#still worth watchin Tumblr posts

[deckardsdwelling]

[1923 - 1x3 - “The War Has Come Home”]

— WDD

[bukuoshin]

Talking to tik-tokkers and desperately trying to explain that it is not inherently bad to have a childlike personality or interests, that many neurodivergent people act like the people they're saying are weird, that saying "but they're neurotypical so it's not okay" is a discriminatory statement, so on.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - VII - I DON'T MIND WHO'S WATCHIN' 👀

Full Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

RIO MASTERLIST

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~3.2K

Warning: NSFW 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

Summary: This ones longer than most and steamy. Our two philanderers are in Mexico together where make up for lost time wink 😜 they're confronted with unexpected feelings and events.

VII - I DON'T MIND WHO'S WATCHIN'

Having recovered your suitcases from baggage you assess yourself in the airport mirror making you presentable. You can feel your heart beating violently in your chest at the stakes. As excited as you are to see Rio, you feel a little … Okay, a lot nervous. He hasn't spoken much about his family and why would he? But you were here now and wanted to make a good impression at the very least. But how would it look? What would they think of a woman that hasn't even signed the divorce papers, off on a getaway with her … boyfriend? Looking at your left hand the impression from years of wearing your wedding set is still there like a brand.

Don’t let James ruin this for you. You tell yourself juggling all the emotions. Just have fun with Rio. You add silently before looking yourself over in the mirror again and settling on confidence. Grabbing your bags you wheel them to the arrivals. The luggage you borrowed from your mother is hardly your usual style but it does the job. You look for a gentleman in a suit holding your name when you feel him behind you.

“You're crazy if you think I’m letting you get in a car with a stranger looking like that mama” He says, placing a peck on your neck as he takes his hand pulling you against him slowly at your waist. The effect on your body and mood is something worth studying. Closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax.

“I missed you” you confess turning to face him and he smiles.

“You hide it well, you don't blow me up” Rio comments, not used to your restraint.

“You told me not to.” you remind him as he leans in stealing a kiss. It’s possessive and a bit of a show. You push him away playfully when you hear whistling from the other travellers. You can feel your cheeks burning.

“That was before I knew you, doesn't count” he shrugs casually rolling your bags to a truck.

“So I can call you whenever I want?” you ask as he gets your bags in.

“Mhm” he nods and you initiate a hug needing one really bad. Over the past few days you've missed the intimacy and physical connection the two of you share. Especially after being deprived of it for so long. Rio indulges you having missed the contact himself. He was out in the world living like a pubescent boy unable to control his needs, hornier than ever with only one person in mind. There was no point thinking of other women, they wouldn’t do it for him like you could. When you separate he gets the door and you get in. Rio walks around the front of the vehicle and pulls out of the lot. The console between you is big but it doesn't stop him from resting his hand on your thigh.

“What’s the plan for Today?” you ask.

“Rehearsals, but I’m not in the wedding party so I’m free,” he winks. His mind is already where yours is headed.

“And tomorrow?” you clarify.

“The wedding and reception. Day after I’m whatever you're on before heading home” he shrugs.

“Are you and your cousin close?” you ask and Rio’s hand leaves your thigh gripping the wheel as his jaw sets in frustration. “Sorry if I over-”

“Don’t apologise” Rio mutters, taking your hand and kissing the back of it before setting it back where it was. “We’re opposites, I’m here for my grandma. She raised us together and she’s old so I’m not gonna give her a headache by being a no show” Rio explains, omitting the more painful parts of the story. Reaching over you run your fingers against his stubble as he drives.

“I’m on whatever you’re on” you repeat.

“Nah, you stay squishy like a gummy bear. Put your feet up, relax and enjoy the vacation. Don't worry about me” he says.

“Friends don’t have a party when one of them is dealing with something.” you tell him.

“Friends?” Rio raises a brow and you shrug not knowing what other title to give him.

“You’re always there to listen to me” you add and he smiles again. And you move your hands from his facial hair to the top of his ear.

“You’re not allowed no other friends then” he comments and you laugh. Rio waits for you to push harder, settling in surprise when you don’t. In his experience women almost always wanted to title things. Arriving at the luxury resort you both hop out and attendants grab your bags. You walk up stairs to a treehouse style villa with nearly panoramic views in the main bedroom. It’s gorgeous and modern while somehow still feeling warm. You go to the window to admire the view of the jungle all around this villa.

“This is really really nice Rio” you turn to find him sitting on the bed. It’s huge and there's only one. Also, there are two luxury boxes beside him. ��Rio” you ask unsure.

“You were sad and I know women like presents so I picked you up bags to match mine” he says casually. You smile leaning in to kiss him.

“Thank you” you smile as he places one of the boxes in your lap. Whenever James bought you gifts in the past he required a production of near hysterical praise while Rio almost hated acknowledgement of his kindness. With James there was always an occasion, with Rio it was just because. Your head spins trying to make sense of the man in front of you as you open the boxes to find a luxury duffle and carry on. “Thank you” you repeat overwhelmed by the gesture.

“Hey, mama, don't do that, don't cry” he says, reaching for you. He holds you and it's whiplash. His words and actions are the polar opposite of how he presents himself. The ‘I dont care facade’ is in stark contrast to how he treats you. Wiping your eyes you fight to keep the tears back.

“You're not allowed to have other friends either” you mutter and he laughs, his heart warming at you taking possession of him too.

“I don’t need any,” he  says to affirm your feelings before smothering you in quick kisses. You sit across him with your arms around his neck looking at him before he comes in for another kiss. He kisses you soft and slow, taking his time. Rio needs to savour every moment after so much time away. He needed to feel you. Feel your walls wrapped around his manhood, and our body writhing under him in pleasure. He kisses you deeper drawing out the seduction as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth pulling slightly. It’s just the right amount of pressure before he draws you out again, sucking your tongue. The kiss trails down your neck as you reach into his pants to make him feel as good as he's making you feel. Your hand moves in autopilot without a clearer view. His manhood comes to life in your hand as you wake it up stroking your hand lazily. Rio yanks your top down freeing your tits, his appetite for you insatiable as he places your pebbled nipples between his teeth kissing every part of your body that is sensitive to pleasure. Your strokes pick up along his length causing him to stop kissing you. Your eyes lock as rugged breaths take over. His eyes go low before closing in ecstasy from the pleasure you're beginning him. 

You're nearly on your knees about to blow him when the phone rings out. Panting Rio picks it up with his eyes still trained on you. He frowns in frustration. You see he’s trying to be free of his boxers and inside you. His body's reaction to yours makes you a little crazy. 

“Mmm” he sounds into the receiver clearly displeased.

“Alright, I’ll be there” he says before handing up pissed. Rio pulls you up from between his legs ready to kill Nick.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“Early family dinner before rehearsals.” he snaps pulling his pants back on.

“Rio!” you whine, needing it.

“Don't look at me like that” he says with a harshness to his tone. Standing you look at yourself in the mirror and curse.

“What time?” you ask.

“Now, I’m late” he says getting on a watch before his shoes. You feel something is a foot and head to your luggage.

“What are you doing you don't have to come, mama.” he says.

“I’m coming to Rio, blame me for you being late” you say, finding a dress that should fit the occasion nicely without being too much. “Give me five and say we got lost” you suggest heading into the bathroom and when you don't hear the door slam you smile. He listened. Five minutes later you emerge needing a little help with the zipper. You look and smell delectable and if it wasn’t for his granny Rio would be inside of you. You slip on a pair of flat sandals and hold his hand. Looking up into his eyes you see he’s grateful. You walk with him to the dinner venue and find a table full of people whose expressions change at the sight of you.

“Sorry we’re late” you apologise knowing RIo isn't going to. Eyes light at the sight of you and you lock eyes with the bride who gives you an accepting nod as Rio finds his seat pulling out your chair. You sit first and he follows.

“You’re not late …” The man beside the bride says.

“Y/N” you smile and he holds his hand out.

“Nick” the man introduces himself.

“Y/N, don’t worry. We’re very happy to have you and Christopher here with us” the bride says and you shake her hand rejecting her soon to be husbands hand out of respect for Rio.

“Thank you for the grace. You're gorgeous by the way” You tell her honestly and she beams. You hope you've lessened tensions.

“You too” she smiles as you settle back in your seat you find Rio sharing a look full of animosity and place your hand on his thigh. It’s twenty more minutes of talking before the first course is brought out and you realise the last minute invite was a ploy from Nick, his cousin. Dinner is delicious and Rio and his future in-laws' families both seem nice enough. However, the animosity between Rio and Nick is thick and something everyone seems to tiptoe around with the two men only falling in line for their grandmother who seems to be the families matriarch. Everyone mixes for a while after the dinner but Rio keeps you close until his grandmother beckons him. You look through the album of engagement photos when the Bride appears in front of you Marisol, which you learned from conversation and the table setting.

“There's a site with an itinerary for the wedding with all the dates, times, locations and shuttles. I won’t let Nick’s petty ruin my day” she smiles, handing you a card with a QR code. 

Smiling, you place it in your purse. “Thank you”

“All I ask is if Nick pokes too much you try and wrangle the bear, only this once” she whispers.

“If we’re talking about Christopher. I can't control him” you speak frankly.

“No but he likes you. I’m a shrink. I know these things. Their issues are deep rooted, they dont like eachother but they love each other” she sighs motioning to Rio and Nick being admonished by their grandmother. You smile and find her doing the same. “I may not need you to wrangle the bear” Marisol smiles watching their grandmother raise her pointer to Nick.

“Thanks and don’t stress before your big day” you smile.

“Thank you. Not that you need it but we have several makeup artists for the family pictures tomorrow. Me and a few girls will be making a little trouble tonight if you want to come.” she offers.

“She’s busy Marisol, shrink someone else” You hear from Rio as he resumes his position behind you. Marisol smiles.

“Nice speaking with you doll. Rio, I like her. Be a gentleman like we know you can be, not an ass” Marisol smiles before walking away. You look up at Rio to find him wearing a smirk.

“She’s nice” you comment.

“She’s an angel with a saviour complex to marry a case like Nick” he whispers in your ear making you smile before kissing your cheek.

“Can we go now?” you ask.

“No, grandma found out I wasn't at the wedding party. Now, I am” he comments and you pout.

“Then after the rehearsal?” you propose with the innuendo in your expression. Rio smiles when he sees the want in your eyes is as great as the want in his.

“Don’t look at me like that” he warns, pulling you in closer. You send him puppy eyes. “Shhh” he whispers as you wear him down. The beach is turned into a church for the destination wedding. Honestly, it's breathtaking. The walk through forces you to revisit bittersweet memories and as they go through the vows and how things are supposed to go you slip out to call your mom.

“Hey baby”

“Hey, I forgot to call to tell you I got in okay. Rio brought me to the hotel and then we got roped into a family dinner and a rehearsal” you tell her.

“How's the weather?” she asks but her tone is off.

“What's wrong?” you ask and she sighs deeply.

“A friend of James and the friend's wife were apparently at the airport and saw you kissing Rio. James called livid.” she says and you shake your head as your heart starts racing. “You have nothing to be guilty about. I’m just warning you baby-girl, he knows” she explains and you nod acknowledging the jig is up. 

“Thanks for telling me”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to re-join the festivities. I'll talk to you later. Thanks for telling me” you tell her.

“I love you”

“Love you too mom” you smile heading back to the dress rehearsal only to find Rio on high alert.

“You okay?” he asks first.

“Mhm” you nod.

“Come on, this shitshow is over” he says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Rio we need measurements” Nick shouts.

“Why so he can fuck up my suit?” Rio mutters as his grandma interjects that she has them already. “You look too good in that dress mama” he mutters trailing behind you.

“Look even better when you take it off me” you wink.

“Hey, before we go at it. Thanks for today” he says, arriving at your door with the key. You’re a little confused.

“For coming?” you ask.

“Nah, for coming with me to the brunch and diffusing the situation. I know you have your own stuff and you don't need to deal with mine too so I appreciate it.” he says.

“You don't have to thank me Rio, you're already getting lucky” you tease.

“Throw in a little extra” he winks joking too. You know that once you open the door neither of you will be leaving the room until morning. Heading in first you smile in excitement knowing you're about to have sex with the best. Your chemistry is through the roof and so is his appreciation for you, his gifts, attention to detail and voluntary acts of service. There's nothing to worry about in his presence, a feeling you don't know if you've ever truly experienced before.

“How do you want me?” you ask, stepping out of your slippers and headed to the bed. Locking the door behind him Rio’s eyes track you.

“Stop right there,” He says. 

The answer is simple, his mood is rare. Seeing you smiling among his family did something to him. He needed to show you appreciation for having his back today. He wanted to watch you lose control as he went deeper. Your back is arching to accommodate his size. The glow that would come off of your skin as your body grew warmed from his touch. He presses a button to draw the shades and another to dim the lights. Before closing the distance to you. You can sense that tonight is different. You take a deep breath in, admiring the man standing in front of you. His hands go to your shoulders slipping the straps of your dress off. When Rio’s done undressing you're happy you're wearing one of your new sets. His eyes look sated already. Like it means the world to him to have you here with him, like he knows you bought the set you're wearing just for him. Rio’s head dips to your neck and he kisses sloppily before the pressure threatens to leave hickeys.

“Rio” you whisper, breaking the contact to kiss his lips. 

“Mmm” he groans, leading you to the bed.

“I need you” you whisper needy. His eyes shut firmly. He breathes heavily to try and calm down. There's no room for more foreplay than the past few days have been.

“Ok baby” he mutters and you go to turn knowing he likes to take you from behind. A firm hand stops you from turning.

“I want to see you” he says through rugged breaths and low lids. Without words you oblige feeling your body heat again. Rio kisses you deeper as you position you comfortably in the bed. Years of yoga make any position easy. Only, tonight isn't about flexibility or stamina. He needed to be inside you. It’s exactly where you need him. Your legs open instinctively, your body humming and ready for him. He springs free from his boxers and your eyes find his. 

He gives you another slow sloppy kiss before pushing your panties aside. The look he gives you makes your toes curl. Familiar fingers test the waters with teasing strokes. Proof of your anticipation is coating the fingers that end in his mouth. Placing one hand down Rio guides his manhood into you. His brown eyes hold yours watching as you adjust to inch after inch of him. 

Time slows as your body acclimates, growing more comfortable and aroused by the contact and his size. His eyes close once he's fully in and you pull him into a kiss tasting his effect on you. Your tongues dance as his strokes go from shallow to deep.

His eyes never leave you, the vulnerability of it ignites all of your senses. Every touch is electric. Every moan felt deeper and deeper. Every lude comment or lustful whisper makes each of you more reactive. Your eyes open and close in sequence as he strokes deeper and deeper until he’s rooted. Rio’s eyes open and his body stiffens. You watch arousal build as yours does too. He smiles just as his orgasm rips through him. Warm heat oozes inside of you before spilling out. Without breaking the intimate connection, Rio is now on his back with your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he stares at the ceiling in a post-coital daze. His hand trails over your back and it feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Your heart is full, body is sated and you feel safe.

Authors Note: Hopefully this is the beginning of your 🇲🇽 expectations. How did you enjoy them reconnecting. How did you like to see Nick. What do you think happens next?

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads

[sarahsmi13s]

Rocks Are Allowed to Crack, Stars Are Allowed to Dim

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!pilot!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n nivans, the daggers, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, diego and benny harding (oc father and son)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings, please please let me know if i missed any

word count: ~8.0k

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs and on my wheel for at least a year (please forgive the awkward moments). so i figured i'd take a sliver of the wheel and make him a little lighter! i've also been in a funk lately, so i thought getting something out there might help!

quick summary: everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder

Ah, yes, dogfight football. Maverick’s way of creating a team. You play offense and defense at the same time. Tackling each other into the sand, sometimes into the water. It may be chaotic, but it’s fun and a great team building exercise.

Which is why you hated that you were running a little behind.

You sighed as you got out of your car and walked over to where Penny was sitting at the table. 

You placed your aviators on your head, “I’m not late am I?” Penny chuckled and shook her head, “Just in time. Want a beer before you go?” You shook your head, “Nah, I’m okay right now. Care to watch my stuff?” 

The brunette gestured to the items in front of her, chuckling, “I’m watchin’ everyone else's. I don’t see why not.” You chuckled and sat your wallet, phone, and keys down, as well as your sunglasses. You slipped off your shorts, folding them and laying them down.

“Nivans!” 

You turned at the call of your last name, brows raised in curiosity. 

 It was Maverick. 

“Hurry up and get down here!”

You turned to Penny, “This is gonna be fun.” You both laughed before you jogged across the sand to meet everyone by the water. 

“Sorry I’m late, Mav.” 

Maverick shook his head, “You’re not late, Rockstar. Can’t be late for fun.” 

“Not gonna take your t-shirt off?” Phoenix asked when you stood beside her. You shook your head, “Nah, I’m good.” 

Hangman sighed, “That’s a shame.” 

You chuckled at him and bent down to throw a handful of sand at him. 

“Watch it, Rockstar,” Hangman said, his voice light as he glared at you playfully.

“Or what, Hangman?” You challenged, eyes narrowed but a smile pulled at your lips.

Now, you and Hangman joked like this all the time. You considered each other best friends, which confused everyone else on base. 

Jake Seresin was an asshole. He was cocky and arrogant. You, Y/N Nivans, were not an asshole. Quite the opposite, actually. 

You were humble while still knowing your worth, but also showing anybody up if they proposed a challenge, and not being sour when you lost. 

Jake went out looking for competition, you let it come to you. 

You were also probably the sweetest thing to walk the planet. Most certainly the sweetest to walk the airstrip. 

You were nice to everyone, always giving someone the benefit of the doubt until they truly proved they were an asshole. 

You also took care of your team, they were your family. You always had the door open if someone needed to talk. Your arms were wide open when they showed up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare and couldn’t shake it. You were their rock.

So, when you walked into the Hard Deck that first day of the Uranium Mission and hugged Hangman, everyone was confused — except Coyote who knew you from a year prior. But they didn’t verbally question you, choosing instead to ponder in private.

Hangman sighed, “Come on, Rocky. You're giving your enemy the advantage.” He tugged at your shirt and pulled you into his arms. 

You laughed and pushed him away by his chest, “You’re gonna have to catch me first.” Hangman cocked his head to the side, “Oooh, that’s how it is?” You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips, “That’s how it is.” 

You panted as you used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face. 

When you let go of your shirt you raised your arms, calling for the ball. They threw it to you and you took off for your endzone. 

You felt the sand shift and you knew Hangman was behind you. You had to get rid of the ball, so you called out to your teammate, “Phoenix!” She ran ahead of you and you threw her the ball.

As soon as the ball was out of your hand, Hangman tackled you to the ground. 

You laughed as you laid on your stomach, arms out in front of you. 

“What was that about ‘catching you’?” Jake grunted from above you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Haha, very funny Hangman. Now get off, you’re heavy.” 

“First, ouch. Second, nah, you’re comfy.” You laughed and shook your head, attempting to push off the ground and basically buck him off. 

But, Hangman wouldn’t let you, laughing as he moved and made you fall back down.

In this new position, Hangman was putting pressure on a certain part of your back and panic shot through you. 

“Seriously, dude, get up,” you tried to say with a laugh, not wanting to sound rude or like you were mad at him. He just smiled and rested his chin on his hands. 

You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, but the waves hitting you pushed you over the edge. 

“Jake, get the fuck off me.” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you were panicking.

Jake was surprised by your tone, along with the use of his first name. He immediately got up and held out a hand for you to take but you just got up and ran to the table. 

“Rockstar, where you going?” Maverick asked. You called out while still running, “I need a break for a minute.” 

You got to the table, “Is it unlocked?” Penny nodded, “Yeah, why?” “Bathroom break.” Penny just nodded again and watched you take your sunglasses with you as you jogged inside.

Rooster ran over and hit Jake’s arm, “What did you do, Hangman?” Jake shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He put his hands on his hips and watched you disappear into the bar. 

He felt bad, he wanted to chase after you and apologize but he didn’t know what he did. 

“Well, you seemed to piss her off,” Phoenix said, shoving the ball into his chest. 

Maverick looked at Penny but she just shrugged, meaning you didn’t say much.

You ran into the bathroom, throwing yourself into a stall.  

You leaned over the toilet and waited to throw up. Tears had started running down your face the minute you stepped in the bar. You coughed and sobbed lightly as you tried to control your breathing. 

After a few minutes of that, the nausea subsided and you slowly stood to go to the sink. 

You turned the cold water on and splashed your face. 

“Shit…” 

You closed your eyes as the tight feeling in your chest loosened. You let out a shaky breath and looked in the mirror, cringing at the puffiness around your eyes. You grabbed your sunglasses and slipped them on before leaving the bathroom.

When you stepped outside you saw Maverick and Penny talking, and when you sat down they stopped talking and looked at you concerned. 

“You alright? Gave Hangman quite the scare for a second,” Mav asked, squaring his shoulders to you. You nodded, resting your forearms on the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rubbed your forehead, “Hey Pen-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, a beer was sat in front of you, causing you to giggle, “Read my mind.”

As he continued to play, Jake still couldn’t get over the fact that you called him ‘Jake’ during a day out. 

It wasn’t that you never did, but it was rare that you called anyone by their first name. 

But it wasn’t just that, it was the way you said that really made him worry. He had never heard your voice sound like that before.

He looked at you from his spot on the beach, noticing you didn’t come back to join in the fun. 

Hangman walked up to Phoenix, worried that he had really upset you and wanted help from the girl you were closest to. “You don’t really think I pissed her off, do you?” 

She sighed, “I don’t know, Hangman. Even if you did, I doubt she could stay mad at you for long. She can't be mad at anyone for very long.”

Jake nodded and watched you stand up from your spot at the table.

You finished your beer and stood up, “I’m gonna head out.” 

Maverick frowned, “You sure you’re okay, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just really need to shower. I’ve got sand in places sand shouldn’t be,” you said with a light laugh. 

“Okay, drive safe. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Yes, sir.” You collected your stuff and headed to your car.

Jake noticed you leaving and tilted his head, “Hey…” He patted Coyote on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” 

He jogged up to the table to ask Maverick if he knew anything.

“Is she okay?” Hangman asked as soon as he came to a stop. Maverick shrugged, not looking up at the pilot, “She seemed okay. Said she needed to shower.” 

Jake let out a breath, “So she isn’t mad at me?” 

“I didn’t say that. But as far as I can tell, she’s just tired.” 

Jake licked the sweat off his upper lip, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down. 

“Hangman, honey, just go talk to her. If she’s upset with you, she’ll be honest about it,” Penny encouraged, giving Jake a small smile. He nodded and jogged to go find you before you left. 

You were standing by your car, the door opened as you moved to get in when he approached. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake called as he walked over to you. You smiled, “Hey, Hangman.” 

