loud when he met your eager jumps with thrusts of his own, balls hitting your ass so fucking hard, the clapping sounds could almost match in height your screans of bliss. How could a small doll like you NOT break with the way his cock bullied your insides like a horse in heat? How he felt the small tip of your cervix kiss his cock head, your painfully tight walls strangling his giant cock.

Your screams of pleasure will most definitely be the topic of the next meeting between your neighbors by the end of the week, and honestly? You were happy about letting them know that all the effort and training you had spent fucking dragon dildos up until now had been rewarded with the giant cock of your best friend testing the flexibility of your cunt.

"H-have no idea- AH! F-ffff....of how- of how long I've spent fucking touching myself thinking about this monster cock...H-How it bulged-" You whined reaching a second orgasm, Price's thumb didn't help one bit as it rubbed harshly on your small puffy clit.

"Y-yeah? Tell me about it, sweetheart..." He begged, body all shiny with sweat biting his lower lip at the small building pain from his spine by the way he was thrusting up so hard.

"Y-" A scream interrumped you, pace slowing down. Your whole body shivered and the urge to pee was so overwhelming you simply let go, your ears rang missing the way Price moaned out when his cock was being strangled harder than before and he could feel the waves of pleasure from your cunt. A big shot of squirt drenched his whole abdomen, his thumb aggressively played with your clit in order to prolong the orgasm. Prices' eyes went so wide it was almost comical, your body was shaking as if you got electro shocked, one hand weakly punching his chest so he'd stop and the other squeezed his knee painfully, your mouth open and whaling in pleasure followed by fat tears at how fucking blissful it felt to squirt so much and so hard all over your sweet captain. Price couldn't hold himself still, and against your wishes, (he'll apologize later) he flipped you over wrapping his arms around your body. He laid you down with your head almost handging off the armrest of your ruined couch, your knees were pushed to your ears' level and the enormous figure of Price engulfed your form when he lowered his body to hold your position still by tightly gripping at your ankles, pistoning his cock in and out of your puffy, squirt-drenched pussy. He applied all the force his sore body allowed him by using his toes by the end of the couch as support instead of his knees.

Imagine the bliss of an eighty four kilogram mountain of muscle dropping his whole weight at a quick pace against your crying sex. You were screaming before but now you were in a deep coma and he was the one screaming feeling his cock get milked in a way he has never experienced in his forty years of life on this earth. "F-FUUUUUCK... YES! FUCKING KEEP SQUEEZIN' ON MY DICK, BABY!" Price was shooting prayers at the sky, but the only goddess they were directed to was you and your enchanting, addicting pussy. "Y-YEAH... SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT..." When was the last time he felt like this in bed? Fuck, you truly were the one and only for him.

And it was one particular stab of his cock what seemed to bring you back to life, eyes going white rolling back. You moved your head forwards slowly, your chin pressing on your chest to properly look at the relentless attack of Price's cock, thrust going sloppy and uneven. There's no words that could describe the love you two felt at that moment, when your eyes met, mouth drooling with the purest of pleasure before you lowly growled. "Give me your seed, John..."

Price didn't ask where, he just let go inside of you. His feet were in the air when he delivered one final thrust, his waist was pressing hard against yours with the weight of his lower half, his hands still used your ankles as leverage to not fall on top of you. Price roared out his orgasm at the incredible and indescribable feeling of his balls emptying somewhere VERY deep inside your pussy, so fucking deep you could imagine the fountain of semen reaching even your throat (though anatomically incorrect). You two panted like dogs, still unmoving but not for now with the way your bodies seemed to give up on both of you.

Price held your expent body close, you two cuddled on the small space of your couch bathed in various different fluids.

Counting two minutes laying there in silence with your eyes closed, head pressed against his hairy chest, Price's soft feather touch along your waist stirred you up to reality. The feeling of your pussy crying rivers of cum made you round the Captain's waist with your leg followed by a long exhausted hum.

"Jesus..." You have no idea who out the two of you said that. But mood. That was the most intense sex you've ever had.

"Uff... That felt like three rounds in one go if you have any left..." You exhaled with a soft smile looking up at John who lazily blinked at you with a small smile of his own.

"Aha... Might wanna give me some time to recover, firecracker. Fuck, not even my job gets me this sweaty..." The captain jested earning a little kiss on the tip of his nose. "I wanna... I wanna melt right here for now. With you."

Your tired smile softened making Price lean impossibly closer to you. Curling against your sweaty body felt like heaven after the hell he had gone to all these months. Like you could read his mind, you asked.

"What's it like out there? Being a captain n' all?" You had never asked him many questions about his role in the military because the mere mention of his job brought a somber look on his half-lid eyes. You knew it was a heavy topic for Price, he stood proudly on his occupation but you could read the pain he felt when he recalled the things he did and people he had lost to get to where he was right now.

John spoke lowly, tiredness making his foggy brain answer with sincerity. "No body ever told me being a captain could be this... Suffocating. I just knew when I was promoted. Everyone keeps askin' me what I wanna do durin' missions... And I just look at 'em and say what they want and need ta' hear. But you know what I really wanna do?" He took a pause then, eating up the sight of you naked on his chest with this comforting look on your face. "I wanna go home, hug you even if I never was a hugger... I wanna get the clean cups outta the dishwasher and put 'em in the cupboard to make some tea for us in the morning. I wanna watch you drinking it peacefully as you rant to me about this new book you've read or show you've seen, tell me of the new plans you've made for us in the night, who'd be pranking and what we'd be drinking while doing so. I wanna make you feel good, so good, wanna make ya orgasm as many times as I can to pay for all the time I'm gone for work. Truly. I just..." John sighed. And after a small pause he gave you the word to speak.

"I wanna sleep. All the time. Sometimes it feels like, when I have my eyes closed I can somehow travel to a dream where I don't feel shitty or useless or unloved constantly. And then I wake up and you are missing and I'm back to that crappy reality where I can only feel like shit." Your confession squeezed his chest so hard, the exhausted brit felt tears gathering on his eyes.

"No longer." Price promised.

"No longer." You echoed mimicking his manly voice breaking the soft moment causing John to giggle like a kid at your clownery. Such a funny and strange sound coming from him, but at the same time so fitting with that sweet stupid smile he was gracing you with.

"Fuck, you are beautiful." He said.

"I love you." You replied.

.

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Can we please get a part 2 of the Eliana fic it was so good I also felt crazy reading it

Here it is!! It's a bit short.

!TW! su!c!de thoughts

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jordan hadn’t said much since Eliana woke up.

Keiko had left to grab some food, and Eliana knew that Aaron was outside so he wouldn’t disturb anyone while yelling at their parents over the phone. So, Eliana and Jordan were alone.

The thing is, Eliana knew why Jordan was so silent. Despite knowing that Eliana had an awful and abusive childhood, Jordan was unaware of one thing.

“. . . Did you ever try to. . . um. . . ?” Jordan trailed off, unable to say it.

Eliana was silent and still. And then she nodded, staring up at the ceiling. “I was in 9th Grade. I was 14 years old. Aaron was living on his own for a year by then, and he was the only person who cared about me, so I just felt so alone. I was gonna jump off the school’s roof, but I got scared and called Aaron. He talked me down and told me to stay on the phone with him until he got one of his friends to pick me up since he lived too far away. Mom and dad got pissed that I left school, and were more pissed that I tried to end my life. They called me ungrateful and satanic and pathetic. After that, I moved in with Aaron.”

Jordan said nothing for a second, and Eliana wondered if she was mad at her for never bringing this up in the two years they’ve known each other. Then Jordan took her hand, making her meet the black-haired girl’s eyes. Jordan had tears in her eyes, and Eliana wanted to apologize a million times. “And, um. . . did you. . . try any other times?” Jordan swallowed a lump in her throat, squeezing El’s hand. “Y-you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

Eliana felt her own eyes brimming with tears. She shook her head, but her voice broke as she admitted, “I thought about it a lot, though. But Aaron helped me get better.” Her tears started to spill. “What I said really was just because of the stress and fever. I am better now. You don’t have to worry, Jor.”

Jordan nodded, sniffing softly. “I know, baby. I know.” But she couldn’t help but quickly glance at the inside of El’s wrist, subtly trying to see if there’s any faded scars she’s never noticed before. There were none.

"I love you," Eliana said.

Jordan smiled a bit, leaning forward and hugging Eliana, kissing her forehead. "I love you, too."

— — —

El fell asleep, so Jordan decided to go outside for some fresh air. Only to find Aaron sitting on a bench out there with his phone clenched in his hand, head handing.

“Hey,” she said, coming up to him.

He looked up at her. “Hey,” he said back. “How is she?”