Jake swallowed, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just messing around. I did-” 

You held your hand up, cutting him off, “Jake, I’m not mad at you. I know you were just playing. But your tackle jump started my bladder and I wasn’t kidding when I said you were heavy.” You giggled a bit to show him you were teasing.

Hangman visibly relaxed at the sound, “Okay, good. I know I like to get under everyone’s skin. Sometimes I don’t know when to knock it off. I–” 

You held up your hand, cutting him off. “Jake, I can handle your teasing. Yeah, you can get a little mean. But I know it’s all a big show. Come here,” you opened your arms and made grabby hands at Jake. 

He just shook his head and chuckled, pulling you in by your outstretched hands and letting them find their place around his built torso. 

He rubbed his hand on your back, nearly missing the slight tensing right beneath your shoulder blades before they relaxed. His brow furrowed but he didn’t mention it, thinking that maybe it was you tightening your arms around him. 

He kissed the top of your head before you pulled away. 

“Geez, Jake, you’re sweaty.” 

“You’re not too dry yourself, Rockstar.” You laughed and playfully shoved him away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” You smiled and slid into your car, “I’ll kick your ass tomorrow Hangman.” 

He scoffed leaning on the roof of your car and the open door. “Since when did you get so cocky?” 

You smirked and placed your glasses on your head, forgetting that your eyes could still be red and puffy from earlier. “It’s not cocky if it’s the truth.” 

Jake shook his head and looked back to the shore. “Uh-huh. We’ll see.” He leaned back and patted the top of your car. “Drive safe.” You nodded, and he closed your door. 

He watched you start it up before driving away.

Jake shook his head and made his way back to the group.

Speaking of the group, they had all noticed the change in Jake when you showed up at the Hard Deck a few months ago. 

While he was still his cocky self, having no shame in bragging and trash talking, he seemed to tone it down when you were around.

They also noticed how he always made sure to find you in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. Coyote joked that you had Hangman wrapped around your finger, that he would be at your side with a simple look. 

Jake was painfully aware of the effect you had on him. 

When he met you a year ago, he was starstruck by your dazzling smile. 

So, naturally, in true Hangman fashion, he flirted with you. 

With a toothpick between his perfect white teeth and his bright green eyes shining under the yellow lights of the bar, he walked up to you. 

“I sure hope no one left you alone.” 

When you turned, eyeing him up and down to take in the uniform, beer bottle popping as it left your mouth, his breath was ripped from his lungs. 

“Well, you’re here now. I’m not alone.” 

Seeing your smile up close caused Hangman to blush, and leaving him thankful that his tan could somewhat hide it. 

“Well, ain’t I special.” 

You nodded, giggling while looking down at the bar, “That you are. But, before this can go any further, I’m gonna be honest, I’m more dedicated to my work than anything else at the moment. And I have to be up by 5, so I’d hate to lead you on.” 

Jake shook his head, but you continued, gesturing around the bar, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love to get attention from you and give you attention.” 

Jake smiled –not smirked, smiled– while leaning on the bar, “Well, the only one I want attention from is you. Plus, I can’t stay out too late either. Gotta be at work early too, so I guess we’re both clocking in early.” 

None of the feelings that day had been one sided. You also had been starstruck by Hangman. 

He was broad shoulder, tall, tan, and had a voice that could make a girl swoon in a second. But you knew he was a pilot, his uniform gave it away, and you knew how they acted. Except, you liked Jake’s company and decided to talk all night with him. 

Ironically, what you both did for work never came up.

So, imagine the look on Jake’s face when he saw you the next day in your flight suit. 

“You didn’t tell me you were a pilot.” 

You smirked, “You didn’t ask.” 

He shook his head, biting his lower lip to hide his smile but failed. 

You nodded to him, “What do they call you?” 

“Hangman. What about you?” You smiled, “Rockstar.” 

You were able to peg why he earned his callsign very early on but he couldn’t seem to figure yours out. 

Until he had a close call and couldn’t shake it.

The last day of training had just ended, tomorrow you might not come home, and to say you were nervous was a major understatement. 

As you changed to get ready to go out with the squad, you couldn’t stop shaking. You knew you needed a drink… okay a couple drinks.

While you changed, Hangman was walking around, looking for you. 

When he walked past the locker room, he caught a glimpse of you reaching to pick something up.

He turned to walk in, but stopped when he saw that you only had your pants on. But, before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed up your back; starting from above your waistline on your pants and going up. 

Then he stopped, his eyes widening when he saw the large scar that looked fairly new – maybe a year or so old. It spanned from the middle of your left shoulder blade to nearly below your ribcage and was positioned diagonally across your back. 

Jake quickly looked away, realizing that you must have not wanted anyone to see it if you hadn’t told him. 

His brow furrowed as questions ran through his mind. Was that why you freaked out during dogfight football, the other day? Why you always tense up when you get an unexpected touch there? 

Shit… He thought, feeling like a horrible friend for never noticing and never asking. 

Jake took a deep breath and walked away, choosing to approach the locker room differently and pretend he never saw you. 

He put on a smile and walked back towards the locker room, “Hey, Rockstar! You almost ready?” He stopped just short of the door, leaning his back against the wall. 

Your head jerked up as you pulled your t-shirt down. “Uh, yeah, Hangman. I’ll be ready in a second.” 

You finished getting ready and walked out, jumping slightly when he pushed off the wall. 

“Geez Hang, don’t do that!” You punched his arm. 

“Gosh, I forgot how hard you punch.” He chuckled and rubbed the spot on his arm as you both walked to the parking lot.

You all sat in the Hard Deck, drinking and playing pool.

“Dude, she’s kicking your ass!” Payback laughed as he clapped Hangman on the shoulder. 

You were, in fact, kicking Jake’s ass in pool. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the blond narrowed his eyes at Payback. 

“Yeah, you feelin’ okay? You’ve been off your game tonight Bagman,” Rooster commented, smirking as he drank his alcohol. 

Instead of clapping back at the jab, Jake just rolled his eyes and lined up his shot. 

That made you frown, Hangman always had a comeback. Always had sarcastic quips to embarrass the other person. But he was silent. 

You made eye contact when he stood, silently asking if he was okay. He just nodded and moved to sink another pool ball. 

You didn’t want to drop it, but you did for the sake of having fun before facing the chance of death tomorrow.

Sometime later, after a few rounds of pool and drinks, you all stood around and just talked.

“Hey, did you guys hear about that one pilot that saved her WSO’s life when they got shot down?” Bob asked, looking around the group. 

You clenched your jaw slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice. 

“Bob, that happens all the time. It’s kinda what we do,” Phoenix said, squeezing his shoulder. 

Rooster stood up and sat his beer down. “No, not the way this pilot did. Bob, I know who you’re talking about. I read the mission file, the only thing that was classified was the pilot and WSO’s names.” 

You swirled the beer in your glass, not looking up from the amber liquid. “Did the pilot survive?” 

When you finished asking, you looked up, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of Hangman as you met Rooster’s eyes. 

The latter nodded, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. But she had a pretty serious injury. I’m not sure if she was ever clear to fly again.” 

You nodded and looked back down at your glass. 

“And the WSO?” Jake asked, eyeing you as you downed the rest of your drink before looking at Rooster and Bob. 

“He survived. But I don’t know if he still flies,” Bob answered. 

“Well, that’s good that they both survived,” you said, your smile returning to your face. 

Rooster shook his head a bit, “Yeah, but that pilot pulled a risky move. Saving some like that…” 

Your smile dropped a bit, “People have their reasons.” You raised your glass, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Hangman watched you leave as the conversation changed into something more light hearted. 

Jake took a step to go after you but Coyote caught his arm. “Hey, come on. Play me in a round of pool. Let’s see if you still got your game.” Jake looked from his friend back to you and saw you laughing with Penny and Maverick at the bar. That allowed him to relax a little bit. 

“Oh, I still got my game. Let’s see if you found yours,” he smirked. “There he is!” Coyote laughed and clapped Jake on the back.

As Jake played pool with Coyote, you talked with Penny and Maverick. 

“Are you serious?” 

You nodded, laughing at Penny’s reaction to you telling her how you and Jake met. 

“Pen, why are you surprised? Hangman flirts with every girl,” Maverick said, using his hand to point the direction of the mentioned pilot. You and Penny both nodded your agreement. 

“Sounds familiar,” Penny says, a playful grin on her face making Maverick roll his eyes.

You had become so invested in your conversation with Penny and Mav, that you missed Rooster coming up behind you.

He placed his hand on your back, right on your scar, making you tense and jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’ Rocky,” he took his hand off and leaned on the bar. 

“You doin’ okay? You seemed a bit…” He glanced back at the group, thinking of the right word. “...tense a minute ago.” 

You bit the inside of your lip, had you really been that obvious? 

Still, you nodded and gave him your best smile. 

But to him, he could see that it didn’t reach your eyes. He may not have been your best friend, but he had seen plenty of your genuine smiles and this one did not make your eyes shine like the others. 

Bradley decided not to press, “Okay…” He turned to Penny, “Penny, could we get another round?” The bartender nodded, “Of course, but you’re reaching your cut off.” 

Penny had set a cut off for drinks for the pilots not wanting them to go into this mission hungover. You chuckled and glanced back at the group, all of them messing around and having fun. “Yes ma’am.” 

You turned to Rooster and then back down to your empty glass. Penny hadn’t refilled it yet, having started a conversation with you as soon as you came over. 

You glanced at your watch, seeing that you had been there for a couple hours. 

Penny sat a tray down, placing the full glasses on top. “There you are, Rooster. Who’s tab?”

Rooster opened his mouth to tell her to put it on his, but you beat him to it, “Put it on mine Pen.” 

“You got the last round, Rockstar,” Rooster argued. You shrugged, “I don’t mind. Plus, I’m closing my tab for tonight.” 

“What? You’re heading out already?” You nodded, sliding Penny your card, “I’m hitting my limit, Roos.” 

Bradley searched your eyes for a moment, looking for any indication that something was wrong.

You were usually the one that made sure everyone was okay to go home and if they needed rides; so leaving early rung bells in Rooster’s head. 

Penny gave you your card and receipt, “Thank you.” “Thanks Pen,” you gave her a smile before turning back to Rooster. 

“Tell ‘em I’m heading out. I know if I do it I won’t be able to leave.” You gave him a one armed hug and turned to Maverick, “See you in the morning, Captain.” 

“See you in the morning, Rockstar.” 

Penny gently squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile as you slid off the bar stool and walked out. 

Rooster, Maverick, and Penny watched you leave the building before turning to each other, concern written all over their faces. 

“Is she okay? She’s been acting a little off ever since dogfight football the other day,” Penny asked the two pilots. 

They both shrugged, Bradley looking up at her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’ve noticed, but I thought it was just because Harvard and Yale had to eject the other day,” Mav admitted. “We were all a little shaken up by that…” 

It was silent for a minute. 

“You know… if one person knows anything, it’d probably be Seresin,” Penny said, pointing over to the pilot, who was very invested in the game he was winning, and basically suggesting that they talk to him. 

Bradley sighed, knowing that Penny was right and if anyone knew you the best, it would be him. He grabbed the tray, thanking Penny and walking over to the group.

They all cheered when he sat the tray down, taking a glass for themselves. 

Jake noticed that there was an extra and he frowned in confusion before he realized it was for you. 

He looked up, eyes searching for you in the crowd, panicking a little when he couldn’t see you, “Where’s Rockstar?” 

Rooster sighed, “She closed her tab and left. Said she reached her limit.” 

Fanboy frowned a little bit, “Why didn’t she just tell us herself?” 

Rooster shrugged, “Said if she did it would take longer for her to leave.” 

“Does she seem different to you guys?” Coyote asked, finally voicing his concern that had buit up over the last few days. 

The group shared a look before making small noises of agreement. 

“I mean, she’s still the same Y/N. Still lighting up a room and being there for us like she always has been… I just… I don’t know.” 

Rooster looked at Jake, “Hangman, you’re like her best friend, do you know anything?” 

Jake shrugged and shook his head, “All I know is she’s nervous for tomorrow and the accident the other day shook her up a bit, but she hasn’t said anything else.” 

He took a large gulp from his beer, hoping to swallow the confession of seeing your scar that he wanted to bring to light.  You trusted Jake and he wasn’t about to ruin that by telling the squad what he saw when he wasn’t even supposed to know it was there.

Meanwhile, you walked the beach, taking in the fresh and salty air. You just needed the quiet time before you went home.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, seeing a text from Hangman and laughing slightly at the message.

Hangboy: Hey, I get that I kicked your ass those last few rounds of pool, but you could have told me you were leaving. I would have walked you out. Text me when you get home. 

Also, there was an extra beer. I assume it was meant for you, but you left so I drank it. Don’t worry though, I can handle it.

You shook your head and opened your phone, but not to text Jake.

You went to your contacts and pressed the caller ID, putting the phone to your ear as it rang. 

“Hey, Rockstar, what's up? It’s been awhile.” 

You smiled, sighing, “Sure has been, Tundra. How are you? How’s the little one?” “I’m good. Ben is great, he wants to know when you’ll be by again to visit.” 

You giggled at the fact the 6 year old wanted to see you. “Soon… hopefully.” “Y/N, I know that voice. Is it happening again?” You shook your head, despite the fact that Tundra couldn’t see you. 

“No, no. Well, sorta, but this is different Diego.” You heard him shift, presumably crossing his arms. “What do you mean?” 

You sighed, remembering that you couldn’t share all that much about the mission, even if he was former Navy. 

“I don’t know how much I can tell you. But I got called back to TopGun, and I could be flying out on a mission tomorrow. A dangerous one.” 

“Y/N, do they know?” 

You shook your head again, this time to fight tears. “No, but I’m scared that mid air, I’m gonna freeze. I don’t wanna freeze, Diego. I haven’t frozen since our incident. But I don’t know what’s been wrong these past couple of weeks. I can’t seem to shake off this dread… this-this fear. I do-don’t-” 

He cut you off, “Have you talked to anyone recently?” 

You were silent and he took that as a no. “Y/N, you have to talk about it if you ever want to move past it.”  “I did though. I had mandated therapy for my entire time in recovery.” “And have you been since you recovered?”

You threw a hand up, frustrated, “I thought I was past it! I hadn’t had an attack in a year, not until we were playing football. I-I thought it was just a one time thing, and then something happened during training and I just-” 

You were cut off by a small, tired voice. 

“Is that Aunt Y/N?” 

“It is. Do you want to talk to her? I think she needs to talk to you.” “Yes, please!” You smiled as you heard the phone go to speaker and then be passed to the little boy. 

“Hey, Aunt Y/N!” 

You smiled, tears finally falling, “Benarino, hey buddy.” “I miss you. When are you coming to visit?” You wiped at your eyes with a shaking hand. “Soon, buddy. Really soon,” you sniffled. 

“Aunt Y/N, why are you crying?” 

You laughed, coughing a little at the end, “I just really miss you Benny. I can’t wait to see you.” 

You looked back at the Hard Deck, seeing your fellow pilots laugh and sing. 

“I’m gonna bring a friend too. If that’s okay with your mom and dad?” “That’s alright with me, Rockstar. I’m sure Lila won’t mind.” 

“Who is it?” 

You brought playfulness into your voice, “You remember the pilot I told you about? The one that thought he could fly better than your Aunt Rocky?” 

The little boy giggled, “Yeah!” “Well, I think it’s about time you brought home the boy that stole your heart.” 

“Diego,” you hissed. “We are just friends.” “Mhmm, sure.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You should probably get Ben to bed before Lila wakes up.” 

You heard Diego grunt as he picked up his son, “Goodnight Benny Boy.” “G’night Aunt Y/N.” 

“Call me when you make it back.” You nodded, hand sliding into your back pocket, “Yeah, of course. Night Tundra.” “Night Rockstar.” 

The call ended and you slid your phone into your unoccupied back pocket.

You took in a deep breath, trying to relax again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out. 

On an inhale, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils and it made you hold your breath.

Quickly looking around, you spotted a bonfire a couple yards away. Realizing it was harmless, you let out the breath and tried to relax your shoulders.

But, despite knowing it was completely harmless, your body went into a state of panic. Your chest tightened, limbs went numb, pain spread through your back, and tears filled your eyes. 

You held a hand to your chest, the air stopping just before it made it to your lungs, and stumbled to your car as fast as you could, hoping you weren’t seen by your friends inside the bar.

Jake looked at his phone as he left the bar. You hadn’t texted him, and by now you definitely should have been back to your on base bungalow. 

Hangman wasn’t going to panic, he knew you well enough that you would have texted or called him if something bad happened. Of course he felt anxious, who wouldn’t, but he was going to remain calm. 

The reason you hadn’t texted him when you got home was because the moment you fumbled yourself into your place, you booked it for the bathroom. 

Your knees smacked into the tile and you threw up whatever alcohol you had consumed before the strangled sob ripped itself from your throat. You crumbled to the tile as your chest refused to let air in. 

Your skin felt hot and sticky, sweat coating it as you laid on your bathroom floor. It wasn’t helping you, your damp, hot skin sending you back to one of the worst days of your life.

So, in a frenzy, you ripped off your shirt and kicked off your shoes and socks before yanking your pants off, not even loosening your belt. 

You crawled over the tub wall, too dizzy to properly stand, before fumbling with the knob to turn the water on. 

Once you got it turned on, you jostled the faucet switch, a desperate sob escaping as it kept falling down before it finally stuck, turning the shower on and drenching you in water.

And that was how Jake found you.

Jake decided to stop by your place and check on you, that being his only option to get his anxiety to go away. 

When he pulled up to your place and saw your car there, he let out a breath of relief. 

He parked his truck behind your car and ran to your door, his chest lighter than before.

But his chest became heavy again when he made it to your door only to find it unlocked. You rarely left your door unlocked, if ever.

He cautiously pushed it open, looking around to see if anything was out of place. 

Your keys were on the floor, your phone and wallet not too far from them. 

Jake walked further in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him. 

He held his breath as he looked for you. But his search was cut short when he heard the shower running. 

He exhaled and had to take a minute to calm the drumming in his chest. 

He cautiously walked to the bathroom, making sure to knock before walking in. He kept his head down so he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to… again. 

“Hey I was-” 

The door stopped, hitting something on the floor. 

Hangman squinted his eyes in confusion. It was your shoe. He kicked it out of the way and pushed the door open enough for him to just step in and close it. 

He stopped with his hand on the door, realizing that the room didn’t feel like a sauna. There was no fog covering the mirrors and steam wasn’t filling the small space. You always showered hot, and right now the bathroom was freezing. 

Jake finally looked up and saw you curled in the shower, the water cascading from the faucet and hitting your back. It was obvious you had been there for a while because you were shivering. 

Jake sat on the edge of the tub cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

His heart broke at the sound of your quiet crying and the puffy redness of your eyes was a sight Jake never wanted to see again.

The eyes that usually held the brightness of the stars and a kindness that was unmatched, were now red, distant, and constantly filled with tears that fell over and mixed with the water drenching you. 

He hated it.

Jake held his hand under the water and recoiled at how cold it was. 

“Shit,” he cursed as he quickly turned it off. 

When you didn’t react, he knew you truly weren’t in this reality. 

“Y/N,” he spoke gently and touched your arm. He sharply inhaled when he discovered how cold you were. “Y/N, darlin’, we need to dry you off and get you in some warm clothes. You’ll get sick.” 

Jake wasn’t sure if you heard him because you just stared ahead, biting on your nail. He sighed and pulled your hand away from your mouth. 

He moved to pull his hand back but you grabbed it, your freezing cold hand latching onto his warm one. “Please don’t… Jake, please don’t leave.” 

Your voice was quiet and broken, raw with fear. And he was sure that sent a shiver up his back.

Jake quickly shifted to kneel beside the tub, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand. “I’d never leave you hangin’.” 

He looked you over, “Can I pick you up?” You nodded, letting his hand slip from your grip and feel it wrap under your legs.

He awkwardly shifted to lean over and pick you up, grunting a little as stood up. He was too pressed about his clothes getting wet, he’s sure he’s got pants somewhere around here.

Jake managed to open the bathroom door and walked to your bedroom. 

He sat you on the bed and quickly grabbed the towel on the back of your desk chair. 

Wrapping it around you, Jake kissed the top of your head. “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he spoke gently against your hair.

He pulled back and watched you bite your lip to keep your tears hidden.

You avoided his eyes, looking at your shaking hands. 

“I’m gonna get you some clothes, okay?” You slowly nodded, lip trembling before you bit down on it again.

Your eyes didn’t follow him as he walked around your room, but your ears were very aware of Jake’s noises; everything from his footsteps to his mumbling. 

In under five minutes, neatly folded clothes were placed beside you and Jake kneeled in front of you, his large hands resting on your biceps gently. 

“Do you want me to stay while you change?” 

It took you a second to register what he had asked, but he was patient and rubbed reassuring circles on your arms with his thumbs. 

You inhaled, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you down a bit. 

You were tempted to say yes, you didn’t want to be alone but you also didn’t want Jake to see you any more vulnerable than he already has. 

You shook your head, unconsciously pulling the towel tighter around you. 

Jake noticed it and nodded, “Okay, I’ll go tidy up your bathroom and throw some blankets in the dryer to fluff them up and get ‘em warm.” He gave you a small smile and stood, leaving the room and the door open just a crack.

You managed to peel off the wet bra and underwear, drying off before changing. 

That simple task was exhausting. It felt like your bones had turned to rocks and your muscles no longer existed. But eventually, you did it.

You haphazardly dried your hair, basically just dry enough to where it wasn’t dripping, and walked into the small living room. 

You sat on the couch, deciding to occupy your hands with your oversized shirt while you waited for Jake. 

Minutes later he was on the couch beside you, wrapping you in the fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket. 

“Thank you…” Your voice had a rawness to it that made Jake shiver, something was really wrong and he didn’t know how to help.

He nodded and rubbed your upper back, “Of course.”

He sat there for a moment, just listening to your sniffles and weeping exhales, before finally turning to face you. 

“What’s going on? ‘Cause this-” He gestured to you and your current state. “-is way more than just nerves for tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be-” 

“If you say ‘fine’, I swear,” he sighed to control his volume. “Y/N, you are not fine.” 

“Jake…”

The blond pilot took a deep breath, looking at the sliver of couch cushion between you. “I saw it…” 

If you weren’t going to be honest, then he needed to be. Maybe what he saw is connected to what was shaking you to your core all of a sudden.

He finally looked up at you and watched your breathing halt as fear filled your eyes. 

Jake continued, making sure to keep his tone even, “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for you in the locker room today and I-” He stopped talking when you choked out a small cry. 

He immediately pulled you into his lap, one hand going to the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your lower back. “I got you… I got you.”

Jake closed his eyes and rocked you a little as his mind went back to the day these roles were reversed.

Jake had sat in the locker room, flight suit half off and tied around his waist. His knee bouncing as his eyes went in and out of focus. 

“Hangman!” You called as you ran down the hall. But he couldn’t hear you with the blood still rushing in his ears. 

“Hangman! Hang- There you are!” You jogged to him and saw that his emerald eyes were blank, not the playful or confident eyes you normally saw. “Hey, Hang- Jake what’s wrong?” You knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it.

Jake looked at you, the concern swimming in your eyes breaking whatever resolve he had left. 

The tears he tried so hard to hold in finally spilled down his cheeks. 

You instantly cupped his face in your hands, wiping them away, “What’s got you so shaken up? I’ve never seen you like this.” 

He shook his head, pushing your hands away as he sat up and leaned against the locker. “You’re not supposed to.” 

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, “What happened up there?” 

Jake wiped the still flowing tears, shaking his head, “I don’t know. I guess- Fuck I don’t know, Rockstar.” 

You stood, “Talk to me, Jake. Please, I’m your friend and I want to help.” 

Your tone was desperate and worried. This was a new version of Jake that you would have never seen if you hadn’t followed him off the tarmac.

Hangman finally got the guts to grab your hand and squeeze it. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself. 

“I almost lost you up there. You’re one of my closest friends, we’ve only known each other for a few months and I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I never let myself be that close to anyone, but you made it so easy.” 

His voice was raw and shaky. He was scared, but you couldn’t blame him. What just happened to you both was really intense and it was scary. But you were both okay.

You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft but encouraging smile. 

“Can we just- Shit this is gonna sound so weird…” 

You knew where he was going, so you straddled his legs and wrapped him in a hug. “I got you Jake, I got you.”

That was when Jake realized the backstory to your call sign. You were everyone’s rock. You kept everyone sane, even at the expense of yourself.

Which is why you were currently shaking and sobbing in his arms. You never sought out comfort for your problems, a bad habit you picked up in high school. You always put everyone first, and you had it in your head that you couldn’t be vulnerable. 

You pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes, “I’m sorry…” 

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” 

“Because I-” 

“Because you’re being vulnerable in front of someone?” You nodded, unconsciously playing with your fingers. “Look at me, please.” You did, biting your lip to hold your tears in. 

“You are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared. You shouldn’t have to hide your feelings from your friends. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to us.” 

You nodded, staying silent, focusing on how Jake had moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek to rub his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone. 

Your silence broke his heart a little bit, making him think you didn’t trust him. But he knew he had to be patient with you. 

He goes to move his hand away but you hold it there. “I thought I was over it…” 

“Over what, Sweetheart?” 

“The accident…” 

Jake pushed some hair behind your ear, “What accident?” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped them away as he spoke softly, “Take your time…” You nodded, swallowing as you tried to catch your bearings. 

“A year before I was stationed with you, I was flying a mission. It was dangerous, but still fairly routine. On my way out, I got hit. It completely destroyed my weapons system. Before I could get back up, I was hit again. This time it took out my engine.” You took another deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. 

“We were dropping altitude fast and my WSO and I had to eject. We landed on a beach, we unbuckled so fast,” you chuckled, remembering the relief you and Diego felt before the shit hit the fan.

Jake smiled a little bit at the sound, but dropped it when you started talking again.

“However the jet had also crashed onto the beach too. The fuel had leaked and caused an explosion. I covered my WSO, and a piece of scrap metal lodged itself into my back.” 

Jake’s eyes widened, more dots connecting in his mind, “You’re the pilot the squad was talking about at the bar…” 

You nodded, wiping your eyes, “Jake, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just… when I was in recovery, if I wanted to fly again, I had to go through therapy. And I haven’t had an attack in a year…” You got choked up again, hot tears rolling down your face, “Hang, I’m so sorry.” 

He shook his head, using both of his hands to wipe your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry. Do I wish you would have told me sooner? Hell yeah, but I understand why you didn’t.” You just nodded and relaxed into his hands.

“What happens when you have an attack?” 

You took a sharp inhale through your nose before sighing it out, “It depends. I sometimes get flashbacks of the beach, everytime I close my eyes I just see fire and it’s fucking terrifying. Other times, when it gets really bad, I can feel pain in my back, but that’s rare.” 

You bit your lip a little as you looked away, and Jake knew, “That happened tonight didn’t it?” You nodded, coughing a little bit, “Yeah, uh, yeah it did.” 

“Was it because we talked about-” 

“No," you said quickly. "W-well, I mean kinda… yeah. But there was a bonfire happening on the beach, and just the two things… my brain went into panic mode. Before you ask, I don’t really know what triggers it. But during dogfight football-” 

Jake’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” 

“Exactly, Jake, you had no idea. It’s not your fault. It was just the pressure on my scar made me panic, and I was back on that damned beach. But I’m not mad or upset with you because you had no idea. So don’t beat yourself up, please.” 

Jake nodded, bringing you into a hug again, being mindful of the scar. “Jake, you can touch it. I know I’m safe.” He said nothing and brought a hand to run over the covered scar before tightening his hug. 

“Can you tell me about him? Your WSO?” 

You nodded, “Diego Harding, call sign Tundra. He has a wife and a son.”

“That’s why you-” 

“Yeah, that’s why I covered him. He had a family to go back to.” 

“What about you?” 

You sighed again, using Jake’s shoulders to sit up, “Most of my family served. My dad was killed in action when I was young. My mom died when I was a teenager, leaving Piers to raise me for a little bit. Then Piers goes and sacrifices himself… so I didn’t have anyone to come home too.” 

You shrugged and got off his lap, but snuggled into his side.

He rubbed lazy circles on your bicep. “Well now you do.” You looked up at him confused, “What?” 

“You’ve got me to come home to, and I’ve got you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Don’t get sappy on me, Seresin.” He just chuckled.

It was silent for a moment. 

“Promise me that you’ll do your best to fly back to me,” he asked in a hushed whisper as if he were telling you a secret.

“Only if you do,” you whispered back.

He held out his pinky, “I promise.” You nodded, interlocking your pinky with his, “I promise too.” 

“Can’t break that now, you know,” he chuckled, squeezing your pinky a little. You giggled a little before yawning, “I know, cowboy.”

my little cassettes <33: @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @criminallyhamilfan13 @lynnevanss @lovinglyeternal @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @teacupsandtopgun @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @djs8891 @nobody7102 @bobby-r2d2-floyd @mongoosesthings

i apologize if i missed anyone! if you're not on here and wish to be, please fill out my taglist form! -> hello!!

even if you already are here, please fill it out so i can keep track!

love you guys! 💜

[noxturnalnymph]

Devotion 🖤 III. Path to the Future (Ch 10)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: canon-typical violence/death, guns, blood/injury⚠️

PREVIOUS

III. Path to the Future

CH 10 (7.1k) Joel’s head snaps up, waking him from the sleep he didn’t realize he had fallen into. He looks directly across from him and meets Skinny’s sleepy-eyes, seemingly having just been woken up as well. They both sit frozen for a moment, startled still by the noise that woke them up. There are muffled screams coming from behind where Joel is tied up. Your screams. 

Another beat passes and Skinny jumps up, grabbing the knife - Joel’s knife - off the ground, running back behind Joel’s chair. He hears grunting and cursing, a nasally voice hollering Mike, hey, Mikey, and then your panicked cries. What the fuck is happening? Joel tries to turn in the chair and look behind him but his bindings are too tight to move. He tries to move his hands towards his pants to reach for that knife he has tucked inside them but goddamnit, he’s tied up so fuckin’ tight his hands don’t budge at all.

More shuffling and crying behind him, Skinny cursing and shuffling around, then the slapping of bare feet on the wood floor, and you appear before him. Holy shit. You’re covered in blood. Not just a little bit, but an entire body’s worth of blood. You’re wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Every inch of your exposed skin is tinted red, your hair and clothes still wet, the bottom of the shirt dripping onto the floor, pooling at your feet which have left a trail of bloody footprints behind you. Only the whites of your eyes stand out, wide open in horror.

“What did you do?” your voice trembles.

“W- What?” Joel sputters. “What th- are you okay?”

Skinny’s shoes come squeaking up behind him, Joel can hear him panting, and can feel the kid’s quick, panicked exhales blowing hot on the back of his neck. He checks and rechecks Joel’s bindings, pulling and pushing on all of the ropes. Joel can see his hands are shaking and stained with blood.

“It wasn’t him, he’s still tied up. Besides, I was watchin’ ‘im,” Joel hears Skinny say in a quivering voice, conveniently leaving out the part where he fell asleep in his chair.

Except Joel knows he didn’t do anything, he has - in fact - been strapped to this chair for hours. Where is the Big Guy? Jesus Christ, is that whose blood you’re wearing? He looks you up and down, trying to make sure you’re not wounded and the blood isn’t yours. You’re twitching and hyperventilating but you don’t look like you’re in pain. You suddenly still, and grab your head, horror washing across your crimson face.

“Oh my fucking god, he didn’t come here alone!” you screech, finally waking the sleeping couple on the other side of the room. You point your red finger toward Joel’s face. “Who’s out there?”

“I don’t know what you-”

You slap your open palm across Joel’s cheek, hard. So hard you have to shake your hand afterwards from the sting. The metallic smell of blood overwhelms his senses and Joel’s cheek bites with the sharp pain.

“Quit fucking lying and tell us how many people you brought here,” you hiss, inches from his face now. Your terror-filled eyes bore into his and he remembers how much he missed that wild look you used to give him - but not like this. You look half mad. Joel just stares at you in confused silence. 

“You guys need to check the fucking perimeter,” you scream at the kids standing in the middle of the room staring at you slack-jawed. “Now!” They stumble over chairs, the legs scuffing on the floor as they hastily make their way out of the building. You turn back to Joel but address the silent figure behind him. “Why are you just standing there? You need to get this fucking asshole to talk before they kill us all.”

Skinny rounds the chair and stands in front of Joel, looking much less menacing now that the shit has apparently hit the fan. He’s pale as a ghost, the dark red blood smeared on his still-shaking hands and up his arms making a stark contrast. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows down nothing, trying to gather courage. Hurry up, you whisper behind Skinny, you gotta hurry up. He hesitates in front of Joel, wringing his hands and patting his pockets for his knife.

Then Joel sees the knife, glinting in the moonlight just behind Skinny. In your hand.

You move quickly, drawing the knife deftly across Skinny’s throat, a ruby line forming along his ghastly complexion. Skinny’s eyes go wide as he clutches at his wound, the line dripping and then pouring blood, all over his neck, all over his hands, all over the floor. Several spurts fly out and hit Joel square in the chest. You cut deep. Shallow sounds come out of Skinny’s mouth - no words, just air - as he sinks to his knees. Joel watches him slide in the pool of blood forming on the floor and tip over onto his side, time moving in slow-motion as the life drains from the boy’s eyes in under sixty seconds.

He’s so caught up in watching the light leave Skinny’s eyes that your hand on his arm startles him. He didn’t even notice you’d moved next to him, and he watches you silently cut away several ropes with the bloody knife. He shakes his stiffened shoulders, shrugging off the restraints and pushes his body off the chair, fighting the tightness and pain from sitting tied up for hours. He turns to check on you but he’s immediately distracted by the blood-curdling scream you let out. Instinctively he ducks and swivels, looking around for the threat.

He feels you thrust the knife handle into his hand and he takes it with shaking fingers, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He wipes the handle on his thigh to make sure his grip isn’t compromised by all the blood. You’re still screaming but he can’t see what you see, even with the moonlight illuminating the darkened room he doesn’t see the danger. The two kids come running back into the building and stop short, halfway across the room. The boy slowly raises a rifle up. Joel looks left and then right… then down. Oh. Skinny lies dead at his feet in a pool of blood. Joel is covered in blood spray and holding a knife while you scream bloody-murder behind him. 

He’s the danger.

He looks back up at the couple and sees the boy aiming the rifle at Joel’s head with a tremulous grip. Great, he’s probably gonna miss his head and shoot him in the gut, and Joel’s gonna die a slow and agonizing death by his own fucking rifle at the hands of a chubby-cheeked teenager. What the fuck have you done? Wait, what the fuck are you doing? Joel sees you walking a wide arc around him, skirting towards the couple in the middle of the room, towards your friends. Your friends?

They’re not even looking at you, their focus solely trained on Joel, who has dropped the knife and stands with his arms raised in surrender. He watches you get closer and ease the rifle out of the boy’s hands - which he eagerly allows - happy to give the responsibility of taking a life to someone else, to anyone else. You check the chamber and tuck the rifle butt in the crook of your arm, but instead of turning the gun back on Joel you swivel it right back at the boy and shoot him directly between the eyes. His body falls to the ground with a sickening thump.

The girl yelps from the noise and then - realizing what you’ve done - takes a breath in to let out an anguished cry. Only she never gets the chance. You’ve chambered a new round and aimed the short distance to your next target. Joel hears himself cry out as you pull the trigger, the girl’s body immediately falling over, slumping down onto the ground next to her boyfriend.

You swing the rifle around now and aim it at Joel. His hands go higher in the air. He can’t remember if you were a very good shot when you lived with him, but you’re at a distance now where it would be difficult to miss him either way. He also just watched you murder three people in front of him, so he doesn’t doubt your commitment. You stare down the barrel at him, eyes black and grip steady. Your breathing is even, your demeanor is calm and calculated. You’re still dripping scarlet but gone is the terrified creature from moments ago. Then again, why would you be scared?

You’re the scariest thing in this room right now.

You hold the gun there, aimed at Joel, and he isn’t sure if you’re going to pull the trigger. You didn’t hesitate when you shot the other two, so maybe if you were going to shoot him you would have done it by now. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, drawing it out, making him sweat. He watches your face, passive and unblinking. Maybe this is payback for the way he treated you and all the shit he put you through. Maybe the bullet will be your final revenge. He can’t say he wouldn’t deserve it.

“You didn’t have to kill those kids,” he says, working to appeal to your humanity. “They’d already given you their gun.”

“I did them a favor. They were never gonna make it. They were soft. Weak.”

“So were you, once,” Joel coos.

“Is that what you think?” Your voice is even as you take steps forward until the barrel of the gun touches his chest, right over his beating heart. “I think I just trusted the wrong person.”

You see fear flash in his eyes. Good. He always had a way of underestimating you, of treating you like a delicate little thing. You tried to be good for him, wanted to expose your soft underbelly, felt an unhinged desire to please him, wanted to earn his love and affection. But you weren’t fucking weak, not after everything you’ve been through. It was this man - insistent in his tenderness - who wormed his way past the defenses around your heart, only to turn into a venomous serpent once your walls were down.

“You gonna shoot me, baby?”

Your eye twitches.

“Stop calling me that. I’m not your fucking baby. I saw you holding your baby.” 

You jerk the gun away from his chest, stalking past him and pushing open a second door that had been behind where he was tied up. He turns and watches you walk out into the moonlight, dropping the rifle in the grass as you head towards the lake, stripping off your soiled clothes as you go. You reach the water’s edge and although he knows it must be close to freezing, you march in without hesitation. He watches you until you sink beneath the rippling blackness, bubbles rising where you once walked.

Once you’re submerged in the frigid liquid you let out the scream you’ve been holding in all day, forcing all the air in your lungs out, watching it rise and break at the surface. Fuck this day. Fuck Roy for his sadistic cruelty, your lip stinging again - reopened from your underwater wail. Fuck Mike for trying to put his hands on you in the dry-storage room. He was supposed to help you, not help himself. It could have gone down differently for him. Fuck those kids for blindly trusting you, making it too easy to see your plan through. Joel was right, they were innocent and would have easily surrendered. But it was all fucked, wasn’t it?

In fact, fuck Joel most of all. Fuck him for putting you in this position in the first place. Fuck him for drawing you in and then betraying your trust. Fuck him for continuing to think he deserved you, his obsession with you making it impossible to stop thinking about him. Fuck him for getting whatever he wants, for screwing anything that moved, for putting a baby in Bianca, for wanting anything that isn’t you. Fuck him for driving you away from the only place that felt like home in a very long time, forcing you into this cursed circumstance. Fuck him for every minute of today you had to endure.

Fuck. Him.

You come up for a breath, the chill in the night air sending goosebumps all over you, making your skin sting. You draw your hands across your body, washing the evidence of your violence off of you, before you walk back out of the water. You stride naked and dripping, cold and shivering across the lawn back into the side door of the dining hall. Joel stands right where you left him and watches you pass by him, moving to the dry storage and grabbing your clothes off a high shelf. You get redressed as he watches in silence and then grab the remaining jerky and half jar of pickles from your pack.

You share the midnight snack spread out on a table with Joel among the bodies littering the floor like some kind of macabre picnic.

“Did you know these people?”

“Oh yeah, we go way back,” your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“But they trusted you. They knew you-”

“They knew what I wanted them to know,” you bark.

“And what was that?”

“I told them I could get them to safety, get them fed. I told them I could help them.”

“But why would they believe you?” 

“Because it’s exactly what they wanted to hear, Joel,” you laugh. “You spend a lot of time talking. I know people like you and all, but you don’t do enough listening. I listen to people, I pay attention, and if you listen well enough people will tell you precisely what they want. You can use that to your advantage if you know what you’re doing. You can convince them the thing you want is the same thing they want.”

When you look back at him you catch him looking at you with his mouth ajar. He’s taking in everything you just said and piecing together things in his mind bit by bit. Slowly, an entirely different version of you is coming into focus. He’s been working on manipulating people for years, honing his skills and constantly making adjustments to build up his community for protection. Meanwhile, you’ve done the same thing in under a day. You had these people wrapped around your fucking finger. 

Effortlessly.

He remembers the lengths Tess went through to protect you from him, even going so far as to call her loyalty to him into question. Now that he thinks about it, sending you away to the farm behind his back was probably the only move Tess ever made against him in their entire relationship. Sasha once told him she felt bad for you, since you were so helpless. But you weren’t helpless. You were calculating. Oh my god, was everything a manipulation? Was every tear you shed just a carefully planned design to tug on the heartstrings of those around you?

“Did you listen to Tess?” he asks. 

You slowly nod your head. 

“What did she want?”

“Someone to take care of,” you reply.

Well, shit. You gave Tess what she wanted, didn’t you? And Sasha, what did she want? Probably someone to teach. Raw clay to shape into the huntress she had been taught to be. Based on your performance tonight it looks like that was also a success. He thinks about Amber, bragging about how proud her father Hank was that you were living with them, even if her mother was less than impressed. What were you doing for Hank? Jealousy flares up in his gut, licking like a flame at his insides.

“What about Hank?” he mutters. “What did that holier-than-thou old fool get outta you?”

A sideways smile forms at your mouth at the implication he’s made. You stare dead-eyed at him and let him await your answer, let the possibilities race through his mind, a hot flush creeping up his chest at the idea of another man’s hands on you. After a long pause, you speak.

“A son.”

“A- a what?”

“He had a daughter, made in her mother’s image. He didn’t have a son to work the farm with him.”

“You did that?”

“No,” you laugh to yourself. “But he thought I did.”

“Who did your work if you didn’t?”

“The farmhands,” you shrug. “And before you make another gross insinuation, I didn’t blow them either.”

“And they helped you because…”

“I don’t know,” you sidestep the truth, shoving the last bite of the last pickle in your mouth. You let the sour, salty liquid flood your mouth as you think it over in your head, how much you should tell him, if it’s a secret worth keeping. Finally you come back around to honesty. It doesn’t matter anyways, you don’t live there anymore. “They’re gay... Danny and Diego, they’re gay. They were afraid I’d out them or something so they did all my work for me.”

There it is, more manipulation. You’re like a fucking puppet master, everyone dancing from your hands. Where does it end? Where did it begin, he wonders? He remembers how he found you, clicker on your heels and bleeding out after barely escaping what looked like a hell of a fight. If only you could have convinced the clicker to feel bad for you, it might have been a different outcome.

“Where were you before I found you half-dead at the bottom of a mountain?” Joel asks.

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m curious. You never told me much about your past, but it feels like you wanna open up tonight.”

“That’s not something I’m lookin’ to open up about, Joel. They were very bad people and I was lucky to get away from them.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Good thing you escaped.”

“I didn’t-” you pause. “I didn’t exactly escape.”

“What?” His brows knit, deepening the line between them.

“They let some of us go scouting so we could find other places to raid,” you explain.

“And who, may I ask, convinced them of this idea?” 

He already knows the answer.

“I might have brought some of the finer points of the plan to the table,” you shrug.

This is it. This is how you’ve survived the last nine years. You refuse to carry a knife, you can barely cook a meal without cutting or burning yourself, he doesn’t even think you can start a fire on your own. But you’ve gotten other people to take care of you, feeding off them like a little parasite, intertwining their survival with your own. 

“You’re-”

Genius. Maniacal. Sensational. Devious. Fantastic.

You’re everything he’s been trying to be.

“I’m- …what?” you ask him to finish his thought.

“You’re more like me than you’d like to admit,” he teases.

“I’m nothing like you, Joel. I’m just trying to survive.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do too, baby.”

“Cut that shit,” you slam your hand on the table, the noise reverberating in the silent stillness. “You’re a controlling maniac, lying to people so you can get your dick wet. So you can have women barefoot and pregnant in your kitchen.”

He laughs. That’s not who he is. Maybe the lying part but not the rest of it. You make him so goddamn crazy. He’s had his head in a fog for months, lost in his thoughts of you and now it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. The new you. No, the you that was apparently always there, the you that you’ve kept hidden from him. Mouthy, capable, and fierce. In your eyes he sees fury and passion. Damp hair tied in a messy little ponytail, dried blood under your nails. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s ever been more attracted to you.

“I love you,” he blurts out. The first time he’s said those words out loud in nearly a decade.

“That’s not gonna work on me anymore, Joel,” you sigh.

“I’m not tryin’-,” he huffs a deep breath in and out. Then he says quieter, almost to himself, “I shoulda said it before. A lot a’ things I shoulda- shoulda done different.”

“You shoulda said that shit last year,” you chuckle darkly. “I was over the moon for you. Out of my mind… stupid…” You grab a bite of jerky and chew on it slowly. “You know, I spent my whole life being mediocre. Good at some things but never great at anything. Not smart but not stupid, not ugly but not pretty, not useless but certainly not useful. I used to think about my purpose in life and wonder if anyone would remember me after I died. I’d think about if my life meant anything at all to anyone else, if anyone would miss me when I was gone.”

You pause to take another bite. Joel sees another metaphorical wall coming down between you. You continue your thought. “And then… one night I was washing dishes with you, and you told me about your daughter. When you looked at me - the grief in your eyes - I felt your sadness like I was washed in it, like it was poured over me. It wasn’t just your sadness, it was our sadness, like we were soaking in it together. In that moment, with your eyes on mine… I felt like maybe I had a purpose.

I felt like if my purpose was to rescue you from that sadness, then I’d do it. If my purpose was to drown with you in it, then I’d do that too. The more I let you in, the more sure I was of my feelings and the night you went down on me it felt like it was all made clear, everything was revealed. I thought we were united. I thought you felt it too, our bond, my purpose. That maybe I was only put on this earth for you, to be yours. To love you and be loved by you. If that was my purpose; to only live for you, to only matter to you, for you to be the only one to remember me… If true, that would be enough for me.” 