“She’ll be fine.” Her eyes went to his phone. “What did they say?”

Aaron sighed heavily, leaning back. “My dad said that this was clearly what she deserved for ‘embarrassing them’ yesterday.” He scoffed, shaking his head as he continued, “And my mom said that even if they wanted to come, they were too busy with a full day of sightseeing, spa treatments, and some other stupid crap.”

Jordan felt her blood boiling. How can those people be so heartless?!

Aaron looked at Jordan with a soft, sad smile. “Y’know, Eliana was always such a sweet kid. She was always making people gifts, smiling, helping others. . . Everyone would say she was just as kind as she was pretty. Our parents loved her. . . until Miranda told them that she’s lesbian. I remember I came home from hanging out with some friends, and I found her crying in her room without a shirt on, lying on the floor with bruises and bloody welts all over her back. She was twelve. And suddenly, because she wasn’t the perfect straight little Christian girl anymore, everyone hated her. She didn’t deserve that.”

Jordan felt like she might cry again. “Your family sucks,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Aaron chuckled at that. “Yeah.” He looked at her. “I’m really glad she met you. She really loves you a lot, y’know. You’re all she talks about.”

At that, Jordan smiled. “I love her, too.”

For a second, Aaron went silent. Then he took a deep breath and said, “I’m not sure if Eliana ever told you this, but I’m dating a trans guy. I met him last year. I love him so much, and I met his family and they’re all amazing. But I haven’t told my family about him yet. And that’s what I admire about El. She’s so much braver than I am about this stuff. Bringing you to that dinner? Probably one of the bravest things she’s ever done. I’m probably so much of a coward that I might never tell my parents about Nolan.”

Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re cautious, not a coward. And after meeting your family, it’s totally understandable why.”

Grateful, Aaron smiled at her. “Thanks.” He opened his arms, and Jordan hugged him.

They stayed out on that bench a little longer before going back inside. On their way back to the room, Aaron suddenly said, “Y’know what? Maybe I will tell my parents about Nolan. I could be petty as hell and text a picture of us on Hailey’s stupid sweet 16 party.”

Jordan couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “You think you’re ready for that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe yes, maybe no. But I’m gonna do it.” He had a look on determination that was so recognizable that Jordan couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Jordan said, nudging his arm with her elbow. “You and Eliana are just so alike. And you’re both brave.”

Aaron smiled back, looking happy because of the comment. “Thanks, Jor.”

[kriegermeanswarrior11]

Clearly, there are still Krashlyn fans out there still trying to process what went down, and are still sad. And yes, I get it- it's very jarring to have this couple you've followed for literal years all of a sudden split, and then watch as one immediately jumps ship for someone else.

We will likely never know the actual truth. Bc we probably wouldn't get it from either one, tbh.

What I think we do know, is that trAsh fell for someone else, and then proceeded to end her marriage in the most disrespectful, hurtful, vicious, brutal, tone-deaf way. She needed what she wanted, and didn't think for one single second how her actions would impact others. Or, ironically, her own reputation. So now she's stuck in this world of having her new lady, but literally nothing else. I don't count her new bff's, bc they come and go. She has Sophia and her kids. She lost all her long-time friendships because of her wretched behavior, and she lost all credibility and marketability for herself.

I mean, I guess once she and SB are engaged/married, she may get some looks as a part of that power couple. But ppl don't forget. And when things seem inauthentic, they don't buy it. SB seems as phony and disingenuous as they come, so them together seems like a marketing nightmare. But who knows? It's just a bummer that SB is a public figure and we have to keep seeing them together. If she fell for some random personal trainer or something, we could never lay eyes on her again!

When Sophia gets over the excitement of this new experiment and realizes how inconsistent and pathetic Ashlyn is, we'll see some good things.

Also because it’s likely that she will want to have kids of her own sooner or later and it’s clear that Ashlyn is not suited to being a parent.

At most she is the funny lesbian auntie who takes you to get your first tattoo.

[dianneking]

The Disease (Larissa/Laurel)

The product of my Sunday evening Angst writing addiction, presented to you with only minimal editing and proof-reading. Written (belatedly) for day 5 of May Trope Mayhem 2023 by @duckprintspress​, with the prompt: Hanahaki. Crossposted on AO3 (link here and in the title below).