Joel watches a single tear fall out of your eye, which you quickly swipe away, muttering stupid again.

“I didn’t know you felt like that,” Joel says, his voice a whisper. 

“You knew what you were doing,” you level at him. “You brought me into that house to be just another toy on the shelf. Just another broken girl to add to your collection. You didn’t care about my feelings as long as you had my devotion.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“Stop lying to me Joel. Or are you still lying to yourself? You were helping you. And the worst part was, that after everything you did to me I still felt your hands around my fucking neck when you stood up there with Bianca and your-,” you wipe another tear from your cheek. “Your goddamn baby. You still had me in a chokehold and the shattered pieces of my pathetic broken heart just turned to dust.”

“Bianca’s baby-”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Joel. I can do math, I know it was before I got there but I don’t give a fuck, ‘cuz you’re still a liar. I couldn’t stand to be there for one more day watching you with anyone who wasn’t-”

Me. You stop yourself from finishing your sentence. You’ve spilled enough of your blood on the table. He doesn’t even deserve the honesty you’ve given him, and you’ve given him all of it. You take deep breaths and long quiet stretches out between you.

“I’m an asshole…,” he breaks the silence. “...and a liar.” You make a face that tells him you’re very much not impressed by his admissions. 

“I know. You already know. None of it was your fault. You know that too. I’ve been doin’ this for a long time, been usin’ people and doin’ whatever it takes to keep myself from-,” he takes a deep breath. “I pretend it’s to keep me alive but that’s not the only reason. It also keeps me detached from formin’ any real relationships. Keeps me from carin’ about anyone that I could potentially… lose.”

He sees your face melt, just for a moment. Hitting you right in the soft spot you must still have for him deep inside. You shake your head slightly.

“I’m sorry, but… that’s just not an excuse.” you say softly.

“I know. It’s not,” he affirms. “It’s just the why, doesn’t excuse anythin’.”

“Why are you tellin’ me this? It doesn’t change-”

“Bianca’s baby is not mine,” he interrupts.

Your eyes snap directly to his, narrowing in suspicion. He knows this is what seems to bother you the most, even more than his one-night indiscretion with Kerri. It’s the truth but he’s not sure you’ll believe him.

“You don’t honestly expect me to believe your bullshit now, do you?” you toss out, a cruel smirk on your lips.

“I thought she was your friend. She never told you it was mine, did she?”

“No, she-,” you suddenly feel awash with guilt. She didn’t tell you anything. Literally. She hardly ever spoke a word. You think back of all the time you spent together. You were content to sit with her in silence, daydreaming about Joel and assuming her quiet nature meant she was okay not talking about herself. But maybe you just didn’t ask. Turns out you just weren’t a very good friend. “She was pretty quiet,” you finish.

“Yeah, ‘cuz of what she went through,” he says as if you should know. 

You shake your head. You have no idea what he means. “I guess we weren’t that close,” you admit.

“She wouldn’t ‘a told you either way. She was basically a mute… PTSD the doc said. We rescued her from some very bad people,” he says, copying your earlier phrase. “They were using women for their bodies, doin’ horrible things… Bianca was pregnant when we found her. She didn’t trust anyone but me ‘n Tess, so we took her in. She was too scared to be touched and I never laid a fuckin’ finger on her, not once.”

You nod your head slowly, absorbing the information he’s provided and replaying things over in your mind. 

“Why did she have to leave the house?”

“Tess thought it’d look like it was my baby, that it’d look like I had some kind of ‘harem’ goin’ on at the house.” He meets your eyes and you exchange a knowing glance. “I know, but still, she thought some people wouldn’t like the idea of it, regardless of what was true and what wasn’t. Plus, she said it’d be best if Bianca had a ‘better environment’ to raise the baby in.”

You nod and then a thought pierces your mind like a needle.

“Why… why didn’t you just tell me this the other day when I asked you if it was your baby?”

He looks down, averting himself from your scrutiny.

“I wanted to hurt you,” he whispers.

He’s still looking down so he doesn’t even notice when you jump up and dive across the table, knocking him over in his chair and scrabbling your hands to his neck. You’re screaming at him, telling him he’s an asshole, telling him he ruined you, telling him you hate him. Even though you got the jump on him, he’s easily keeping your hands from squeezing too tight around his neck, gently prying your fingers off and pushing you back off him.

He gets up off the ground, hauling you up with him - thrashing and screeching - pushing you up against a column by your shoulders and waiting for you to calm down. There’s not tears in your eyes anymore, now they’re filled with fire. You grit your teeth and continue to claw at the air, trying to pluck his eyes from his head. He’s apologizing, softly repeating over and over that he’s sorry, saying it so many times that it starts to lose its meaning.

“Hurt me?” you say hoarsely. “All you ever did was hurt me.”

“I know,” he closes his eyes. “I’m sor-”

“I hate you.”

“I deserve it.”

“Fuck you. I hate you,” you seethe.

He lets you go, expecting you to attack him again - which would be justified - but you just stand there with your fists balled and your eyes aflame. Maybe you’d feel better if you hit him, if you made him bleed. Maybe he’d feel better.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I hate you.”

You collide like two stars, your heart orbiting around his until they burn supernova hot. Your cores are drawn together by the laws of the universe until they collapse, creating a black hole where your bodies once existed. All the air in the room disappears, as does every thought and doubt in your mind. Gravity itself seems to fade away until you’re nothing but a weightless void, floating through space or floating underwater. Either way his lips are on your lips and you can’t fucking breathe.

You feel his hands everywhere, hot and rough, grabbing onto your flesh like he’s going to tear pieces off and take them as souvenirs. Your tongue wraps around his, seeking his taste, craving the feel of him. His warmth, his scent, his desire. It’s there, low in your belly, the effervescent feeling of being the object of his affections. You hate him. You miss him. You hate yourself. 

You shove your hand down the front of his pants and without preamble, grab his half-hard cock in your hands. Joel jerks away slightly, causing you to lose your grip, your hand slipping out of his jeans. Your faces pull back from each other and you stand there in the moonlit room, staring into each other’s eyes, the only sounds the racing of your heartbeats.

“You don’t want me?” you ask, panting.

“Of course I want you,” Joel answers.

“Then what’s the problem?

“Did you fuck that guy?”

“You think I fucked the stranger who kidnapped me?”

“I heard-”

“He was dead before you heard anything,” you let your words sink in. “Do you want me or not, Joel?”

“You’re all I want.”

“Then take me, Joel. I won’t ask you again.”

Joel grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls your face to his, making you whole again. You go for your own pants this time, unbuttoning and unzipping while he follows your lead and does the same. He pulls back to remove his shirt but you yank him back towards you, biting his lower lip and then licking your tongue across it to soothe him. He responds exactly how you’d hoped, wincing and then retaliating.

He quickly turns you around and pushes you bent over, face down onto the table, yanking your pants below your ass. You’re not wearing underwear and a vision flashes in his mind, the reminder of what happened to your underwear and what you’ve done here tonight. He resists the instinct to look around the room, to survey the carnage. This is inappropriate. This is the end of the world. This is - apparently - what you want.

He grabs your arms and crosses them over your back, your hands resting together at your lower back and with his other hand takes out his cock, now rock-solid and leaking precum. He runs his tip up and down your wet seam a few times before notching himself at your entrance. He doesn’t move his hips forward despite the burning desire to do little else. He leans over your back, bringing his mouth to your ear and gives it a few gentle kisses before you try and shrug him off of you.

“Let’s go already, what are you waiting for?” you goad him.

“Do you want this?” he whispers, placing another kiss just behind your ear, his stubble brushing your neck and causing you to shiver.

“Come on. You waitin’ around for me to change my mind?”

You try to move your hands, to reach for him, but he holds you in a firm grip.

“Tell me you want me,” Joel huffs in your ear, no more than a murmur.

“Shut up and fuck me already-”

“Please,” he begs.

“I want you to fuck me Joel, please just fuck me,” you drag out the last word as he pushes himself into you.

Every shallow thrust of his hips drives him deeper until he’s finally home, his hips meeting your backside in perfect harmony. You feel fucking amazing.

“This cunt is so fucking perfect,” he grits his teeth, head tilted back and speaking to the ceiling.

He lets go of your arms and grabs the flesh at your hips with both hands, pulling out and slamming himself back in. You reach back and clutch the edge of the table and he takes it as his sign to set a rough pace, slamming himself into you again and again, driven on by your satisfied moans. He leans over you again, puts one hand down on the table next to your head and tangles his other hand into your hair, pulling back your head to expose your neck to him.

“Tell me again,” he commands. “Tell me you want me.” 

He runs his lips down your neck, nipping your tender flesh with his teeth when you don’t answer. 

“Fuck,” you yelp. “I want it Joel. Give it to me,” you repeat the last sentence over and over, babbling into the table.

He places more kisses on your neck, down to your shoulders and across the top of your back before he stands back up resuming his thrusts, gentle at first. He feels you squeezing his cock as tight as a fist, feels your wetness coating him, mixing in the coarse hairs at the base of him. He grabs your hips again, driving himself harder into your center, feeling what you denied him all this time. This is what he’s needed, what he’s wanted for so long. You. You and him. This is how it was meant to be. He’s half out of his mind, grunting, wishing he could keep doing this forever, knowing he’s not going to last much longer. 

He can’t wait to get you home and have you in his bed, can’t wait to properly have his way with you. He’s going to lie you down and lick you until you shake, to fuck you until you can’t walk. He’s going to take his time with you, make you come, make you scream, make you cry, make you forgive him, make you love him again. The thought nearly drives him over the edge and he lets out a long whine as he stutters his hips, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to stop his release.

“You close, baby?”

“Don’t stop,” you reply.

“I know but I’m gonna-,” he moves his hips again, slowly at first, feeling your fluttering cunt around him. God, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Are you close? Do you need me to-”

He lifts your hips up with his left hand and moves his right hand to snake under you, to rub circles around your clit the way he knows you like except you slap his hand away before he can get it under you.

“Don’t-” you snap. “Just keep going.”

You feel him grab you firmly back at your hips and resume his thrusts. He resumes grunting and groaning, muttering filth to himself about your perfect cunt and how you were made for each other. You bear down, grabbing the table edge harder and squeezing his cock in a tight clench. A noise begins in the back of his throat and builds as it comes out of him as a wail. He must be about to come. One of you should.

Not you. This feels good but this isn’t intimacy. This isn’t love. This isn’t forgiveness. This is goodbye.

Joel’s hips come to a halt and he moans over you, cursing and shouting noises you’ve never heard him make before. He’s muttering apologies in your ear, repeating that he loves you, the same shit over and over. You’re half-worried he’s going to start crying.

Joel steps back, pulling out of you slowly to admire his spend spilling out of you, unable to temper the fascination of marking you as his. This isn’t about that, the rational part of him thinks, this is so much more than that. He reaches out to help you up off the table but you’ve already pushed yourself up and are pulling your pants back up over your hips. Joel does the same, a satisfied grin plastered on his face when you turn around to face him.

“Your guns are in the kitchen,” you say. “In the freezer.”

“Oh- thanks,” he murmurs, feeling the awkwardness of the deliberate topic change.

“Are you heading out now or are you gonna wait ‘till sunrise?” 

“Am I-,” a shadow is cast over his face at your wording. “What do you mean am I heading out now, why wouldn’t we walk back together?”

“Because we’re going in opposite directions.”

What the fuck? He can’t help the gamut of emotions that run across his face, exposing his vulnerability to you. Confusion, Anger, Pain. Oh, the pain. You’re rejecting him, again. All the walls that fell down over the last several hours were just built back up - and in fact - built back up while you were fucking him. How did you do that? Why did you do that?

He didn’t think you forgave him but he thought this was going to be a new chapter, that you were letting him back in and giving him another chance. Does he deserve it? Maybe not but he would do anything to get it. Anything. Give you anything, give up anything. But you never even intended to give him a chance.

You-

Did you even come?

He reaches out to you but you pull back, increasing the distance between you.

“Baby-” he whines.

“Stop it,” you say, voice even. “Nothing changed Joel.”

“But… we had sex,” he whimpers, and as it leaves his mouth he hears how pathetic he sounds.

“It’s not a big deal, Joel,” you say, mirroring the words he once said to you when you’d caught him giving himself to any willing mouth on their knees.

God, he underestimated you. 

He had no idea how strong you were, how fucking hard you could grab his heart and rip it to shreds.

“Please,” he begs. “Wait… Just- please.”

“Goodbye, Joel,” you say, grabbing your empty pack off the table and brushing past him towards the door.

He grabs your arm as you pass him, placing your palm over his heart. He doesn’t speak but when you look into his eyes you see tears spilling out over his cheeks.

“I gave you everything you ever wanted Joel, how can you ask for more?”

“I need-”

“You need to let me go. In fact, I’ll give you the last piece of the puzzle.” You pull your hand back from him and take a step backwards, towards the door. You speak your name. The one you never gave him. The piece of you that you kept to yourself. A name only spoken by people who loved you, by people who are dead now. The name you wanted him to earn. It hangs between you in the screaming silence. “Now you have everything. You’ve taken every last piece of me. So just fucking let me go.”

You take another tentative step backwards and when he doesn’t move, you turn on your heels and walk out the door, grabbing the rifle off the lawn where you’d dropped it, and jogging off into the coming dawn.

---

The birds start singing before you see the sunrise peeking over the horizon. There are clouds moving in from the west and judging by the smell in the air, you’d guess rain is coming. You can weather the storm, your canteen is full and your pack is heavy. You’d found another summer camp at a different lake further south and were able to scavenge some supplies to help you in your journey. 

You briefly thought about Sasha, and how she would be proud of the way you found a tarp and a bungee cord and immediately thought it would make a good raincoat, or the way that you checked the barn to find edible oats when the kitchen pantry had already been picked over. The old you never would have thought of those things.

You’re walking just in the treeline and past the overgrown grass you can see the road to your left, an abandoned vehicle scattered here and there, but otherwise empty. And still. It’s so quiet out here, the air is almost heavy with the silence. You turn down a country road as the clouds move in, attempting to go around a village ahead and avoid the chance of meeting with any more unwanted company. As the sky turns gray and the damp moves in, you spot a covered bridge on the road ahead, not an uncommon sight in these scenic New England towns.

Just as the first fat raindrop hits your head, you duck under the cover of the bridge and take a few steps into the dark. You shrug your pack off your back and begin to fish out the tarp you’d tucked away so you can cover yourself from the incoming downpour. You don’t hear any noise above the splatter of rain on the old bridge’s roof but you feel a sharp pain at the side of your skull and the world goes black.

---

Joel eases you to the ground once you slump backwards into his waiting arms. He sees some dark drops hitting the ground, running off from your temple. He rips off a strip of his shirtsleeve to wrap around your head. He swung too hard. He didn’t want to hurt you but he had to be sure to incapacitate you, he had to be sure you wouldn’t take off on him again. You’ll be alright, he’ll take you to the doc when you get back and get you all patched up. Maybe he’ll even read to you while you heal up. He still has that copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide in his desk drawer. It’ll be just like old times.

He brushes your hair out of your eyes and says your name, kissing your forehead.

“I already told you baby, you can’t run from me.”

🖤

NEXT

I miss you Iris 💐 Thank you for helping with this series. Thank you SO MUCH to my darling Beef and Bug for helping me to edit this bad boy. Cult Joel (CJ) loves you!!

no taglists going forward - follow @nox-notifs & turn on notifs🫶

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @pinkypromisepascal @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads

[grimesgirll]

you love forcing your guys to watch tv with you.

snuggled up on the sectional together, there’s nothing you’d rather be doing with your saturdays.

your head is on daryl’s chest and your feet in rick’s lap while the old vhs tape plays an old episode of six feet under.

one of the alexandrians who’d passed long before your group arrived had a considerable hbo collection, along with some of the other most popular television series of your time before the end of the world as you knew it. from dvds of mad men to nip/tuck, there was enough to keep you preoccupied binging the best of the 2000s.

your duties in your new neighborhood kept you to a constant schedule but making time for tv wasn’t hard. slipping away to rock judith asleep in your arms was made easy with an episode of grey’s anatomy. it was nice to feel normal for once - like someone who wasn’t holing up behind ten foot high walls from hordes of the dead.

it’s even nicer getting your busy, go-getters to simply sit and enjoy your company, and the glow of the tv.

having never had a tv aside from the busted flatscreen merle’d once ditched at his place before everything went down, you were shocked when daryl told you he didn’t have a favorite show. it seemed every dvd or vhs you inserted had the man mocking the media.

dexter is dumb. arrested development’s cast consists of assholes. house bored him. psych too. and don’t get him started on desperate housewives.

at least you could count on wrestling rick into the couch for an episode of cops. rick’s rambling on everything the show got right and wrong was worth it if you could get him off his feet, because then it wouldn’t be long before you were teasing a foot along his leg.

still on top of daryl, you’re hoping the two pick up on what you’re putting down without you having to be too obvious. rick ruins your perfectly scripted scene with a single clearance of his throat. that’s all it takes for his attention to be diverted from the screen and for a hand to settle on your foot.

your tongue swipes across your lips. your twinging foot eventually brings rick’s attention from the limb to your lust addled expression. daryl’s probably half asleep. he doesn’t give a fuck about cops.

“they’re all gettin’ caught doin’ some dumb shit merle’d do,” he’d gruffed when you first played the title.

regardless, he’s relaxed beneath you. the hand wrapping your frame into him pulling him close. a lightly planted hand on your breast that lures your gaze back to his. you curl into the warmth of his arms and into a balmy kiss.

rick blisters his own impressions onto your calf. “ah,” you hum off-guard into daryl’s mouth. that only spurs the sheriff further up your thigh until you feel a finger over top the crotch of rick’s your boxers. between two pairs of masterful mouths, you could care less about cops. you have your own pulling down your underwear with his teeth and an outlaw on your lips. the latter is laying a hand on your head, savoring the feeling of your soft hair beneath his rough, calloused hand. you don’t mind it at all when he ushers you crushingly closer.

“were you even watchin’?” rick asks, the breath of his laughter panting onto your thigh.

“a bit,” you admit in a puff of breath. “cops is boring.”

“say that again,” daryl snarks into your neck.

rick shakes his head. those bronzed locks brush against the sensitive skin of your thighs, with rick now situated front and center facing your dripping core. he parts the light bush you’ve been maintaining to spread open your plush pussy. cool air makes you whine just as the roving pucker on your pulse point pulls the same sounds from you. “you want a finger? or my mouth?” rick leaves it to you.

you choose the hybrid option.

rick should know that you live for the way he prods you open with a nice fat finger, then letting his tongue wander up and down your clit.

knowing you inside and out, rick is ready to do just that. so it only makes sense that his tongue and a thick finger is already driving you up the sofa, so far gone already that all you can do is muffle your cries with daryl’s mouth.

the brother of georgia’s most wanted has no problem absorbing your pleasure. in fact, he works in near tandem with rick to get your heartbeat racing on both ends. fingers fall into a deft hold on your breasts, going from groping to taunting the buds popping up through your thin long sleeve. bunched up over your chest or your head seems to be the only fate that typically befalls that shirt. the thin material is always accenting your headlights in a cold room or straining holding back your bust enough that your boys always take note of it.

daryl loves it. loves getting a fistful of the flowy, flexible, blue and white flowered fabric. loves it even more when it’s out of his way. bunched up over your tits, it goes. “you gon’ come, pretty girl?” daryl questions, ducking down to capture your breast in his mouth.

you don’t know what to say. the answer is obvious but your words are mere babbles and all you do is moan and huff and pant yes.

all you can see of rick is that fluffy mop of brown. hands dug into your hips, he’s not relenting even as your clit pulses beneath his tongue. he only takes it as an opportunity to run his skilled appendage along the single pronounced ridge of your pleasure point.

“rick takin’ care of ya’? givin’ you a break from the pig show?”

you feel a snort against you, but it’s not long before you’re bucking your hips against rick’s face and he’s steadying your hips. that damn tongue just has to drag against you and you’re ready to flop off the couch. you can barely manage a smile at daryl’s dig because your mouth is contorting into an open o shape - o for orgasm because that’s the only thing on your mind. not the dead stalking the gates upon hearing a single human breath, not the responsibilities of running the community within those gates, not worrying about who’s on watch, definitely not anything other than the burst of delight coursing through you.

sunlight tumbles through the windows onto the perfect center of the living room. it would be blinding rick had he not still been between your thighs. squeezing your eyes shut, the last thing you see is rick’s sunlit head grooving up and down.

feeling snug on rick’s two fingers is enough for you to feel completely unbound. clenching but not clamping like daryl is now on your tit.

“fuck me,” you groan. the vulgarity comes out wispy as the man flattening his tongue and pancaking a new finger to your soaked clit steals your breath.

the denim hardness beneath you has you guiding daryl’s mouth from your chest to your face for another kiss. your hand is wound in his hair, almost like the kiss could distract you from the overstimulation rick’s so hellbent on.

a stripe of gold beams across your faces - and rick’s - so once you’re parting from the messy mash of tongue and lip you’d shared with daryl, the sight of rick has you squeezing your thighs again. with a finger still inside of you, rick’s slowly massaging your newly drenched cunt, and he’s never looked better. pink glossy lips have you yearning for a taste.

luckily, you and rick are always on the same page, thus, he’s leaning up on forearms to croon, “wanna taste yourself, baby girl?” and with a sure nod, your mouths are connecting so you can sample the fruits of your labor.

a hand on daryl’s dick, a bit of maneuvering on your part, and some sweet sounds from rick are all it takes for the television to be ignored. it feels like you’ve all fast forwarded through a season of cops by the time anyone recognizes the television’s still on but no one gives a damn. not when there are better distractions.

[megamindsecretlair]

I just want to start off by saying that you’re keeping all of us Tyrone girlies well fed!! You’re hands down one of my favorite writers on Tumblr ❣️

Not sure if you’re taking requests , but I would kill to see Tyrone be the jealous/pining one. He just always seems so cool and collected. Maybe it’s like a friends to lovers thing (or maybe they’re FWB and he hasn’t made it official) and someone asks the reader out before he does. Might be slightly toxic, but I feel like it’s on brand for him

Break Me

Pairing: Tyrone x Mean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Toxic Tyrone, all consensual. Multiple uses of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. While you get ready for your date, Tyrone invites himself over to make you address where you stand with each other.

Word Count: 5,102k

A/N: I have no excuses for myself. None. Head empty. I'm SO sorry this took forever to get out, I feel so bad. I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for calling me one of your fave writers! ILY! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt! Not everyone got tagged, simply because the list is so long and some of them have been inactive, no hard feelings!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @soft-persephone @henneseyhoe @dayjlovesromance @browngirldominion @melaninpov @sevikasblackgf @tranquilfandomer @empressdede @mybonafidefeelings @westside-rot @blackerthings @slippinninque @nicolexnight @honeytoffee @l-auteuse @jarfulloftears @thadelightfulone @kindofaintrovert @softscorpio17 @lovedlover @montysstuffs @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @soapjay @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @sunkissedebony97

You sang along to Megan the Stallion’s song, “Girls in the Hood”, at full blast while you readied yourself for a date. Your shoulders bumped to the familiar beat, sliding on lip gloss. You felt good. Lighter than air. Dare you say…excited for the date? 

You snickered and shook your head. No, you were not excited for no funky ass date. It was just nice to get dressed for once and leave your apartment for a Saturday night. You had been working hard the past few weeks, trying to get a little recognition at work. 

You were approaching that time. The time where they either started showing some love or you were going to use their computers to find a new one. You hated starting over at a new place. You hated trying to suss out if the new people were going to be cool or full of microaggressions. 

You sighed as you looked over your makeup in the mirror. You liked the soft complementary tones to your skin tone. Tonight was about you and that was all there was to it. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

You looked down, swiping to open it, and read the text from Tyrone.

Tyrone With That Monster: Need this dick?

Heat pulsed through you from the text alone. You stared at the screen as you willed your body to recover from the brief flashback to the last time Tyrone texted you. The way he had your legs in the air and was knocking your headboard into your wall so hard, there were still grooves there.

Nope, nope, nope. You were not going back there. It had been about a month since you last spoke to him. Both of you were too involved in your worlds to manage more than a scheduled back breaking. You did not need that toxic ass nigga in your life. No matter how good the dick was. 

You texted back: naw, busy tonight.

Tyrone With That Monster: busy doin what? Watchin them corny ass shows?

You giggled and shook your head. You enjoyed cooking shows, there was nothing wrong with that. You knew it was fake as hell, but the food looked so good after. And dammit, you cared about some of the contestants whose lifelong dream it was to cook for their favorite chefs.

You: naw, a date 

Tyrone With That Monster: what you mean a date?

You: I said what I said

You flipped your phone over. You did not have time to go back and forth with Tyrone. He wasn’t usually a fast texter and you still needed to slip on your dress. Your playlist flipped to “Body” by Megan the Stallion and you shimmied your way to your closet. You pulled out dress after dress, wondering which one screamed that you were classy but liked to be fucked into oblivion. 

Your phone buzzed and buzzed but you ignored it. It was a text tone and you sincerely hoped that Vaughn was not the type of nigga to text that he was here. His ass better come to the door like a gentleman. He was too early anyway.

Going through your options, you decided to go with a burnished orange mini dress. You’d have to spend the night making sure you weren’t flashing your ass for the wrong crowd but it was short enough for Vaughn to get the message. You opened your closet door to reveal the mirror hanging from it.

You slipped the dress on, carefully yanking it down to fit over your wide hips and ass. You turned in the mirror to look at how the dress hung. Damn, you could see the bottom of your ass. There was no way to keep it down. Shit. Not appropriate for dinner. It was appropriate for the club, so you grabbed your phone from the vanity, ready to text your friend about a potential club date.

You had several missed messages from Tyrone asking where you were going, who you were going with, what you were wearing, why you stopped answering, etc. You giggled running through the messages. You didn’t know what was going on with him, acting like ya’ll went together real bad. 

You were in the middle of typing a reply when you heard a thumping noise. You turned down Megan, a cardinal sin you know, and listened. Someone was banging on your door like they were the police. You tossed your phone onto your bed and headed towards the front door.

If it was your date, it was off. You had no time for a disrespectful ass mu’fucka. You looked through your peephole and gasped. Tyrone stood with his back towards you, scanning your neighborhood. 

You opened the wooden door, staring at him through the metal door. “Tyrone?” You asked.

“Open up,” he said.

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here bangin’ on my door like that? You know my neighbor–”

“Is deaf as hell. Open this damn door,” he said and sucked his teeth. 

Your pussy fluttered and you squeezed your thighs to make the ol’ girl calm down. So it had been a month since you seen him. So you still woke up in the morning sometimes from dreams where he folded you in half. Tyrone was a fuck boy, through and through, and you had no time for that. 

“Who the hell do you think you talkin’ to like that? Take that bass out ya voice,” you said. 

“Open this damn door,” Tyrone said, lowering his voice and injecting more bass. Asshole. That only turned you on more.

 You sighed and twisted the lock, opening the door for him. You didn’t want to cause a scene. The sweet old lady you lived next door to was kind and treated you like a granddaughter. She wouldn’t understand why you’d put up with someone like Tyrone.

You didn’t really understand it either. You just knew that you hated a weak ass man. There was nothing wrong with men who listened to their ladies and were sweet in everything that they did. But it turned you off when you told someone to shut up and they just went, “yes, ma’am”. 

Where was the fight? Where was the passion? Words never swayed you. You were always about the action. 

Tyrone swept into your apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He closed the wooden door and then finally faced you. Letting him in was a mistake you genuinely regretted at that moment.

He looked so cozy standing there in a hooded jacket, jacket over it, thick black jeans, and some Jordans. You wanted to bundle up with him. In your room. Under the covers. 

“The hell you going dressed like that?” He asked.

“Hello to you too, nigga,” you rolled your eyes and traipsed back to your room. Tyrone’s thunderous steps followed. 

“Shoes off!” You snapped. 

Tyrone sighed dramatically, never understanding the thing about taking off his shoes. You didn’t know which ho’s house he was coming from or which backwoods ass alley he was selling out of, but you did not want it tracked all over your soft brown carpet. 

Tyrone followed you to your room where you slipped the dress back over your head. You were braless and Tyrone openly stared at your tits but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He was barely a friend and he would be nothing more so there was no harm. 

Even though you felt his gaze like a physical thing. As if he were already pulling you close and running his hands across your breasts, squishing, kneading…okay, stop it. 

You looked through your other dresses, trying to find something before your date showed up. You roughly had an hour, so you hoped you could find something quickly. If finding your dress was hard, finding a matching pair of heels was harder.

“So you just gon’ flash them shits and ignore me?” 

“What do you want, Tyrone? I said I was busy,” you told him. Your back was to him. You didn’t want to look at him too long or give him any hint that he could approach you. You weren’t sure you had the willpower to resist him.

Did you love him? No. You barely tolerated him. You weren’t even sure how you fell into “fuck buddy” territory. It had been a wild couple of months, where you had more fun having sex than you could remember.

But, the more you hopped in with him, the less you wanted to hop in with anyone else. And that simply wouldn’t do. 

You were growing uncomfortably wet. Your brain and heart didn’t want him, but your pussy did. Every swish of your thighs and dip of your hip reminded you of how wet you grew around him. If he were to enter you right now, he wouldn’t need to work himself in. You were your very own slip n’ slide.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, you didn’t want to have to explain yourself. 

“You said you didn’t do dates,” he said. 

“I don’t.” You couldn’t concentrate on finding a dress while he stood there, across the way from you. It felt like he was crowding your space. Or maybe that was just his presence. 

“What the fuck? Why you actin’ like this?” He asked.

“I’m not acting like anything. You the one that showed up unannounced,” you said. You risked a glance at him. He had his hands in his hoodie pocket, head tilted a bit to the side, and eyes furrowed.

Fuck, he was gorgeous. With his big, sexy ass lips. Wide nose. Fierce eyebrows. Your pussy would never let you forget what his tongue could do. Could you clean yourself up real quick? You didn’t want to go out on a date with soaked panties. 

You pulled the next dress you could find out of the closet and held it up to yourself. It was a black, sleeveless midi dress that would more than cover your ass but still short enough to not hinder you from getting some tonight.

You had been depriving yourself of dick, mostly because you were bored with the current rotation. They weren’t doing anything new, weren't trying to do anything new, and you didn’t have time to break it down for them. 

You were ready to hop on and get yours. So you quietly ghosted the current roster and set to work building up some potentials. Vaughn was the only one with some sense so far. He used proper grammar, he had hobbies outside of playing ball on the weekends or surfing the internet trolling, and he was on his grown man grind. 

“If you wanted a date, why didn’t you ask me?” Tyrone asked.

You laughed. The sound erupted from you, loudly and rudely, and you held your hand to your mouth to rein it back in. 

“You? Taking me on a date? Be fuckin’ forreal.” You couldn’t hide the laughter in your tone. 

“You actin’ like a nigga can’t take you somewhere nice. After we fuck, you kickin’ me out the bed.” 

Laughter still shook your shoulders as you glanced at him. But he wasn’t laughing. His lips were pressed together and you had to really look at him. Was he serious? 

“I thought that was what we agreed to?” Did you miss something? 

“Yeah, I thought we agreed to fuck with each other.”

“And do?” 

“So why you switching shit up, going on dates? When we got started, I asked you out a few times.” 

You bit the corner of your mouth. You hated messy shit like this. “Not that I have to explain myself, but I felt like a date today. Felt like doing something new. Fuck buddies starting to get played if I can’t hang out after,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders. 

You weren’t in the market for a relationship. Didn’t have the time. But you supposed that you wanted a friend with benefits. Hang out to do dumb shit like go to the movies, go see a gallery opening, go out to dinner and then come home to get off. You weren’t down for the cuddling shit but maybe? You didn’t know what you were after, but this wasn’t it anymore.

You couldn’t picture Tyrone doing any of those things. He was too busy, too rough around the edges, to fit the ideal friend you were looking for. 

“Then why can’t we hang after?” Tyrone asked. 

You fought a smile. “And do what, Tyrone? Watch my corny ass shows that you complain about? Talk about work? Go out to the same five fast food restaurants and eat in the car, parked somewhere?” 

“Damn, you think that about me?” His voice got soft. Shit. No, no. This was going all wrong. Tyrone was good for being a stone wall. You could say whatever and do whatever. He didn’t care. You liked that he didn’t care. 

“I’m saying that this isn’t an exclusive thing. We both knew that. How many women you don’ fucked on your way over to me? How many girls you got waiting for a call back from you?” 

“Ion know, I ain’t messed with none of them bitches for a good while. You’d know that if you texted me for something other than dick,” he said. 

“Need I remind you who texted who tonight?” 

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating!” Tyrone exploded. 

“I don’t know what you want!” You screamed back.

“You! Dumb ass!” 

Your mouth was already open, ready to rip apart anything he said in response. But when his words sunk in, when the pounding of your heart in your ears lessened, it dawned on you that he said he wanted you. 

“Oh,” you said. You stood there awkwardly. You had the dress in your hands, hanging limply from the hangar. You lifted it, covering yourself, not sure what to say to that. 

“You don’t even think about me, do you?” 

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said. You faced away from him. 

“Then tell me what’s going on in your head, ‘cause I never do. I don’t fuckin’ get you half the time. But I know I want you,” he said.

“You just want what’s between my legs. This my fuckin’ pussy,” you snapped. Anger bubbled in your gut. Who the fuck did he think he was, pulling this shit? Forcing you to confront these…these…fuck ass feelings? You were about your money. You were about your grind. This was precisely why you didn’t want relationships and cut niggas off before it got this far. 

This was ultimately your fault, for letting him linger for so long. But how could you deny your insane chemistry with him? You never got the grooves fixed in your wall because you liked remembering how he handled your body. You liked remembering that he worshiped every inch of you and never made a snide comment about your looks or weight.

You pretty for a big girl…it’s nice to be out with someone who eat like me, not like a damn bird…

“Don’t put words in my mouth. Ain’t that what you said?” Tyrone fired back. 

You sighed and pushed past him, heading for the bathroom. “I need to get ready for my date,” you mumbled. 

Tyrone blocked your exit from your bedroom, using his size to crowd in even more. “How could you still think about that nigga when I’m right in front of you? Telling you I want you? We can stop the sex right now, if you’ll give me a chance,” he said, his tone soft. His eyes were pleading with you, silently begging you to make that leap. 

“There’s only sex between us, Tyrone. Move,” you said. You looked away from him, digging your hands into your flesh, clutching the dress to yourself. 

“Fine. Tell me your pussy ain’t wet and I’ll leave,” he said. 

“That’s not fair, Tyrone,” you said.

“I don’t care. Tell me it isn’t. Tell me them little ass panties ain’t fuckin’ soaked.” 

“Sex was never our problem,” you told him. 

“You ain’t trynna be with me and I know you ain’t trynna be with whatever fuck nigga you got comin’ to swoop you up. You don’t even know if his dick as good as mine. Let me send you out proper then,” he said. 

He closed the minimal distance between you, pressing his lips to your temple. “Show me you truly don’t fuck with me no more and I’ll leave,” he said.

“You just confessed that you want me. How fair is it to let you hit after that? Or let you hit and then go out with someone else?” He could not fuck you into being with him. There was no way that he was going to fuck some feelings into you. 

Stupidly, a small part of you still didn’t want to give him up. You wanted him to take back what he said. To unring that bell. You wanted him to take those words from your brain so that he could stay on the roster. Stay unbothered. You didn’t want to change your arrangement. 

“I’m just some fuck boy right? I got other women waiting on this dick, so what does it matter?” 

“Because you already ruined it!” 

Tyrone only smirked. He tugged on the dress. You held on but you didn’t want to tear the dress either. You let it go and he tossed the dress onto your ottoman. He spread your arms out and he looked down at your titties. It was just cold. That was the only reason your nipples were beaded up like that.

“I can’t ruin what never was. I’m a grown ass man. I can handle rejection,” he said. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples and you fought off a shiver.

“Tyrone…” You knew this was a bad idea. “We shouldn’t.” 

Dammit, you were dick whipped. And you knew that you had to hold out. Had to remain strong. You couldn’t fuck someone who had feelings for you. You were an asshole but you had to be an asshole with some rules. There was a line somewhere. 

Tyrone took off his jacket and then took off his hoodie, revealing a white t-shirt. His lips returned to your forehead, then your cheek, bypassing your mouth and headed towards your neck. You melted into his kisses, leaning your head back for more. Wait, no.

You pushed him away and put your hands up. “We can’t.” 

“We shouldn’t. We can’t. Tell me no. Tell me no since you ain’t want me,” he said.

“I told you that sex was never our problem,” you said. You’d definitely have to change your panties now. You couldn’t go on a date like this. All hot and bothered. “I hate you.”

Tyrone smirked, removing his shirt. Your mouth dropped open. It had been far too long since you seen him naked. Since you seen that one eyed-monster he got hiding in his pants. 

His hands deftly unbuttoned his jeans, the zipper moving slowly down. You followed the action. You were throbbing right now, needing a really good dick down. Wasn’t that what the whole Vaughn thing was for anyway? You had been texting him for a few weeks and you appreciated that he wasn’t begging for pussy. But Tyrone was right. You didn’t know if Vaughn was good in bed yet.

“What was it that you said? It’s your pussy right? Don’t you want to take care of her before your date? Just so you’re in it thinking with your head,” he said. 

Tyrone waited. He waited for you to tell him no. To tell him to get dressed, walk out, and leave you free for your date. You just stared at his hands on his jeans, ready to pull them down. 

“I hate you,” you sighed. You weren’t strong. You were not every woman. It was not all in you. He was right. He was a grown man and he could handle rejection. One last roll around the sheets wouldn’t kill him. Maybe he needed that final nut to get you out of his system.

Tyrone’s smug smile split his face as he dropped the jeans. His dick was already pressing against his black boxer briefs. He rubbed himself over the top. “Get that pretty ass on the bed,” he said.

He had you, so he was back to familiar territory. You followed his directions, walking backwards until your legs hit the bed. You sat down. He approached, still rubbing that wonderful, beautiful dick of his. 

You licked your lips. You reached out to grab the band of the boxers, but he slapped your hand away. You gave him a funny look but he only knelt down slowly. He hauled your legs to his shoulders and scooted in, until you were angled perfectly. 

He took a deep breath. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He moved your panties to the side and started eating you out. No teasing, no games, just big lips attached to your pussy and eating like it was his God given right.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. You tried to scoot back a bit. You weren’t used to such intensity from him. 

Tyrone pulled you forward, pressing his shoulders under your thighs and forcing your legs wider. Music still played in the background, a sensual R&B tune called “Flames” that only highlighted this naughty moment. 

His tongue flicked against your clit. He attacked it with precision, flicking it back and forth since he knew it was the quickest way to get you off. As he did that, his left hand held your pussy lips open. His right hand trailed down in your slickness and pushing inside you. 

“Ohhhhh,” you moaned to the ceiling. He fucked you with his thick digits, going in and out at a fast pace. Your thighs shook on his shoulders. 

“Mhm, this yo pussy right?” He whispered against your clit. 

“Yess,” you moaned. And it was. You were the proud owner of something that drove men insane. Thinkin’ they owned you or some shit. You were the mu’fucka that had to deal with it day in and day out. So why should it belong to a mu’fucka who couldn’t find your clit even if you drew them a map? 

Tyrone suckled on your clit, driving his fingers deeper inside of you. Tyrone didn’t need a map. He knew exactly what to do. He flipped his hand over, curling his fingers in a come hither motion. You clutched his braids as you came on his face. Shaking. Quaking. Was there an earthquake or were you just shaking that damn badly from this momentous orgasm? 

“Fuuhh,” you cried out. It had been entirely too long. Damn, my bad sis, you mentally thought about your vagina. You would never deprive her for so long again. 

You twitched as Tyrone continued to lap up your orgasm, groaning at your taste. He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear. He leaned back, lifting his soaked fingers to his mouth and suckled up your juices. 

He stood up and peeled off your panties. “Knew you were wet as fuck,” he said, self satisfaction written all over his face.

“Whatever, nigga,” you groaned. He chuckled and picked you up. He tossed you further on the bed. You were ready to admonish him for it, but he finally freed that big ass monster. His dick bobbed when he was finally free. 

He stood there a moment, letting you look your fill. “Hurry up and come fuck me,” you said. You didn’t have time to play. You weren’t sure what the time was. Oh yeah, you tossed your phone onto the bed.

Tyrone chuckled. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. The bed dipped as he climbed on.. Where did he get the fuckin’ audacity to toss you around like this? Was this the same Tyrone? Did he have a twin or clone somewhere who was a little sex freak? 

He slapped your ass. “Goddamn,” he said. “That fuckin’ recoil is dangerous.”

“Who do-”

He entered you and you gasped from his size. Did he get bigger? Was that possible? This couldn’t be the same dick you were hopping on a few weeks ago. “Oh fuck,” you gasped.

Your hands clutched the red sheets, trying to pull yourself away from him. You weren’t prepared for this! 

Tyrone slammed your hips back down on his girth and you cried out. A mix of pain and pleasure had your hand frantically reaching back. Tyrone grabbed it and pushed it into the bed next to your head. His large hand covering yours was sexy all by itself. Your pussy fluttered and Tyrone groaned.

“This yo pussy right?” He asked.

“Yeesssuh,” you moaned. 

You started throwing it back on him, slapping your ass against his thighs. The wet smacking got louder than the music playing in the background. “Fuck me,” he moaned and went harder. 

A dance of dominance began. Your hips rolled as you tried to gain some type of control. You liked getting fucked as much as the next person, but he was an entirely different animal tonight. A dangerous one. He was pulling out all kinds of moves you didn’t know he had. And you were unprepared for it. Blindsided that this mu’fucka still had some tricks up his sleeve. 

But every inch you tried to gain, he’d switch it up. He took his hand off of yours and replaced it on your hip. He lifted up his right leg to steady himself. Then he really went to town. Each meeting of your skin on his was like a shotgun blast. Lethal. Loud. His thrusts were hard. His strokes deep. 

He moved his hand again, snaking it under your bodies until he found your clit. “Oh, shit, wait,” you mumbled. 

“Uh-uh, this yo pussy. Treat her right,” he grunted. His harsh breaths fanned over your overheated skin. 

His fingers were too much. You reared up as another orgasm tore through you. Like a mini tornado. You shook, your eyes crossed, and pleasure whipped you into a chaotic frenzy. As you were still cumming, Tyrone pulled out long enough to flip you onto your back.

Your hands flew to his chest, but he ignored you. The nigga had a demon inside of him. He licked his lips as he rammed back inside of you. Your back bowed off of the bed. 

“What the fu–” 

“Ima need one more, pretty girl,” he said. He pressed his chest into yours. His sweat mixed with yours. You slid easily against him, both panting and grunting and rutting like two mu’fuckas in heat. 

“I can’t–”

“Sure you can. It’s your pussy, you can do what you want,” he murmured into your neck. He lifted his head and kissed you. 

You were stunned, gasping, and he took advantage licking the lip gloss from your lips. His tongue played with yours. 

On the heels of your last orgasm, he pulled another one from you. Like a little thief. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Surely, you saw stars. The universe. You knew every answer known to man in that moment. You touched another reality as your body flooded his dick. 

He slipped out and he frantically shoved back in. “That’s right. You treat that pussy well,” he said. He continued to kiss you and fuck you through it. You couldn’t comprehend anything beyond his dick ramming inside of you as if he were truly trying to steal your guts. 

Distantly, you heard your ringtone. “Ignore it,” you said against his lips. 

“Answer it,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Answer. That. Shit.” Every word was a deeper stroke. How was he not as deep as possible already?!

You turned your head, your hand frantically reaching through your red sheets for your phone. Vaughn’s name flashed on the screen. Fuuuuuck. 

Pressure built in your lower belly. You clenched around Tyrone’s thick dick. “On speaker,” Tyrone said with a smirk. 

Your hand shakily swiped to answer and then you put him on speaker. You laid the phone on your chest. Tyrone seemed to like that because he grinned and then turned his attention to your abandoned nipples.

He suckled one into his mouth. “H-Hello?” You answered, trying to sound like you weren’t getting your guts rearranged. 

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that I was five minutes out.” Vaughn had a deep voice too. Not quite as deep as Tyrone’s. But it still lovingly caressed your ears.

“I’m so sorry. I uh-” You bit your lip to keep from moaning. He was so damn big. His thrusts turned shallow, giving you a little room to breathe. His tongue laved around your nipple, sending sharp tugs to your pussy. 

“I should’ve texted,” you said. Your voice sounded strained to your own ears. If Vaughn wasn’t dumb, he’d know that you were doing something nasty. With someone that wasn’t him. 

“Everything okay? You sound out of breath?” Vaughn asked.

“I feel so sick.” You bit your lip again as Tyrone nibbled. He threw you a wink and then slammed into you once. You heaved and hoped it didn’t sound like a moan. 

“Do you want me to bring something over? I just passed a store,” Vaughn said. 

Take the fuckin’ hint, damn! “That’s–sweet. No, I’ll call, okay?” You asked.

“Alright. I’ll check on you. I hope you feel better.” He was so sweet. Dumbass. 

“Okay, byee!” You hung up the phone just as Tyrone increased his strokes. His balls slapped against your wet pussy, your sheets drenched from your orgasms.