Tags: Angst, Hanahaki, Not Actually Unrequited love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Spoilers for Season 1 Finale of Wednesday (2022), Fear of Death, Disease Diagnosis, No Lesbians Die, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Marilyn is Laurel but Laurel is Good, Feelings!, Alcohol consumption.

Fandom:  Wednesday (2022) Pairing: Larissa Weems /Laurel Gates | Marilyn Thornhill Wordcount: 1774

 The Disease (Marilyn|Laurel x Larissa) 

The first time it happens, Laurel thinks it’s a cruel prank from one of her students. Teenagers are cruel, she thinks, and outcasts teenagers can be even more creative in their cruelty (little freaks she used to call her in the privacy of her mind, but recently she hasn’t been able to do so without picturing how sad Larissa’s face would be if she’d be able to hear that). And she’s sure it’s a funny prank in their eyes: the botany professor coughing up lungfuls of petals? How poetic.

But no matter how much she tries, she cannot get her students to confess who had it been, and she’s too ashamed of being the victim of a prank and unable to discover the culprit to go complain to Principal Weems (she wouldn’t mind the excuse to spend more time in her study, but she feels pathetic to go and complain like a little girl). She tries to forget the shame and when Larissa’s warm eyes meet hers that evening over both of their glasses of wine, she can passably lie and state that her day had been ‘alright’.

Except it happens a second time, and this time it is only her and Larissa when it happens, interrupting what had been an intense moment, when, made bolder by the alcohol in her veins, their faces had been getting closer to each other, as if pulled by an invincible magnetic force. Laurel had seen her own desire mirrored in her principal’s eyes, and she had seen how the taller woman’s tongue had come out to wet her lips in anticipation…but when their mouths were but a breath apart, she felt the tell-tale pressure behind her breastbone and she has to turn away, her hands clutching spasmodically at her mouth, trying to hide the colorful petals from sight.

She is unsuccessful, and Larissa’s horrified face is all she needs to see before running away from it all: the almost-kiss (her father and her brother and her mother are all screaming at her from their tombs, asking her why hasn’t she started on her plan yet, why wasn’t she extracting revenge on those monsters who had ruined her family), her boss who she most definitely shouldn’t be falling for, and the embarrassment of those petals still coming out of her airways. Or trying to run away from it.

She does a decent job of hiding in her conservatory over the next few days, thankfully helped by the weekend, but the cough attacks come about in increasingly frequent bouts, and on Monday she has no choice but to visit the nurse office.

She sees the pity on the nurse’s face before hearing it in their voice. I’m sorry, they say, you seem to be suffering from Hanahaki disease. The name doesn’t tell her much, but the tone is not that of good news. Laurel wonders if she’ll die of it before avenging her family, and the thought gives her more comfort than it should have (it’s not just Larissa - a part of her is starting to come to love her girls in Ophelia Hall, and the way her students’ eyes sparkle when she shows them particularly deadly plants - and she now realizes that no matter her prognosis, the plan for revenge has already died before she does).

She pretends to know what the nurse is talking about and looks up the disease on internet as soon as she gets to her classroom. She had to sit down to process the news. The words stare at her unrelentingly from the screen.

When afflicted by Hanahaki disease, the patient is subjected to cough attacks with production of copious amounts of flower petals, if and only if the patient is concomitantly affected by one-sided affection towards another person. The natural cure for the disease is for the recipient of such affection to return the feeling, or through surgical intervention. The inevitable side effect of the surgical procedure is the assured loss of the feelings the patient had. If left untreated, Hanahaki disease leads to certain death within the timespan of a few weeks.

A few weeks. That was all she had. The next few days go by in a haze, as her brain processes the information. Even if her insurance paid for the surgery, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to how her life was before falling for Larissa (she had been plotting to slaughter a school full of children for something that happened way before most of them were born, that was not a good place to be in mentally).

She wonders if she should tell Larissa. But that would serve no purpose, other than let the other woman feel guilty of her inevitable demise. And Laurel thinks she knows Larissa enough to know that she would feel guilty. She would add Laurel’s condition to the ever-growing burden on her shoulders, and possibly try to take on the costs for her surgery as well. No, she wouldn’t tell Larissa.

“Marilyn, we need to talk.”

When she hears that name falling from the other’s lips she knows that there is another secret that she doesn’t want to take to the grave with her. She doesn’t want to die as a lie. So when she meets up with her principal that night, she asks her to listen first, and Larissa looks at her with a stony expression as she retells the story of the Gates family and of how little Laurel had come back to her hometown to extract revenge but ended up finding a new, happier family in Nevermore, among the outcasts.