“This yo pussy?” Tyrone asked as he threw his head back and finally came, flooding you with his cum.

“Shiiii–” You came with him, both of you mutually lost to it. To the heat and pleasure chasing around and around inside your body. 

Tyrone grabbed your wrists as his dick pulsed inside of you. You felt the spurts leaking out of him. He pressed your wrists close to your head. He grunted as he felt you clenching and unclenching around him, greedily sucking it all in. 

“Sorry about your date,” Tyrone panted and grinned.

“I hate you so goddamn much,” you said and chuckled. 

“Let’s throw on one of them corny ass shows and I’ll eat you out again.” He kissed along your jaw, wiggling his hips a bit so you knew he was still thoroughly lodged there, burying his cum deep inside you. 

Well, who were you to complain? You ain’t want to go out that badly anyway.

Whew! You feelin' alright? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

[regretmedaisy]

i can see you - tom riddle x fmc/reader

part II

loosely inspired by "i can see you" by taylor swift.

“I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it”

summary: She had always fancied Tom Riddle. It was an infatuation that bordered on love and obsession, that she had secretly grown and cared for, content with indulging in her fantasies and never bold enough to try and make them become reality.

When she meets him again in her adulthood, dormant longings resurface together with a newfound desire to be the object of his own devotion.

As their paths keep crossing, she starts to think he feels the same.

tags: afab mc, use of female pronouns and no descriptors (i tagged it as x reader because i guess it could be read as such if you use the same pronouns), somewhat period-accurate clothing, courtship (just a little because it's still tom riddle), fmc has a crush on tom, she's a bit anxious, a bit of fluff, explicit sexual desire, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, woman is on top.

please note that mc has a crush on tom, therefore the way she refers to him could sound a bit cheesy and exaggerated. i edited this last night and didn't read it again before posting. i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes i missed.

bear with her in this one, she's a little anxious.

words: 6.7K

you can find part I here, I strongly recommend you read that one first.

this is me crawling out of my hole of shame to post this chapter.

i'm really sorry for this very late update, but the smut chapter is finally here after many days of writing (but still in time for smutober lol).

it's not crazy smut, but i hope it was worth the wait.

Part II: And I could see you up against the wall with me

She tapped her foot, pursing her red lips as she jotted a few numbers down on a parchment. She sighed, taking another folder from the pile on her side and checking if the reports corresponded. 

When Serena, her boss, had showed up that morning with two delivery men in tow, she already knew her day was going to take a detestable turn.

Serena had dropped three boxes full of last year's reports in the office and sprinted out of the door before they could say anything and try to stop her.

Apparently she had hired a cheap accountant to save money and now she had to review everything before the Ministry noticed and demanded an audit. Or rather, Serena had asked her to do it.

She was now holed up in the backroom while Will had taken her place in the main office, since Serena didn’t pay her enough to care about customers and save her from bankruptcy at the same time.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost time for her usual break. She chewed the inside of her cheek and returned to the reports.

She wasn’t in the right mindset to meet Tom.

The day she had gone to see him had been like the calm before the literal storm. In the past week it had rained so heavily that she had had to give up on going out and he hadn’t come to post his letters. What had happened between them had been left unresolved.

She had replayed it so many times in her mind, at night and during idle moments in the office, picturing different ways in which it could have ended, desperately wishing she could indulge in his warm lips again.

The first few days she had fretted about it, but as the week had gone by without a word from him, she had just started to accept it as the normal course of things. Perhaps it had just been an extraordinary event, a moment that wasn’t going to repeat itself and that she needed to find contentment in. Perhaps it was supposed to be one of those memories she was going to return to in twenty years, thinking about everything she could have had, or it will sour in her mind, turning into regret while her lamenting soul grieved the possibilities of youth, the chances she had been too scared to take.

It didn’t matter that she was conscious of the anxious butterflies leading her decisions, she still didn’t want to find out if what she saw in him was just a product of her infatuated imagination.

She immersed herself in numbers, refusing to go down that rabbit hole again.

Fifteen minutes after the end of her break, a customer walked in. A beat of silence followed and then Will said, “She’s in the back.”

She almost jumped out of her seat, her heart rate picking up. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat straighter, crossing her legs.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his arm half raised as if he had wanted to knock. She pretended she had just noticed him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hello, Tom.” She gave him a mellow smile.

He was so good-looking, with his perfectly styled curls and black coat in the muted light of the cloudy morning. Her heart fluttered painfully.

He looked hesitant as he made his way to her and handed her a folded magazine. It was the weekly crossword.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it as her gaze met his. The way he was looking at her was so compelling it was impossible for her to divert her eyes.

He had been thinking of her, she realised, he had noticed her absence, perhaps even missed her.

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.” His gaze trailed to the numerous papers scattered on the table.

“Not at all, a distraction is more than welcome.” The distraction of his presence was most desirable.

He drew closer, reading through them as he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Maths mostly,” she replied, fiddling with the parchments to hide her nervousness.

He reached out over her shoulder to grab a folder but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s still work.”

He dropped his arm. “You’re right, I apologise. I don’t wish to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“It’s fine.”

He stepped to the side, tickling her neck.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from grinning.

“Of course.” 

She watched him with desirous parted lips as he left. He said goodbye to Will and she heard the door closing. It was only a matter of minutes before Will came to pry.

She grabbed the crossword, flipping through the pages. He had bought her her favourite one.

As she got up to put it next to her bag, a small note fell to the ground. It was a plain piece of parchment. But as she picked it up, ready to throw it on the table with the rest of the documents, words started to appear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew to whom that elegant and neat handwriting belonged.

She read the note. Then read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. 

“I hope to see you more often in the future.

You look stunning with that lip colour.

T.R.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, staring at the words until each swirl of ink etched into her mind, terrified they might disappear.

Instead his message remained there, visible, tangible, real. He had taken time to write her a note, to think about something he knew she’d appreciate.

Something warm diffused in her chest, a new version of a familiar feeling, and a giggle escaped her as she realised the ridiculous effect he had on her. 

She was so engrossed in her reverie that she didn’t notice Will standing in the door until he cleared his throat. 

She quickly hid the message in her purse and  he was so considerate not to comment on it.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Awfully slowly, these numbers are all over the place,” she huffed, returning to her chair.

He dragged a chair and sat across from her. He started bouncing his knee. “I know you’d prefer not to talk about this, but how are things between you two?”

She stopped twirling her quill. “What do you mean?”

Will shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you but I’d hate to see you hurt.”

She tilted her head to the side, disliking the territory the conversation was heading towards.

He was struggling with his words. “He never- I never saw him interested in a girl. I just want to be sure you know what you can expect from him.”

She averted her eyes. “I have considered all the options.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Will!” she bursted out. 

Her flare of annoyance suddenly deflated, making room for embarrassment for what he probably saw as naivety.

“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself.”

“You are smart, I just can’t stand watching you smile at the things he writes to you.”

She feigned offence and threw a balled up paper at him. 

“When you find someone, you’ll be just as ridiculous.”

He laughed and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m curious to know, when did it start?”

She scrunched her eyebrows, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal. “I don’t remember exactly. It was more like a sequence of events, until one day I was anxiously waiting for him to sit at his usual spot at breakfast,” she replied with a smile. Will was smiling too.

“You and half of Hogwarts,” he said.

She chuckled. “I miss those years sometimes. Everything was simpler.”

“I used to worry about everything,” he admitted. “But fears always seem so big.”

They really did.

“What do you like about him?” he asked after a beat of silence.

It was her turn to be at a loss of words. “He’s handsome…and always so mysterious. I think I always liked him because it was easy to imagine him being exactly what I wanted.” She looked at him hesitantly, fearing judgement, but he was just listening. “But I think it’s impossible for me to dislike the real him.”

They shared a small moment of closure. She had always wished for someone she could confide in, someone that could help her see beyond the fabrications of her wary heart, and perhaps she had finally found them.

The bell chimed and Will got up. 

“Do you want to come for lunch on Sunday?” she asked.

“I’d love to. I’m sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze shifted between the door and her. “Just make sure you both want the same thing.”

He went back, leaving her at the mercy of her insidious brain and foolish heart.

Throughout the afternoon she had opened the note at least three times, giggling like a schoolgirl everytime she read his words.

Her mind kept straying to what he had said.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure what he had actually meant. Was he just going to stop by or was he going to wait for the office to close? She wasn’t even sure she could see him today, since she expected to stay late to solve Serena’s mess. 

Will popped in. “I have to check something at the owlery. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

The door opened and closed and then she was submerged by stillness. It was soothing almost.

She had found out long ago that she enjoyed being alone, it freed her of any kind of expectation.

She turned up the heating with her wand and took off her jacket. Since they couldn’t light a fireplace in a room full of paper, they had refined a spell that kept the room warm and the humidity away.

It was a few minutes after the usual closing hour that the door opened again. She knew who it was.

He walked in, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold and his lips reddened. 

“Are you still working?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll take a while before I’m free to go.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, grabbing her crossword and a quill and sitting down on a chair, bending one leg so that his ankle rested on his other knee.

Her face heated as she watched him but she didn’t say anything.

As she returned to her work, she realised that silence was a strange assistant. It felt like every sound was heightened and she was becoming keenly aware of everything that was happening. The scratching of their quill on parchment, paper being flipped as she checked the numbers or he looked for a crossword he liked, his soft breath threatening to pull her close like a magnet, her absentmindedly chipping her nail polish.

She kept throwing glances in his direction and she could feel his eyes on her from time to time.

An unspoken craving was growing between them again. She had waited long enough.

She slowly got up, gathering her reports and stacking them in a neat pile. She then took them and walked over to the shelves, conveniently passing by Riddle in doing so. 

As she stored them, his chair scraped on the ground and she felt him draw closer. She deliberately turned around, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was deep, like he was trying to read every thought that crossed her mind just by looking at her. She wasn’t going to lay them bare for him. 

He raised his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you get my message?”

“I did,” she replied, stepping forward and trailing her fingers down his suit jacket, feeling the fabric. “You keep mentioning it but this is the first time I’ve seen you all week.”

“It was storming all week,” he pointed out.

She tilted her head, finding his eyes again. His eagerness was palpable. “Still,” she said.

He grabbed her waist, pressing her body flush against his. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

She had thought about that moment since then.

“Tell me what you desire the most.”

What could she tell him? That she had been pining for him for so long she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else? That she was jealous of even thinking about him with someone else? Will’s words played in her mind.

She leaned closer, murmuring against his ear. “Not until I know why you’re here, Tom.”

She left a kiss on his jaw, phantom lips brushing against his flawless skin.

“It’s a really uncomplicated answer,” he said, caressing her back.

“Explain it to me, then.”

Tender amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I came here because I don’t own an owl?”

His words pulled at her heartstrings with raw delight and her mind went blank. Adrenaline was rushing through her as she listened to her impulses. It was enough, at least for now it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hand in his hair, involuntarily tugging at the strands as she leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath as he pulled her in, gripping the silky fabric of her blouse.

She met his lips halfway, the burning touch consuming her as he pressed her against the shelves, one hand lost in her hair, the other splayed around her ribcage. 

She bit his lower lip, smiling as it elicited a groan from him and the kiss became more demanding.

It was a moment frozen in time, where she wanted to stay forever, like the scenery in a snowglobe.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice abruptly pulled them apart. She was breathless as she realised she had forgotten to lock the door. Was this a conspiracy? 

Tom was slightly panting and she left a small kiss on his neck.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

She used a finger to fix her smudged lipstick and went to see who had just dared to interrupt them.

There was a man standing in the office.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“But I saw the light on.”

There was a twitch in her jaw. “We are closed to the public. I must ask you to come tomorrow morning.”

He rolled his eyes and she ignored his grumbling as he left, locking the door behind him. When she went back, Tom was leaning against the table.

He turned his head towards her as she languidly got closer. She forgot pleasantries, immediately grabbing his face to kiss him again. He was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her.

His mouth trailed down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then pressing against her neck, soft lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. 

He grabbed her waist and spun her around, flattening her back against his chest and brushing her hair away from her neck to bite and lick her skin. His hands travelled down and he started gathering the fabric of her skirt. 

Merlin, it was finally happening. 

He caressed her inner thigh, tracing patterns and snapping the nylon of her stockings as his fingers moved excruciatingly slow.

Finally he pulled her underwear to the side, feeling the wetness between her folds with his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast.

She threw her head back against his shoulder as he stroked her clit, eliciting a sigh out of her, and she grabbed his thigh for support.

“I won’t drop you,” he murmured, amused, against her ear. He rubbed his palm over her clothed breast, the friction causing sparks to jolt through her body.

None of her fantasies came even close to what she was feeling right now.

“Should I trust you?” she asked, biting her lip to suppress a moan as he sunk one finger inside of her, his thumb still applying pressure on her clit.

“Such a great timing to ask me that,” he replied. She felt him smile on her skin.

“We don’t really know each other, Tom.” She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped in a second finger and started fingering her, stretching her as pleasure morphed her features. 

“And yet you are letting me do this.” He squeezed her breast, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he kept moving his fingers inside of her. 

She leaned her body weight completely on him, her legs unsteady as it was precarious the beating of her heart. 

He let out a low moan as she yanked his hair to catch his mouth, biting his lip hard to gain better access, their tongues tangling together.

He curled his fingers inside of her, an unrelenting wave of pleasure washing over her.

She stopped to imagine what it would be like if he dropped to his knees again, if he started kissing and licking her, if she could watch him at her mercy between her legs.

She realised in that moment that the fall down the precipice was inevitable. Tom had threatened to push her but she had allowed him to succeed, jumping into an abyss that felt unending but that could only allow two conclusions to her story.

What she had told Will was true. She loved the fantasy, all the glances, conversations, gestures that had never happened, that she had delighted herself with when the reality was harsher, but as she kissed him she knew that falling for the real Tom was unavoidable. Not if he kept touching her like that.

It was bound to happen, it was part of her story, the decision she was brave enough to take.

She focused on him, on the circles his thumb was drawing on her clit, on the indecent sounds falling from her lips, on his groans on her reddened skin, on him growing harder against her back. 

He pulled her hair back, tilting her head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered with rapture while hers were heavy-lidded, tension building inside of her. 

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, as if he wanted to memorise each detail of her, the way she looked at him, the way her lips parted slightly and the way she panted as she was nearing her orgasm.

“Just like that, darling,” he murmured, a pleased smile on his lips as he noticed she was still blushing.

She threw her head back, losing herself in the motion of his fingers, surrendering herself as blissed moans spilled out shamelessly. She squeezed his soaked fingers, and he kept moving, stroking her throughout her climax.

She panted, coming down from her apex in a flurry of emotions and flustered thoughts. He raised his wet fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she sucked on them, never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said, holding her jaw and kissing her.

It was a slow kiss, meant to explore her depths in a different way from the breathless and unrestrained passion from before. She leaned into his palm, her hand closing around his wrist.

His arms snaked around her waist and he turned them around, pushing under her thighs to lift her on the table.

The kiss transformed again.

Teeth and tongues met with vehemence, burning urgency guiding their movements as he brought her legs around his waist and she quickly started to unbutton her blouse.

But at the third button, she stopped. 

Tom noticed the shift in her demeanour and drew back, observing her. Her eyes flew to the clock, as she had just remembered about Will.

She noticed with disappointment that they had no time.

“What is it?” he asked. She didn’t miss the urgent tone of his question.

“Will will be back any time now,” she replied, leaving a peck on his lips. 

He cleared his throat and stepped back, composing himself. She got off the table and

cool hands unexpectedly reached her again, adjusting her clothes and stockings. She shivered at the contact.

He smoothed her skirt and put his coat back on, watching her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

“If you want to stop by one of these days.”

“I remember where you live,” he replied, reading the address she had written down.

She shrugged, holding out one finger to wipe away the lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“I was supposed to meet with a potential supplier, so yes.”

“I’d stop by the bathroom before,” she advised, gesturing for him to go as she herself needed to compose herself again.

She braced herself against the threshold, leaning her head on the hard wood as she watched him unlock the door and leave. 

Then she was alone, finally finding an answer in the cluster of hypotheses that had tormented her mind.

Two days later, as she was returning from her meeting with Serena, she found Tom waiting for her.

He was talking to Will and they both turned to her as she entered, feeling tremendously self-conscious.

“How is Serena?” Will asked.

“Dim-witted as always,” she replied, earning a laugh from Will.

Her eyes trailed to Riddle, holding an unspoken question. 

Will seemed to notice because he stepped forwards.

“It’s quite late, you can go if you want, I’ll close.”

Tom didn’t wait for him to repeat himself, pushing down the handle and holding the door open for her.

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and followed Tom outside. Once in the street, she huddled herself in her coat and took the arm he was offering her. 

“May I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, a little breathy, still not immune to the chivalrous manners he always had with her.

They strolled through the streets, passing by scarcer and scarcer people as the stores emptied and everyone returned home seeking a tranquil evening.

She held his arm tightly, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his coat.

The first time they had walked together it had felt like an accident, a singular mistake in the already waved threads of her life. This time, she yearned for so much more than she wanted for the error to repeat itself; she was willing to cut the strings herself and tie them back together, as messy as it might have looked. 

They crossed the road and he gently put a hand on her waist, pushing her away from the pavement. 

“Would you fancy dinner?” he asked. There was a foreign quality in his voice and when she turned to look at him, he averted his eyes. She blinked bewildered. Was he nervous?

“I’d love to,” she replied and she noticed his chest rising like he had just begun breathing again. “But not tonight.”

An almost imperceptible smile cleared his expression at her answer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, basking in his mere presence.

When they reached her front door, she looked for her keys with embarrassingly clammy hands. 

As she lifted her head to ask Tom if he wanted to stay, she found his eyes impatiently boring into her bag. 

“Would you-”

His gaze snapped to her, serious and scorching. “Don’t even ask.”

Something coiled between her legs at the way he was looking at her. She nodded and walked up the few stairs to her door, unlocking it.

“Second floor,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

They stepped into the building, the sound of her heels and the soles of his shoes hitting the stone ricocheting through the empty hall.

She turned to gesture to him to follow her when he grabbed her face, kissing her as he pushed her against the wall by the foot of the stairs. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it just as she suspected he loved by the way he always pressed himself harder against her. 

He curved his palm around her cheek, better angling her face as their tongues met.

“I have a nosy neighbour,” she said after they pulled apart to catch their breath. “She is probably spying on us through her peephole.”

Tom didn’t think twice about it, taking her hand and leading her up to the second floor. She stifled a laugh as she unlocked the door, Tom’s lips skimming against her neck as she did, and was left breathless when he closed it unceremoniously behind them, resuming from where they had been interrupted.

As she dropped her bag and grabbed his waist, walking backwards into her living room, she remembered there were clothes somewhere - perhaps in the bathroom but she wasn’t sure - that she had forgotten to put away yesterday.

In any case, Tom didn’t look particularly interested in how tidy she was.

They quickly took off each other's coats and discarded them on the floor.

He sat on her sofa, pulling her down with him.

She was straddling him, her knees digging into the plush cushions as his hands appreciatively caressed her back, moving up and down and occasionally squeezing. She lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and eliciting a long awaited moan from him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, their lips collading so hard she was sure she cut him.

She helped him out of his jacket and vest and undid his tie, smoothing her hands on his white button-down.

“I’ve waited too long,” she said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and grinding against him. Her hands disappeared under his undershirt and ran over his pale chest, lightly scratching his skin.

“Slowly, my dear. We will get there,” he replied between kisses.

His palms kept tracing her thighs and his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the thin skin.

When she was a small girl, before she discovered sex, Tom Riddle was just a boy she liked. During puberty, sharing stories and questions with her friends, she started to understand what was the sensation that passed through her everytime she was close to him, the one that made her cheeks redden and her mind go somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable with.

As an adult, sexual relations weren’t unfamiliar to her, but this carnal longing, the need of a physicality that went beyond her skin touching his, was.

He opened her blouse, revealing her silk slip and bra underneath.

She wanted to touch his soul, to hold it and comprehend it.

Her eyes fell on the tattoo on his forearm, black tendrils of ink in the shape of a serpent slithering out of a skull.

“Does this have a meaning?” she asked.

He followed her gaze, blinking surprised at her question. “It does.”

“Am I prying too much if I say I’m curious to learn it?”

He bit his lip, opening and closing his fist as if he was scrambling for words. Or perhaps he was just determining if he could trust her.

“It’s a reinterpretation of the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail,” he finally said. “It symbolises eternity and the renewal of the being after rebirth.”

She traced her fingers on his skin, following the outline of the snake. “And what does your interpretation mean?”

“There is time to talk about it later,” he whispered, his teeth biting her neck and sinking lower, kissing her collarbone and her sternum, moving the fabric covering her breasts to the side.

She let go of the subject. She knew what it meant not being comfortable sharing your life.

He held one breast between his fingers, latching his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue around it.

She moaned, rolling her hips faster as he revered her bosom, the cold air hitting her moist skin and making her shiver as he took her other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging at it until she reached the point where pleasure and discomfort mixed.

“Since we are in the mood for confessions…” she said between moans. He raised his head and looked at her waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, collecting all her courage.

“Why did you pursue me?”

His eyes softened, glimmering with fondness. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Because there is something extremely valuable in your devotion.” His voice was an intimate murmur, a confession no one else could hear.

She freezed, turning her head to the side to hide her mortification.

He took her chin, searching for her eyes until she finally gave in.

“Don’t be embarrassed, darling, I respect it, I understand it. Obsession keeps us alive, it’s what drives us.”

She swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Being the object of the desire of such a woman? Of a witch? I do,” he replied, and he was so direct and earnest that her heart swelled.

He lifted her to sit on the sofa, sliding down on his knees on the floor and taking off his shirt and vest. She remained silent as he rolled down her tights, his lips gliding down her smooth skin. He unbuttoned her skirt and helped her out of it, tracing patterns on her inner thigh as his other hand felt her damp underwear.

She tensed, something tightening in her lower abdomen and her eyes fell down to his trousers.

He kissed the crease of the thigh, like he had done that one time at Borgin and Burkes, but this time she wasn’t letting anyone interrupt them. 

He took off her underwear, his movements deliberately slow, and kissed her everywhere, except there.

His lips felt hot on her skin, searing her flesh like she had often dreamed about, carving his way into her body the same way he had done with her mind and heart, until her entire soul was consumed by him, until he could finally close that fist and feel her in a way nobody had before. 

Her breath hitched as he delicately kissed her mound, spreading her legs apart. She leaned her head against the backrest, licking her lips with anticipation, and she couldn’t contain a whimper as he felt his tongue dragging down her slit, sweet and cruel.

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his hand splayed on her abdomen to keep her still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Look at me, darling,” he murmured against her folds. His breath was warm and pleasant.

She obliged, meeting his devilish grinning figure between her legs. She was incapable of looking away as he resumed his work, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to watch him, finally allowing herself to fully indulge in him, in what he wished to do for her.