When she finishes her story, Larissa takes a sip of wine, and Laurel wishes she was able to go back to when those blue eyes looked at her with warmth and desire, instead of being unreadable as they are now. Guarded.

“Why are you telling me this, after all this time?”

And Laurel apparently is uncapable to lie to her anymore, because the truth falls from her lips in all of its ugliness, as she looks away from the unspoken accusations she thinks she can see in the icy depths that she so loves (She loves her so much, her chest constricts even when she’s not coughing up petals).

“Because I’m dying.”

In the stunned silence that follows, her lungs seize up once more and she (once again, it was starting to become a habit) runs away from the principal’s office. She doesn’t want to see the pity mix with distrust. She wants to remember the way Larissa looked at her when she was just Marilyn, and she wasn’t dying (at least, not quicker than any other person).

But she lives in a school, and the location of her quarters is not only well known to students and staff, but also clearly marked in case anyone forgot (Larissa never forgets anything about Nevermore, she’s sure of that) so her escape was always doomed to be a short-lived one. That night, Larissa enters through the door without knocking, her normally pristine appearance disheveled, with creases in her clothing, and flyaway hair sticking up in all directions (her makeup looks smudged as well, almost as if she had cried, but that’s impossible, so Laurel explains it as a trick of the light). Laurel drinks in her appearance from where she’s sitting at her own tiny desk overflowing with botany books (God, she’s beautiful even when she’s agitated).

“Who is it?” Larissa asks, her voice commanding as if she was herding her students during a school trip.

“Who?” Laurel asks, even if her gut already knows, and it feels like it’s been filled with ice and dread.

“You have Hanahaki, right? Who is it that you have feelings for?” She looks even more agitated, making her way towards Laurel, then apparently thinking better of it and settling for pacing the length of her tiny office (with her long legs, it takes her barely a couple of strides in either direction, but that doesn’t seem to stop her).

The ice had turned to lead in Laurel’s insides, and she can only whisper: “Please don’t ask me that.” The answer seems to physically hit Larissa, because she recoils and stops dead in her motion, before once again crossing the room, and falling to her knees besides Laurel’s chair. Laurel can only watch her, feeling as if her eyes are bulging out of her skull in surprise (What is the meaning of this?).

But then Larissa’s eyes are looking up at her, pleading, (she’s definitely been crying, there’s no denying it from this up close) and she begs her: “Please, at least let me take you to the nearest specialist. I can pay for the surgery. Please don’t just give up.” And there are tears in Laurel’s eyes too because she cannot explain to her, because Larissa is a good person who feels bad for her friend and she wouldn’t be able to understand. So she just shakes her head, no, she wouldn’t go to the surgeon. (She’d never give up her love).

She’s surprised when Larissa grabs her shoulders and shouts (Larissa Weems is not a woman who shouts when she’s angry – she only shouts when she is scared and overwhelmed). “BUT YOU CANNOT JUST DIE!” and Laurel brings her hands tenderly to Larissa’s face and tries to wipe away her tears, and tries to put on a brave face, and tell her boss that everybody has to die sooner or later and that is a fact of life (she doesn’t tell her how scary the thought of dying is).

And then Larissa is not only crying, but she’s shaking with sobs, and her voice is small and soft and broken when she tries to argue against that. “But you cannot just die, because, because…” And then, smaller, softer, and even more broken “…because I love you.”

And just like that, the oppression that was getting heavier and heavier against Laurel’s breastbone suddenly lifts, and she is cured of her ailment. And she feels lighter and more alive and happier than she’s ever felt is her life up until now because she’s not dying, after all (at least, not quicker than any other person), she’s not going to cough up petals anymore, and, most importantly, her feelings are returned.

Her lips find those of Larissa, and taste the saltiness of her tears on them, lightly, tenderly, before pulling back slightly and murmuring, still unable to fully believe it:

“It’s you. It’s always been you.”

And then their lips meet again and this time it is passionate, overpowering, and filled with requited love.

Liked it? You can find more angst (& other stuff too) on my fanfiction masterlist!

[nouveauxamoris]

i think u should post more design hcs... if i may suggest the big three in the bitch brigade :3

IM SO ON IT! just like the last design hc post, i’ll add little rundowns of some of the design traits!

DAZAI

my dazai design has gone thru a LOT of phases, as well as just a bit of exploration… a few common and solidified traits about him however:

- dazai’s very tan, and his hair is VERY curly, bordering coily. in my hc he’s ethnically mixed :3 (japanese and bangladeshi!)

- soft but sharp face, big nose, and soft big eyes. thick eyebrows too! i based his colour scheme off the manga one, so, dark brown almost black hair instead of a lighter brown, and dark brown eyes instead of a chestnut brown.

- SNAKEBITE PIERCINGS! in me nd the lovely @fiftyofhearts ‘ hcs (hes the asker here hai ethan :3), he got them done w ranpo and yosano.

- he’s fat. okay. i said so. the silhouette of his big ass clothes (the trenchcoat specifically) makes him look a little smaller, but thats still very much true.

- he’s scruffy. goes through periods of shaving vs not shaving but generally has a little bit of wispy facial hair more often than not. also, he’s transmasc!!! he binds w bandages also its not good. don’t do what he does. i don’t encourage unsafe binding

- 14 to 16-zai was very hyperfem. i don’t think he had that realization that he was trans until a liiiil bit later. maybe around 17? very subtly transitioned. i dont think he outwardly came out to many people other than probably chuuya, oda, and ango. everyone else just caught on eventually. he definitely went solely by his last name to disassociate from his deadname and eventually chose the name “osamu” as his first later on

- prisonzai is FULL of facial hair! his hair has gotten a lil longer too. that’s due to the fact that i’d imagine honestly his hair grows Very fast. and they’re not gonna give him a razor to shave this is literally prison

- he’s a lesbian btw

SIGMA

somehow, the sigma design has stayed relatively linear.

- LATINA SIGMA REALNESS!!!!!!!!!! a little ethnically ambiguous canonically because she was made from a book. duh. but tbh i think shes argentinian

- tan skin, very cool undertone. soft and droopy eyes, SUPER thick eyebrows, and white eyelashes. very round face and big and wide arched nose. she has a bit of a pathetic and sopping wet look to her, but she still looks very kind and gentle. most of the time while she’s masking (usually while working), that kinda works in her favour. adds to the warm and inviting feeling she’s got goin on. however, her resting face is very sad and miserable.

- she’s tall and lanky, kinda skinny. very lean and relatively average build. her colour scheme and outfit design is adjacent to the way she’s drawn in the manga. i love her so much but i dont like the anime depiction of her outfit… sorry bbg. she’s perfect in every way however

- i think generally, she’s very androgynous. enjoys dressing very androgynously too. you know how in stormbringer lippmann is described as like, so androgynous to the point where if he dressed femininely men would go crazy ‘nd if he dressed masculinely women would go crazy?? yeah. she’s got something similar goin on. switches between dressing femininely and masculinely and very in-between often. always doing something cute.

- in my eyes she is so transfem. no sort of medical transition, tho… just socially. came out that page serving cunt and she’ll continue to the day she dies

- she wears press on nails me-thinks. usually black almonds or stilettos, sometimes she switches it up to purple however.

- hair cut is kinda weird but like ???? its like if u mixed a hime cut w a wolf cut basically. or smthn like that. lots of layers. yes that’s her natural hair colour btw, she’s just cute like that.

- she’s also a lesbian btw

JŌNO

i’m only rlly getting into drawing jōno recently.. so lots of things keep changing. however, i HAVE decided on something.

- jōno is very much so blasian. lightskinted…. hair is pretty wavy but rests pretty straight just cuz of the haircut. the red is dyed btw. she didn’t care much abt the colour, someone asked to fuck w her hair, and she begrudgingly told them to go crazy. everyone seems to like it however, so she’s down w it.

- SMILE LINES. SMILE LINES AND EYE WRINKLES. product of keeping her eyes closed literally all the time. and her stupid smug resting face. she’s also filled with freckles and beauty marks. majority of them are on her face, but she’s definitely got some around her body as well.

- jōno is Tall. around 5’11” ethan has decided. she’s got a very graceful build but she’s NOT small, nor thin. lots of muscle and fat collecting around her thighs and legs, her strongest asset when it comes to physical strength methinks. have you SEEN how violently she’s able to kick people??? cmon now.