She observed his curved eyelashes, the way his perceptive eyes followed her reactions, refining his movements to please her better.

He sucked her labia and she moaned loudly, the idea of him enjoying this as much as her being exhilarating.

He threw her leg on his shoulder, resulting in her figure sliding down the cushions and him gaining better access to her. 

His tongue probed her entrance as he coated his fingers in her wetness. He slipped one finger in, working her thoroughly as she gripped his hair, keeping his head in place.

He inserted a second finger, his tongue on her clit moving accordingly to the delighted sounds she emitted.

“Tom,” she cried urgently as she tried to press herself harder against him.

He curled his fingers inside of her and her hips jolted upwards, arching her back to an uncomfortable angle as she reached her orgasm with lascivious bliss, her obscene moans matching the wet sounds he produced by licking her until she came down from her climax.

“Tom,” she said again, so breathless her voice was a raspy whisper.

“I know,” he said, kissing her leg and inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as she let her watch.

She gently pushed him onto the carpet, bracing her hands on his shoulder as she sat on top of him. The fire was burning, enveloping their almost naked figures in warm orange light, heating their already scalding skin.

She took off her blouse with quivery hands, his gaze tracing her naked form that was slowly revealing itself. She hooked her fingers into the straps of her slip, pulling it down and then getting rid of it altogether. His hands on her waist tensed as she did the same for her bra.

Her lips parted as he touched her breast with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, tracing her areolae. 

She undid his trousers, pulling down the fabric until they were both completely naked. She took him in her hand, her fingers closing tentatively around him. Her hand started sliding up and down, her pace getting quicker and more confident as moans escaped him. She brushed her thumb on his tip, her eyes admiring what was in front of her. His lips were swollen, residue of her lipstick still on them, his hair was tousled, curls falling disorderly on his forehead, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at her. She felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing his current state was her doing, that she had enough power over him to ruin his flawless exterior, to make him want her to do it. 

His lips caught hers and he gently pushed her hand away. 

What happened after felt like rehearsed choreography, something so familiar it was impossible to forget. Their bodies moved together, their movements responsive to each other, doing and touching exactly where it mattered.

She pushed herself up on her knees, slowly lowering herself until she sank down on him completely, shuddering breaths escaping her lips.

His jaw was tense as she placed a hand on his shoulder for support, positioning herself better.

She didn’t break eye contact as she rolled her hips, soaking in the hazy blue of his eyes, in every twitch of his jaw and emotion he was feeling as she increased her pace, in his voice murmuring her name against her ear as his hands squeezed her tights and traced her back.

Skin slapped against skin, his touch inebriating as he felt every part of her, caressing her, massaging her, kissing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Almost.

His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her clit as she rocked her hips, eliciting groans from both of them.

Sentiment and pleasure fused together in an exhilarating moment, seared in her mind and flesh forever.

She kissed him again - she could never get tired of that - and bit his lower lip roughly as his other hand went to her breast again, pulling at her nipple. 

She threw her head back, letting his mouth scrape over her neck and chest, leaving behind scorching wet kisses. Or perhaps those were marks reddening her skin, she didn’t particularly care.

He gripped her waist, thrusting upwards as she held onto him tighter. Her nails drew half-moons into his back and she bit his neck, the fibres of the carpet scratching her knees.

The lights in the flat fluttered momentarily.

His fingers increased the pressure on her clit as his thrusts grew in intensity with one purpose in mind. 

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, to prolong this instant of pure bliss before she inevitably plummeted onto the other side.

She arched her back, moving accordingly to his rhythm, her hips bucking erratic as she rubbed against his pelvis. 

And then she fell down, unrestrained, her walls closing around him as she moaned uncontrollably. He didn’t stop, drawing circles on her sensitive skin until her breath found a semblance of steadiness again. 

“You did so good,” he whispered against her forehead, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away.

She slumped against him, her hands grabbing onto his biceps as he chased his own pleasure, his movements turning frantic, losing his rhythm.

She found herself murmuring against his skin the same things she had never had the courage to say out loud, not even to herself. She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, engrossed as he was, but it didn’t matter.

He squeezed her tights once and she understood, rolling to the side as he deftly touched himself, fast strokes that culminated in white spurts all over his hand. She watched him mesmerised

He turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire casted shadows on his gorgeous face. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, gazing into each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking, making sense of what remained of themselves after what had just happened.

Did it have the same momentous effect on both of them? Or was it just her that knew she couldn’t go back to being acquaintances after this?

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked. Her voice sounded faint and husky to her own ears.

“I do,” he replied without a second of hesitation.

They didn’t get up, instead resting against the foot of her sofa. She curled up against him as his hand traced indistinct patterns on her skin, remaining in this haze of indiscernible unspoken feelings they were both still trying to find a name for. 

When she woke up the next morning he was gone. As she took in the cold sheets and missing clothes, her heart threatened to crack.

She got up groggily, conclusions already forming in her mind, building the most pessimistic of pictures.

She felt anxious as she wore her robe and opened the door, heading straight for the bathroom. Halfway down the corridor, the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper halted her in her steps.

She stepped into the kitchen, finding Tom sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said back, adjusting the belt of her robe. 

She noticed he had made breakfast, a steaming coffee pot, kept warm by magic, and some pastries she had never bought waiting for her on the table. 

She turned to take a mug from a cabinet so that she could hide her smitten smile. When she closed the cabinet, she found him looking at her.

There was no need for words.

“Where did you get that?” she asked as she poured herself some coffee, referring to the newspaper. 

“I stole it from your neighbour, I hope she won’t mind.”

She laughed. “So you know how to make a joke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sat next to him, crossing her legs. She perhaps needed to rethink her choice of slippers.

“You were always so serious growing up.”

She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee. 

“That never seemed to deter you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “Good.”

“Does it deter you, knowing how I feel?”

He blinked. “It never had. It makes it more interesting if I have to be honest.”

She blushed, scared to ask the next question.

“How long have you known?”

He got up, brushing his knuckles on her cheek.

“Long enough to see you for who you truly are.” 

He bent to give her a chaste kiss. “I should go, the shop opens in half an hour.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his leather gloves from his pocket. She turned in her chair, treasuring the last few moments of him in her apartment.

“There’s still a lot you haven’t learned yet.” 

She refused to be an open book to him. There was so much about her that was still incomprehensible even to her and too much she wanted to show him on her own terms. She wanted to be enigmatic, to drive him mad.

“I know.”

Her disappointment was visible on her face as she was met with his silence. She had wanted to continue that conversation, to learn what he had observed.

Instead he opened her front door, throwing her one last glance, heavy with unsaid intention she hoped she wasn’t imagining, before leaving. 

She had almost finished her breakfast when she noticed a small note under the newspaper he had left behind. She grabbed it faster than she was willing to admit, almost knocking over her cup in the process, and unfolded it.

“Dinner tonight?

I’ll pick you up at eight.

T.R.”

the last part is a bonus scene i wanted to write to apologize for my tardiness. tom is a little different, but I hope he isn't too out of character.

i honestly had so much fun writing this short story and exploring a different tom from the one i usually read and write about. i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading!

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Womanizer ft. Geto

womanizer!Geto is very much aware of how fine he is. Struts through the school with his head and nose way to fuckin high in the air. You think the hungry way the girls look at him might actually feed his energy, he seems to literally level up from it and its absolutely ridiculous. But don't think he doesn't notice how your burning gaze rake over him before you pretend it has no effect on you.

womanizer!Geto even though he's hella cocky, still has a soft heart; just doesn't want anyone to about it. Whether it's of monetary value or not, he'll help any way he can. Suguru might be sex on a stick and confident as fuck but he isn't heartless. Only Saturo knows this side of him.. Till one night when he tried to play match maker and end up spilling the beans to you.

womanizer!Geto isn't just a pretty face, so doesn't like his girls brainless. Unless its cause of his cock ofcourse. He doesn't keep em long but expects to get a bit familiar before he tries to hit. Doesn't think anyone not pursuing a higher knowledge is really worth his time. Interesting lil fact: of all the years Suguru's known you, he swiftly peeps how intelligent you are and always been.

womanizer!Geto obviously loves attention from the ladies. Like waaay too much. Turns you off matter fact. And he notices. Which is weird. Cause he usually only notices when women throw themselves at his feet. "Goin to Geto's party inna few weeks? Come on, hang with us? Could use another pretty face there." Suguru over hears Satoru ask you after class. "Hmmm.. Maybe. Though I think you two horny sluts have enough eye candy on the menu." You answer with a eye roll. "Me? We? Sluts?" He feigns ignorance as you shake your head laughing. Meanwhile, Suguru wonders when in the world has he ever thought bein called a slut was arousing cause.. His dicks startin to chub.

womanizer!Geto isnt really into easy women. Most of the cute lil thangs from school put out just watchin that talented tongue swipe across his bottom lip. Knows he doesn't have to do much work and sometimes that puts him off. He doesn't even like to talk with a woman if he doesn't think he's gonna hit but nothin gets his dick softer than a girl that open her legs to him before she even knows his name. Funny though.. Suguru notices you don't date. At all. Kinda wonders what it would take to get a chance with your pretty ass. So he asks you one day while you guys practice sparring. "Y/n, how long have we known each other?" Straightening from your fighting stance, absolutely befuddled as you answer. "Bout 5+ years, as you already know. Why?" Suguru steps closer, trailing his index finger down your cheek. "Cause I wanna know why in the 5 years that you've known me, you've never given me a chance." You tsk at him. Is he serious? "Boy, ya dick been in every one under the sun." You're response throws him off, makes him chuckle as he thinks about your words. You ain't lyin. He uses protection though.

womanizer!Geto has always had a high sex drive. Except lately. He just doesn't know why he can't get it up when he's not thinkin about you. Hasn't been interested in any of his usual conquests lately. To add to the madness, jerking offs become a pain in the ass if he doesnt let you swim into his thoughts. So he sulks and pouts about it in class one day- till he sees heading to your seat. Suguru's dark eyes are glued to how your tits slightly jiggle in your robe as you walk. Man, would bet every single penny he had that you're fuckin gorgeous everywhere. "Hi, y/n" "Hey, Sugu! Wassup?" Oh shit.. No, no, no, no.. Cute way you say his name, moist pretty plump lips, and that fuckin body.. His dick. His dick is definitely what's up right now.

womanizer!Geto usually has a harem of cute girls following him around like puppies. Not the night of his party, he trails after you like one instead. "Come on y/n, just gimme a chance." He a bit tipsy so you continuously evade him. You're soakin wet from dodging Suguru's advances, his nasty words and exploring fingers. So you head into the kitchen to poor yourself a drink and gets some space. Unfortunately for you he meets you there and you groan at his persistence. "Geto, quit it. You're just horny. And there's plenty of fuck toys round here for you to play with. So beat it." You grumble. Suguru whines at your rejection, cornering you as you try to side step him. "Don't like when you're mean to me. Or when you call me that." He lies through his teeth. Only one of those two sentences are true. "Fine, Sugu. Happy? Now go find one of your playthings. Fuckin manwhore." Okay now hes perplexed, your mean words having the same effect when you called him a slut. Suguru thinks you should know since it's your fault. He pins you to the counter, pressing his hard dick into you. You gasp, fingers gripping into the sides of his shirt, havin to fight not to let your eyes flutter shut at his bulge pressuring your tingly clit. "Can't, y/n. Dick never gets hard for them anymore. Have fucked in weeks. Can't even cum without you on my mind. Help me out, baby pleeaase." You've never seen him so desperate, pawing at your backside as he sticks his face in your neck. Won't stop dry humping and licking you as he inhales your scent. "Sugu-" He cuts you off, pleas wearing you down real quick. "Promise I can make you feels so good. Know how to make that lil kitty purr, baby. Lemme show you?" You're eyes trail off over his shoulder as you think about it. Fuck, why not? He's the most wanted attraction in town, how could not get a ride too? You accidently catch Saturo's gaze. Grin wide when he does a peace sign, sticking his tongue between the two fingers and wiggling it. He points at Suguru and gives you a thumbs up, signalling how good his BFF's pussy eating skills are. Shit, that seals the deal; you def need a demonstration. "Fine, Sugu." You feign irritation, pushin him back and pullin him towards his bedroom. "Better not disappoint me. Not gonna get another chance, playboy." Promises of your pleasure spill from Suguru's lips as you drag him by his t-shirt, him secretly hoping you'll continue your lil mean act while riding his cock.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 7 🍒

"Swimming in Stars"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2,256

Summary: you and Joel enjoy a little one-on-one time in the pool and discuss your concerns about your first time together..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), slow burn, talk of sex and expectations regarding reader's first time, talk of using protection (a must, y'all!), dry humping, reader's race not mentioned, reader wears a swimsuit, story takes place in summer 2003, no use of y/n

Author's Note: this chapter is super significant to me as it highlights just how important communication is when it's going to be a couple's first time together, and especially when there's an age gap.

Series Masterlist

Joel has one rule: that you take your time. He doesn't want to rush you or make you feel like he won't wait for you because honestly, as he tells you before you go your separate ways that same summer night, "You're worth waitin' for."

Naturally it's impossible for you to sleep that night. So much has happened in just a couple of weeks. It seems that the moment you've stepped outside of the safety of the environment you've known your whole life, you're seeing exactly what opportunities await you.

And you really want this opportunity with Joel.

Now the ball is entirely in your court. You call the shots. And you don't even know where to begin except you know you want to spend more time with him. You like Joel a lot, and you want to get to know him better.

You spend the rest of the weekend with your cousin before she leaves for an international flight. Truth is, you haven't spent much time together, and it's nice to get out of the house with her to go to the mall and the movies. But every other thought is about Joel. What's he doing right now? Is he thinking of you?

Your attention is easily diverted from the latest Fast and Furious movie, and when Sofia goes for a quick restroom break you pull out your phone and text Joel: Pool party tonight. Just us. 10 pm.

Putting your phone back in your purse your heart pulsates with excitement at the riskiness of the text. You're not that bold, but somehow he makes you so.

You let the rest of the movie distract you, but truth be told you can't remember the rest of it even five minutes after leaving the theater. It's not until you're back home that you see he's replied: I'll be there, sweetheart

Sofia leaves that evening, and you are alone. You get ready, wearing the same swimsuit as last time, knowing Joel liked you in it before. You don't know what to expect of the evening, because quite honestly you invited him over on a whim. 10 o'clock comes around a lot sooner than you think, and so you lounge out on a lounge chair float, watching the stars, trying to still the rapid beating of your heart.

You hear a knock at the side gate and then a hesitant swinging open of the gate door.

"You gonna join me?" you ask. You see Joel out of the corner of your eye and smirk. "Or are you just gonna stare?"

You hear the low rumble of his chuckle and it makes your heart melt. "I'm a visual guy. I like watchin' you like that. You look so damn pretty. I just about ran every red light all the way from Tommy's place just to get here to you."

Heat colors your skin. "And Sarah? Where's she?"

"At a friend's house."

That fact seems to hang in the air between you. Now you're alone together, the discussion from yesterday seems to be the elephant in the room, so to speak.

"So you're gonna watch?" you break the silence. "Or are you gonna join me?"

He takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, a playful little smile on his lips. He looks so relaxed, so at ease in your company. "I didn't bring anything to swim in."

"You've got boxers on, right?"

"Maybe."

You chuckle, seeing that he's trying to be hard to read. You climb out of the pool and wrap a towel around your midsection, joining him on the lounge chair, in his lap. Your heart is beating like a bird trapped in a cage but it's so thrilling to finally be alone with him. He sits up and holds you, strong arms wrapping around you. In this moment you're both quiet, enjoying this tender moment. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, fingertips tracing your arms and your sides. When you kiss him it's soft and sweet, almost innocent, the tips of your tongues barely meeting.

"That night at our pool party," you tell him in an intimate whisper, "we were playing in the pool and when we hugged, I felt.. you know."

Joel slows his touch but doesn't stop. "I remember."

"Was that.. because of me?"

He gives a sarcastic little snort. "Sweetheart, your thighs were practically locked around my head. My thoughts of you were indecent. So yeah I was rock hard."

You shiver and he grabs you tighter. "That night, after I walked you home, I touched myself. I fantasized about you." It feels good to say it now, now that it's not a deep and terrible secret.

"Oh god, sweetheart. I did the same."

Every single drop of water in the pool cannot possibly douse the fire you feel in your veins for this man.

"What did you fantasize about me that night?" His breath is warm on your cheek.

"I fantasized about what you would feel like.. inside me."

A low growl escapes his throat. "You still want that from me? Want me inside?"

"Yes," you reply, even as a flurry of turmoil grows in your belly. "Soon," you reiterate.

This seems to calm him, as his breathing evens out, his gentle touch returns. "Might I ask one little favor, sweetheart?" His voice is tinged with honey. "Would you give me a little massage?"

Smiling, you brazenly straddle his lap, gently kneading his shoulders. You love the feel of his skin beneath your touch, and you marvel at how soft yet how strong he is capable of being. "You need someone to do this for you every day.."

And beneath you, you feel his desire stirring. Just a few light layers of clothing separate you. "If there were two of you, then yeah, I'd want this every day."

You laugh. "That's kinky. Why two of me? Are you saying I'm not enough on my own?" There's a teasing note in your voice.

"One of you to give me a massage and the other to make me a sandwich." He laughs as he ducks your playful whack. "What I meant to say is that with two of you.. there's more to admire?"

Nerves afire with your lively banter, you gently push your hips down on his. "Think of all the things you could do with two of me.."

His hands grip your hips firmly, squeezing. "Oh my damn god, sweetheart.. I want you so damn much," he growls.

"Then have me, Joel," you say, so easily, as if switching on a light. Your mind is clouded with lust, and every move you make is based purely on instinct rather than emotion. "You won't hurt me, will you?"

Joel sighs, his eyes soft even as he's hard other places. "Hell no. I'm gonna be so damn gentle with you."

You bite your lip, scooting off him a little to undo his belt but he gently stops you. "I need you to wait," he says.

You freeze. "What's wrong?"

"Sweetheart, you want it too fast. I'm going to give you what you want, but not like this." Frustrated, he buries his face in your neck. "God damn it I just wanna do the right thing by you."

"I guess there are a lot of specifics to work out," you murmur gently, caressing the nape of his neck.

"Such as?" he cuddles into your neck.

You feel a little embarrassed, but if you're going to eventually sleep with him you have to be able to be honest with him. "We have to think of where to do it, whether we should have a date beforehand to lead up to it. And I'm not on birth control, so we'd have to consider protection."

His hand caresses the small of your back. "We could do it at either your place or mine, and I like the idea of having a nice little romantic date beforehand." He gently traces the curve of your face with his fingertips. "I want you to feel safe with me, sweetheart. I'll get some condoms. Hell, we'll probably go through a whole box real quick."

You give a sigh of relief. "I like that we're talking about this, Joel. I don't want to go into this blind."

"I'm gonna be here for you every step of the way, even if you decide you don't want to go through with it," he swears. Looking away a moment he seems to collect himself. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"What do you mean? How would you hurt me?" you gently turn his face to look at you.

He sighs. "I don't want to be too much for you, too intense for you, especially when you've never had anyone else before. You don't know just how fuckin' bad I desire you."

"Joel.. when the time comes for us to be together, I'm going to trust you not to hurt me, not on purpose. I've heard the first time can hurt anyway, but that kind of pain will be worth it, to be with you."

He whispers your name and kisses you, stiffening when you pursue it with more passion, pressing yourself against him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "You're right. I want everything right now, but I'm not thinking. Oh god, I need a distraction," you whine. "A cold shower or something."

"A shower's out of the question just now, but I have the next best thing to cool you off," Joel chuckles and picks you up, carrying you bridal style over to the pool and it's only at the last second that you realize what he's about to do and you screech as he drops you into the water.

You surface, sputtering and wiping the water from your face. "What the hell?" Joel's gleeful chuckle sounds in your ears right before he splashes in beside you. He grabs you by the waist, both of you weightless in the water. He's rid himself of his clothes except for his boxer briefs.

"Come here," he says, kissing your lips. "You're one hell of a girl.."

He's easily forgiven. If anything you love that you've brought out this mischievous side of him. "And you're one hell of a man.." you wrap your arms around him, whispering in his ear. "And you let your guard down too easily," you tell him, pouncing on him and pushing him underwater before swimming away, laughing as you swim away.

He comes up and swims right after you, making you squeal. "You shouldn't have gotten in the pool if you didn't want to get wet." you warn him.

"Shouldn't have invited me over if ya didn't want me to get you wet," he quips, pressing you against the side of the pool where you're both semi-shrouded in darkness. "God, sweetheart, you do not know what you do to a man."

"What about what you're doing to me?" Pressed close together you feel his hardness, and now that it's just the two of you you're free to explore this, to feel the rigidity of his desire for you. "Joel.. please just rub up against me.." you ask.

This elicits another growl from him, and even in the darkness you can see the hunger in his eyes. He does as you ask, albeit gently at first, testing to see how much you want.

You gasp as you feel him, thinly veiled by the wet confines of your swim clothes. He knows exactly where you need his touch, and it's like a shock of electricity to feel that pressure on your clit. "Feels good.. right there," you whisper, clinging to him.

He kisses you deeply, pressing a bit harder, smiling when your breath hitches and becomes quicker. "You like this, sweetheart? Oh this ain't nothin' compared to the real thing."

"Joel," you whimper. "Keep going like this.. please.."

The water splashes around you as you try to keep your cries to a minimum. How can only touching feel so good? How many nerve endings can you possibly stimulate? It's as if you've never really known what your body can do, what it can become under someone else's touch.

Touching.. that's all it is. But it's enough to drive you to the edge. There's that familiar feeling, like when you're on a roller coaster and your heart leaps into your throat just before you take the first sharp dive. "Joel!" you moan, kissing him to muffle your sounds as you come: a quick, sweet shot of lightning in your veins.

As your body relaxes, Joel backs off so as not to overstimulate you, but keeps his arm around you, stroking your damp hair.

"Sorry if I was selfish," you mumble.

He laughs and puts his hand on your cheek. "You're not selfish at all. We both wanted it. And sweetheart, you look fuckin' angelic when you come." His voice is husky and sweet as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

You're still reeling from this experience, and in the aftermath of your orgasm you have clarity of mind, as if all your troubles have melted away. You know you'll be grateful to Joel forever. "What about you? You didn't even.."

He smiles. "Don't worry about me. You're more important."

"Are you gonna.. take care of it later?" you smirk.

"One of these days I hope you'll feel comfortable takin' care of me yourself," he smirks, making your heart do a flip flop, and you pull him closer before the night comes to an end.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[ursemma]

Video games: chuck bass × f!reader

Warnings:

Being friends with benefits with Chuck Bass on a random summer break wasn't bad until you caught a disease called love. Willing to do anything to make him fall inlove with until you realise he's still in love with Blair.