- very elegant woman in every aspect Except personality. i love her she’s actually SUCH a bitch

- again. TRANSFEM! if i like a male character.. heh… well… let’s just say they’re no longer male. (unless you’re dazai. he’s boybossing it up every day)

- she’s ALSO a lesbian btw

- i don’t have a lot to say for her i just love her so much omg

[buried-stars]

OH LET'S FUCKING GO. goro akechi, amame doi, fuka yamagishi, gyu-hyuk lee, maya fey, mukuro ikusaba :3

yippee!

goro

Sexuality Headcanon: this is a gay man. we all know it to be true. Gender Headcanon: some kind of trans and non-binary swag going on here... A ship I have with said character: eiichi mukuhira because oc/canon isn't dead A BROTP I have with said character: frankly his (potential) friendships with all the PT make me feel insane in one direction or another, but special mention to the sumi goro brotp. i so desperately need more platonic content between them that doesnt have any romance as a backdrop. goro's like "i don't have friends" and sumi says "yeah we're BEST friends :D" A NOTP I have with said character: its so hard to be a goroboy who doesnt like any ship with him. but any of the girls or akira makes me want to start attacking people with hammers A random headcanon: after royal he becomes roommates with annshiho. i love it when lesbians adopt a pathetic little man. shiho is still trying to figure out whether or not he's joking about having killed people (he's not) General Opinion over said character: you know exactly how i feel about him and if i start trying to summarize it here im going to end up with an essay so instead im just gonna glitch out of existence

amame

Sexuality Headcanon: LESBIAN!!!! Gender Headcanon: she/they-isms A ship I have with said character: mamebiki is the only one that could ever matter to me. waaauuuggghhh A BROTP I have with said character: i want to believe her and iris rly are besties. show it to me uchikoshi... A NOTP I have with said character: gen is a father figure to her. fuck you. A random headcanon: AI3 PSYNCER AMAME I KNOW IT TO BE TRUE General Opinion over said character: incredible how she went from being a joke side character in the first game to one of the most interesting and complex characters of all time. i adore her. she did nothing wrong.

fuuka

Sexuality Headcanon: ace lesbian Gender Headcanon: i honestly dont think ive ever thought about it...? A ship I have with said character: funnily enough i don't have one! maybe minako idk A BROTP I have with said character: i think her friendship with yukari is really sweet A NOTP I have with said character: i will never get the appeal of her and natsuki. even in 2017 i was like "why do we want her to date the girl who harassed her to the point that she thought she killed herself" A random headcanon: she carries minako's old earphones in her bag all the time General Opinion over said character: my sweetie <3 she silly. i don't have a ton to say because it's 5:30 in the morning but i like her a lot

gyu-hyuk

Sexuality Headcanon: undoubtedly gay. look at him Gender Headcanon: CANON* he/she. (*it's a typo but i can dream) A ship I have with said character: gyuyoon makes me feel like im trapped inside a salad spinner (affectionate) A BROTP I have with said character: gyu and juyoung... they're so besties A NOTP I have with said character: either of the girls :P honestly i can't see him with anyone besides do-yoon A random headcanon: his eyes are brown those are colour contacts. General Opinion over said character: mr sad eyes sopping wet tragic oarfish id do anything for him. he did a lot wrong but hes still my guy. get him help pronto

maya

Sexuality Headcanon: lesbian (do you see a pattern) Gender Headcanon: trans girl :D A ship I have with said character: emamaya my beloved <33 A BROTP I have with said character: phoenix and maya are the fucking blueprint. i adore them so much. siblings of all time A NOTP I have with said character: i mean aside from obvious garbage i am a massive frnmy hater. we all been knew A random headcanon: kurain is a vegetarian village so maya's love of burgers come from them being forbidden at home General Opinion over said character: ive loved her since the day i picked up aa1 way back in 2014. my dear darling

mukuro

Sexuality Headcanon: lesbian of course Gender Headcanon: non-binary <3 A ship I have with said character: gee! i sure wonder! who could i, the person who popularized ikuzono, possibly ship with mukuro? it's a mystery. A BROTP I have with said character: chapter one trio still does something to my brain tbh A NOTP I have with said character: known nk hater since 2015 and this will never change A random headcanon: she's afraid of clowns General Opinion over said character: i just want her to be happy

[independcnt]

another sae-byeok winner au thing i wrote, sort of pride month inspired bc there’s some lesbian introspection, but its mostly just Sad and Depressing(tm).  word count: 928

“nuna?”

sae-byeok, hands rising from murky water to dry another ceramic plate, hums lightly in response from her place at the kitchen sink.

“who’s ... ji-yeong?” her brother asks, with uncharacteristic hesitation.

it is only by virtue of her quick hands that sae-byeok knocks a glass off the counter and clumsily catches it before it can shatter on the floor. her hands shake, even after she sets it down. “how do you know that name?” she questions, harsh. harsher than she’s ever been with cheol. guilt needles uncomfortably in sae-byeok’s chest as she turns away from the sink to look at him, even if she’d rather not see the hurt in his eyes right now.

“you were talking in your sleep last night,” he says, looking down at his plate, not trying to avoid sae-byeok’s gaze but doing a pretty good job of it anyway. “again.”

it’s pathetic. makes sae-byeok feel sopping wet with humiliation to be caught muttering someone’s name in her sleep, some girl’s name like a lovesick teenager. “she’s—” no one. not anymore. but sae-byeok could never say that out loud, those words too heavy to ever rise up her throat. was half an hour of trading secrets enough to make them friends? it felt like they were ... something more. something sae-byeok doesn’t have a word for. but if there is a word for it, then surely ji-yeong would know. 

but because ji-yeong is dead, gone, sae-byeok will have to go through the rest of her life trying to find that word without ever speaking of it.

“you ever kiss anyone? or didn’t they do that up north?” it’s easy to imagine the smirk ji-yeong’s wearing, roguish and teasing, like one of them wasn’t about to have their brains blown out by the end of the hour.

“i never felt that way about the boys my age,” sae-byeok dismisses, quickly, massaging the knuckles of her fingers to give her hands something to do.

she hears ji-yeong snort behind her. “i wasn’t talking about boys,” she says, like it should’ve been obvious.

sae-byeok looks up, confused. even more confused than she was before ji-yeong explained mojitos and tequila sunrises.

ji-yeong’s smile begins to fall before returning, that mischief coming back with a vengeance. as impish as it is, it’s a good smile. a great smile, even. “you’ve never thought about girls that way?”

sae-byeok looks away when she feels the tips of her ears start to burn, face getting hot like they really are sitting under the scorching evening sun. like it was nothing at all, with just a single question, ji-yeong managed to chip away at walls and rubble to reveal this long-ignored truth, one sae-byeok always refused to uncover. 

she has thought. fleeting thoughts sae-byeok turned from, avoiding them in favor of focusing on the things that really mattered: her family, and getting them back together. it would be too selfish to entertain those thoughts, the ones that arose when deok-su’s girls came around wearing too little clothing and showing too much skin, or when the young woman ringing up her takeout order smiled at her too brightly, or even when memories from her youth resurfaced, ones of her closest childhood friend teaching her how to cartwheel, holding hands and smoothing hair as they ran inside from recess. there was too much guilt surrounding those thoughts, unable to pay any mind to them when her love life should be the absolute least of her concerns.

could she admit it now, though? speak aloud these things she refused to acknowledge for so long because it feels like this is the only time she ever can? ji-yeong was right, after all. it doesn’t matter what we tell each other. no one can really be embarrassed anymore. if there ever was a time to talk about it, it would be now.  

her silence is hard, immovable. like it’s an answer of its own.

ji-yeong gives a low whistle from behind her, shuffling in such a way that sae-byeok imagines her leaning forward, chin on palm and wearing that vaguely amused expression she sometimes wears. “you walk around looking like that and really expect people not to know?” she mumbles under her breath, more to herself than anything.

and sae-byeok ... she wanted to know what ji-yeong meant by that, and why she asked in the first place, but time was running out and there were too many other things to talk about, to find out about the other girl, all while the certainty of death hung overhead, trying and failing to drive a wedge between them. it’s a moment sae-byeok returns to more often than she should, thinking about a dead girl and what she wanted from her, why ji-yeong ended up  ... doing what she did.

how had ji-yeong known about—? 

the plate clatters loudly onto the drying rack.

had ji-yeong wanted to—?

a glass this time, colliding with another so roughly sae-byeok should probably check for damage.

if she didn’t, then why would she—?

“finish your dinner. we can talk about this later.” her tone is clipped, and not convincing. cheol will remember she said the same thing about this new, fully-furnished apartment. we can talk about this later. said it about the suitcases of money in the closet, and the whereabouts of their mother and father too. and if cheol has noticed the pattern, then he doesn’t make it known, returning to his meal and only casting the occasional worried glance at his sister’s back, desperate for some way to reach her.