Based on lana del rey's song video games

Swinging in the backyard

Pull up in your fast car

Whistling my name

Open up a beer

And you say, "Get over here

and play a video game"

I was swinging in my backyard, and I heard chuck calling my name "y/n" he came with a scotch glass in his hand, "wanna play our game?" i chuckled while walking towards him, our game meant a no string attached fuck.

Well atleast for him because it meant more than something to me.

I'm in his favourite sundress

Watchin' me get undressed

Take that body downtown

I wore his favourite purple sundress with a high slit, just how he likes it, "strip" he said and i started undressing under his intense gaze, hunger and lust flashed in his eyes as he kissed me, and the afternoon went just how we wanted.

I say, "You the bestest"

Lean in for a big kiss

Put his favourite perfume on

Go play your video game

"oh god you're the best" I said while trying to catch my breath. He leaned in for kiss and said, "I need to leave for work" I nodded at him and watched as he perfumed himself, "good luck" I wished him knowing how hard he was working, he gave me a smile and went for his work.

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I sighed deeply as I knew he would never love me back, I did everything I could to make him feel something about me but everytime I try, nothing works out. The reason I agreed to this FWB thing because I love him.

I still remember the day i was hanging out at a bar where I met him. The only thing he said was "you look lonely, mind if I join you?" And that's how we ended up in his bed.

All he asked was for simple fuck with no feelings but having attachment issues really didn't helped a bit.

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

The Upper East side was surely missing their it girl and the queen b, Heard the IT girl and the queen B are back in town from their trip to paris.

Well I hope S you've made your decision, surely you don't wanna walk down the campus single.

And as for B I heard our bad boy is single, but the question is his bad girl available though?

You know you love me,

Xoxo, Gossip Girl.

I sighed at the gossip girl blast, I mean she is true isn't she? He likes girls like Blair Waldorf.

Smart, independent, Queen B, pretty and beautiful, and me? I'm not even close to her.

Suddenly I got a text from chuck, telling me to be ready at 5, we've a party to attend, and my mood instantly lit up.

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

Is he trying? I don't know. I'm not getting my hopes high.

I got ready according to the theme, which was, saints and sinners masquerade ball. I don't know but I'm getting weird feelings of it.

Singin' in the old bars

Swingin' with the old stars

Livin' for the fame

We arrived at the ball and every one was busy dancing, and chit chatting.

I went to the drinks counter and drank whiskey, I heard flashing of cameras every where, you can see the paparazzis through the door.

My mind wondered to chuck. Where was he?

Kissin' in the blue dark

Playin' pool and wild darts

Video games

He holds me in his big arms

Drunk and I am seeing stars

This is all I think of

I heard everyone gasping, i went towards the crowd to see, chuck and Blair kissing and hugging eachother. His games.

I ran with tears running down my eyes and I ended up in a bar.

I finally calmed down, and decided to go home, but I bumped into someone and my purse fell down.

Him and I, we both bent down to pick it up at the same time and our hands brushed eachother, it felt weird.

I looked up and saw his beautiful ocean eyes and a smile that can light up the town.

"Hi I'm Nate Archibald" he said while grinning, and giving his hand for handshake, "I- I know, I mean hi I'm y/n l/n".

.

[violetasteracademic]

Taylor Swift x Elriel

Just a (pared down, believe it or not) collection of my favorite Taylor Swift lyrics that remind me of Elriel. I have a whole collection and I'm not ashamed.

Timeless

That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs Story of a romance torn apart by fate Hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did And I'd die for you in the same way if I first saw your face

In the 1500s off in a foreign land And I was forced to marry another man You still would've been mine We would have been timeless I would've read your love letters every single night And run away and left it all behind You still would've been mine We would've been timeless 'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine We would've been timeless

Untouchable

Untouchable, burning brighter than the sun And when you're close, I feel like coming undone

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream It's like a million little stars spelling out your name You gotta come on, come on Say that we'll be together Come on, come on Little taste of heaven

Cruel Summer

And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Sweet Nothing

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Paper Rings

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh-huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this Uh-huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want

I Can See You

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I've been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

Ivy

How's one to know? I'd live and die for moments that we stole On begged and borrowed time So tell me to run Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become And drink my husband's wine

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

Let me know if you have any adds!

[pearl-blue-musings]

what a lovely idea for a comfort night, thank you elle!

may I please request a little something for katsuki bakugo and the song is "Come Hell or High Water" by Imminence

tysm 💖

Everyone needs some comfort and I know I need some extra right now ♥️♥️

He always told you to never watch the news. Especially when he was doing a majorly dangerous assignment. He didn’t need you worrying over him while he’s out and about saving lives. That would make things worse for him, he wouldn’t be able to focus on his hero duties.

So why are you frantically scanning through channels and spamming his phone?

The footage on tv has been unhelpful as he went down over and hour ago. You weren’t able to contact any hospitals as they usually call you. Plus, the news stopped covering him once the villains were arrested and the main heroes in charge wrapped everything up. And he always calls you, commenting that hearing your voice after a fight makes it all worth it.

The fight ended an hour ago and you were getting restless. You pace around your apartment frantically as tears come to your eyes. You’ve tried your breathing and grounding exercises but all you e managed is to twist the ring around your finger more and more.

A noise at the door alerts you and your senses are on high alert. You’ve practically stopped breathing when the lock clicks and the door swings open. All of your fears are released as you bound for the door with tears in your eyes. “Katsuki,” you wail. As he shuts the door behind him, he throws his mask to the ground and burrows you in his arms, catching you from running toward him.

Bakugou cradles your head and calmly shushes you. “I’m here, princess. I got stuck in some rubble,” he coughs out. “Deku got the cameras away as I escaped so you wouldn’t see me all hurt. You were watchin weren’t ya?” You pout a bit before nodding your head. He rolls his eyes and kisses your lips softly. He picks you up bridal style, kicking off his boots and walks toward your shared room. You can still smell the cologne he had on earlier that day with his natural scent. All of your energy from worrying catches up to you and you find yourself falling asleep in his arms.

Bakugou catches your soft snores a before placing you on the bed. He kisses your forehead and whispers, “‘m sorry for scarin ya. I’ll be better about it, I promise.”

Elle’s (non) wine night!

[atinycafe]

"what are ya watchin?"

your cheeky question reaches jongho's ears as you gaze at him. he lies next to you in your bed, keeping his eyes fixed on his phone with airpods nestled in his ears. he doesn't respond, not because he's upset, but because he knows how you act when you crave attention. you tend to become whiny and adorable, so he figures it's worth ignoring you for a few minutes in exchange for a night of cuddling.

he senses your eyes on his profile and suppresses a smile. you extend a hand from beneath the covers, attempting to swipe one of his airpods, but he tilts his head away, denying your attempt. you prop yourself up higher in bed so you can get a better view of the video, but he turns his phone away.

you stare at him in shock, mouth agape, puzzled by his actions. you emit high-pitched whines about him being mean, and he finally bursts into laughter. you try to grab his phone, but he stretches his arm outside of the bed, keeping it out of your reach. you tumble onto his chest, trying to snatch it from his grasp, but he encircles his arm around your waist, preventing you from falling off the bed as he draws you closer against his chest.

"choi jongho!" you exclaim, locking eyes with him, his face smirking, and you scream, "what are you hiding?"

"nothin," he lazily smiles.

"then show me your phone," you retort, your face now mere millimeters from his, your noses almost touching.

"nah," he drawls, smirking at the sight of your angry expression. he relishes seeing you worked up.

you manage to free yourself from his hold and position yourself back on your side of the bed. turning so your back is turned to him, you cross your arms and tightly shut your eyes, attempting to sleep off your anger.

he chuckles and turns towards you, pressing his chest against your back. he holds the phone in front of your eyes, its screen still illuminated. you perceive the flickering lights through your closed eyelids and open them, only to be greeted by a random call of duty playthrough.

you slap the phone away, and he chuckles against your neck. he shuts off the phone and drops it somewhere on the bed. then, he maneuvers you so that you're face-to-face with him.

before you can push him away, he pulls you in for a leisurely kiss, and you melt in his embrace, clutching his t-shirt tightly in your fists. he breaks the kiss with a smile and draws you even closer to him. throughout the night, he peppers your lips with tender kisses until you drift off to sleep, laughing in between kisses as he makes fun of you.

masterlist

[anarchy-and-piglins]

For some reason potatoes seemed to grow very well in this place.

Ranboo hadn’t expected them to, given the dry soil and the constant heat. But people always said potatoes were hardy, and that they could survive anywhere. When he arrived, Ranboo had some to spare - he couldn’t remember where he got them, what farm they came from - so he thought it was worth a try. Michael liked the Nether food. Ranboo’s endermen genes meant he could eat almost anything in a pinch. But they needed a dependable food source.

The potatoes helped a lot and they reminded them both of home, in that painful way a lot of memories festered. Like if holding them too tight could cut straight to his bones, but letting them go felt more painful still.

Sometimes he would read his book just because he didn’t want to forget how much it hurt.

Yet the potatoes grew, despite the lack of water. The vines crept up the side of the cabin and these days Ranboo had to cull them because they were getting out of hand. Like they were competing with some invisible foe in how abundant they could grow. Michael helped him, because he was a good kid. And when a piglin patrol passed by, Ranboo would give them some of his harvest because it felt right.

He was happy.

Hoglins strayed away from their little house. Ranboo didn’t have to be worried about Michael when he went outside to play or look for chickens. They would never go hungry. They slept soundly. They felt safe.

The ground was alive with fire and soaked with blood.

And Ranboo could feel the phantom touch of Technoblade putting his hand on the back of his neck affectionately, the heat of a burning mansion on his cheeks.

“Divine protection,” he had said, “is not something you notice in grand gestures. It’s always those little things that show you when somebody is watchin’ over you.” The totem gleamed in his hand.

“Thank you,” Ranboo said now, hands stained with Netherrack and basket full of potatoes.

He hoped one day Techno would visit instead of only sending his patron around, and then Ranboo could thank him in person. But until that happened, he would make the recipes that his mentor had taught him.

And they too tasted like home.

(OR: headcanon that bc the Nether is the Blood God's domain, it keeps an eye on Ranboo and Michael on Techno's request and keeps them safe. That's why the potatoes grow so well)

[milkbreadandtadpoles]

soup and stars

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚

snip: you keep sukuna's favorite after workout drink in your fridge. and no, you don't frequent that store. sukuna looks at you like you hung the moon and painted the sky yourself when you're either on the brink of death or not paying attention (it's only with his eyes, though. he's a certified rbf). the two of you have been hooking up for over a year with little conversation outside of snarky comments and emojis he doesn't get.

and he sometimes takes care of you when you're sick for five hours only.

warnings: suggestive language, sukuna being a parallel of this guy i used to hookup with who was srsly emotionally constipated and really milked my daddy issues, reader being dumb (lol me), probably a lot of run on sentences and weird descriptions but i am not srry ab it, no Y/N here, a lot of parentheses for some reason

authors note: omg hey. i have this a03 and i thought i'd put a tumblr to pair it together cuz i had an old tumblr but i was kinda done w her (may she rest in peace!) anywayyy my name is lillie, hi again. hope u enjoy this!! luv me some sukuna who reminds me of all my bad flings.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚

Since when did you get sick like this?

This time, not that time you lied to your boss, you have an actual stomach bug. Stomach thing. Food poisoning from bad sushi. You don't know.

What you do know, however, is that everything smells bad, you can’t stomach anything other than a handful of saltine crackers. You couldn’t even finish your coffee yesterday morning; you’re just coming down from a fever. Everything is hot and cold, nothing feels right on your skin. Noises are too loud, but the silence is making your ears bleed. 

Curled up into the sheets, you shiver. It rocks over you, feeling cold despite your body burning off whatever infection is brewing in your gut. Your skin feels crusty yet damp, scalp itchy and pulled back into two haphazard buns. Stray strands lay over your forehead that twinkles with cold sweat.

Vampire Diaries plays in the background, volume loud enough so you can hear where you’re at within the series but quiet enough to give you grace if you wish to take another four hour nap. You don’t even want to get on your phone, ignoring the occasional, silent buzzes and flashing light that draw your eyes away from the fuzz of your blanket.

Time passes in a druken haze, not knowing whether you slept or not, not feeling entirely there at all. You fail to count the amount of times you got up to throw up or sit on the toilet, thankful the walls are snug enough to rest your head on the wall of it to contemplate if it’s worth passing out before you gather your wits and crawl back into bed.

There’s a rustle in your sheets, a distant sound of intro music for the vampire show.

“You still watchin’ this shit?” A gruff voice sounds from above you.

Your brows furrow in your sleepy haze- you don’t have energy to fight an intruder, pulling the sheets over your head that throbs from lack of everything. Horribly big hands paw at the clothed dip in your waist. And you let out a mixture of a whine and huff at the realization that your little fling (if you could even call it that) picked a horrible day to play.

“Sukuna,” You murmur, drawing the blankets higher above the crown of your head before he has a chance to yank it down and see your very unprepared self, “Not a good time.”

Sukuna, an occasional fuck and lackluster addition to your friend group, scoffs a laugh, muttering something about you really being a freak, something about thanking your dad for giving you all these issues that only he can handle as he gropes the flesh of your ass.

And it would feel so lovely if you weren’t on the brink of death.

“Eggroll. All the eggrolls.”

He groans, lifting his hand away from you in agreement to the safe word (because that one time when the two of you didn't have one and you reacted that way actually scared the shit out of him). 

“I’m sick.” You add quietly, urging your body to morph into a tighter ball. If Sukuna were his younger brother, or his younger brother’s friend, you’d ask either of them to cover you with another blanket. Or to refill your water bottle. Maybe even run to the store down the road and grab you some soup. But this is Sukuna, and-

There’s a harsh tug at the blanket covering your head, and you try to weakly grip the fabric in place.

“That’s why you didn’t answer my text? ‘Cause you’re all disgusting and shit?” He questions, giving one more quick tug to reveal your messy hair, the tint to the apples of your cheeks. The way his gaze feels makes the very top of your gut churn, and you scrunch your face as you decide whether or not you need to puke again.

“Mhm.” You nod, begging for the fabric back with a soft tug. Sukuna relents, snorting as you cover your head back up.

His body weight makes your bed frame squeak as he repositions himself to slouch next to you, and you peer at him through the crack of the blanket. He pulls out his phone, typing on it lazily. Through your bubbling stomach, confusion festers simply because he isn’t moving.

“Thought you not replying was you trying to be cute ’n shit.” A hand makes its way onto your lower back, the weight of it making your eyes bulge in silent surprise. With all your strength, you shake your head and whisper a soft sorry. He tuts, like all weirdly immature but mature, rude but nice and confusing older brother types do, dismissing your apology with a little pat on your back.

Another pat, and you’re snuggling into the blankets and letting your eyes close, mapping the way his hand feels and ignoring the way your stomach cramps. You hear the distant sound of a picture being taken, only being able to mutter a humiliated groan. There's a vibration where your phone is, and you know that the group chat has been notified of your predicament. 

“You eat? Take a shower?” Sukuna asks, mastering the art of making his concern dismissive. The silence on your end answers everything he needs to know, humming in acknowledgement. You’re a stubborn little shit who likes to suffer in isolation, he’ll give you that.

He synchs a basketball game to your TV, adamantly rotating between patting and rubbing your back until you’re snoring and curled up next to his lap.

When you wake up, you’re still cold, still sweating off your fever. You peers towards the bed, noticing the empty spot but the basketball game still softly playing on the screen. For a moment, you let your head slump back into the mattress before you force yourself out of bed to pee.

The weight in your body is too overwhelming to be horrified by your appearance when you emerge to make your way into a shared bathroom with your roommate. They’re all gone for work, and you don’t have the wit to ask where Sukuna got the time off to come fuck you in the middle of the day. Or why he was looking at your location. 

“I forgot how much of a bitchy face you have.” He comments, voice a note softer than you would usually hear, as you pad towards the bathroom. You grumble a quiet fuck you, slinking towards the bathroom.

You fix your hair to the best of your ability- standing up too long made you throw up. Your abdomen feels like it’s gone to three HIT classes in a row, hardly having any reserves to help you stand and brush your teeth. So you do it knelt over the bathtub, making sure to lock the door to make sure that stupid person of interest doesn’t see you so weak.

Rinsing your mouth out knelt over a tub is a new low, spitting the globs of toothpaste and water into the drain before you turn it off and brace the sides of the tub to stand and wander back out into the kitchen. Your bones feel like brittle, a bowling ball in your stomach forcing your posture to look horrifyingly old. It's been two days but you've aged thirty years. 

“Hi.” You greet weakly, rubbing your eyes before putting your arms back down as swiftly as you can. When was the last time you shaved?

Sukuna nods back, digging through a plastic bag. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sitting on the floor. The tile makes you twitch, and you wonder how you’re going to get up without looking like a hobbling mess. Maybe you’ll just crawl.

Soup and some electrolyte drinks are set out on the counter- along with your favorite candy. For a moment, your brows furrow, and then your lip wobbles in realization.

“Did you get that for me?”

“Can’t fuck you if you’re all pitiful and disgusting.” Is all he says, but his lip twitches into a bewitching smirk as your eyes well with tears and you sniffle out a sweet thank you. "Of course you’d cry over stupid shit like this." He adds, shaking his head. 

His shoes click bluntly against the floor, and he peers down at you with that devastatingly handsome, horribly mean face.

“You could just go fuck another girl.” You murmur sappily, lip jutting into a pout. And it’s true, you know it. The two of you have established that. He throws it in your face, too, when you tell him you’re busy or you’re too sleepy. Or when you simply don’t want to deal with his attitude.

His laugh tickles your heart, staring at him with wide, watery eyes as he bends down and gathers you into his arms. You squirm, or try to, holding any pride and ego close to your chest like a rabid animal as you let out a faux uncomfortable noise. There’s a familiar tap to your ass that urges you to stop, and you sink into Sukuna’s terrifyingly comfortable embrace as he carries you back to your room. The two of you have hardly cuddled before, the absolute most being him begrudgingly letting you cling onto him after one particularly rough night- only to shove you off five minutes later, giving you a pat on the head as if to say good job, thanks for the head, before leaving.

So this is new, awkward, when your semi friend with semi benefits sets you down with the upmost genteel fashion and retreats back into the kitchen. He comes back with an armful of products moments later. Soup, your favorite cup filled with mystery get well liquid, a straw and a big spoon.

“I don’t like big spoons.”

“That’s too fuckin’ bad because that’s what I got- stop pouting like that, it's disgusting.”

Sukuna sets everything down and defiantly does not grab another spoon for you. You make a noise in the back of your throat when he reaches over and urges you to sit up with a silent look that you’re expected to figure out. He lets you maneuver a pillow behind your back, lets you curl a blanket around your body and change the TV back to Vampire Diaries- he does not let you feed yourself.

When you reach for the bowl of soup (your favorite- chicken and stars), he uses only a percentage of his strength to swat your hand away, giving you another demand to stop sulking like a little kid before he’s crawling (crawling!) across the bed. Bowl of soup and too big of spoon in hand, he sits across from and in front of your view from the show.

He leans forward in a sort of endearing way, brows furrowed in a certain concentration as he scoops the perfect spoonful of soup and stars, holding it to your mouth. And he watches when you open your mouth with furrowed brows, lips closing around the dipped metal so that nothing drips down your chin. The broth warms your mouth, your stomach in an instant, making your face relax and your back slump into the pillow that supports you.

There’s a prickle of humiliation on the apples of your cheeks, something Sukuna would likely make fun of if you weren’t half asleep by the time he finishes spoon feeding you. And yea, there was one singular instance of him swiping away fallen liquid away with his thumb. And yea, you’re going to remember that forever. And most definitely are you going to internalize this as something more between the two of you than just friends who fuck (friend being a huge overstatement).

“I don’t like you.” You find yourself murmuring as Sukuna thrusts your clunky, metal, pink water bottle in your face. Obediently, as you always are, you sip at the liquid, swallowing down any grimace as he stares right at you while you swallow.

“You’re not my favorite, either.” He grunts, picking the cup up as soon as you set it down and representing it to you with a face.

“I’m at least second to your video game console.” Your grumble with pursed lips, taking another measly sip. When Sukuna raises his brows, you take a few more.

“Third. Second is pot. And it’s a PS4- fucking nerd.”

The part of your stomach that isn’t cramping to shit flutters, your fever probably rises, and you smile to yourself as you take a big gulp of the electrolyte solution. You swallow before he says the softest atta girl and takes the cup to set it back down.

Sukuna helps you shuffle under three big blankets, gives you your phone and goes to wash the soup bowl. You text Satoru with sick enthusiasm, to which he reiterates it in your (other) group chat where everyone just starts sending silly fangirlish memes. Shoko isn’t phased, Suguru isn’t pleased, either. But there’s an icky smile on your face, the thought of when it’ll end and Sukuna will go back to, well, Sukuna, gnawing at the back of your throat.

But you’ll pretend for today, like you do everyday.

“Are you leaving?” You ask when he comes back into the room, question answered when the bed dips once more.

He grunts a no, to shut up and sleep as he synchs up another sports game. You don’t mind, turning your head so you’re facing him. His back rests against a pillow with a floral case, one of your weighted stuffed animals squished between the weight of his back and the metal bed frame.

You stare with lidded eyes and hot cheeks, tracing the musculature of his shoulders and the sharpness of his face in the same pattern you do after he’s done making you quiver and shake and cry. The plush of the blanket is a perfect excuse for the sheen of sweat on your face, your stomach still molten lava and convulsing.

But it’s just a little more than a dull ache with Sukuna here, bored face and all.

For a moment, before you fall asleep for a third time today, you feel his fingertips, hard and gruff and soft, brush against your cheek, your chapped lips. You’re too tired to hide or quip at him in the static-like fashion that makes him laugh.

You swear you see his lips twitch when you hum affectionately. There’s a text waiting for your friends, a mental scoreboard to update. Smile number two. Four days apart. From holding a sparkler and ogling at it like a child at Satoru’s New Year’s Eve party to laying in bed sick, purring like a cat as he pets you.

“Stop looking like you’re going to die.” He all but requests, covering your face with a sliver of the blanket and looking back at the game. Grabbing the remote, he turns the volume up a few more notches to ignore your itty bitty, very sleepy laugh.

Seconds away from sleep, Sukuna uncovers it- you. His lingering gaze tingles your nose, all the way down to the tips of your toes. Your infatuation with him might as well be the cure to cancer from the faintest spark of energy it gave you.

He’s not there when you wake up. It could have been a fever dream for all you know if it wasn’t for the refilled hydro flask and oddly neat note scribbled for you to ‘drink the fuck up’ on one of your Sanrio sticky notes. There's a brief look of horror on your face knowing that he looked through your drawers to find one. 

You drink it all and take a gruesome looking picture, sending it to him with a silly caption- your way of saying thank you. Sukuna doesn’t respond, but the read receipts are on. And he doesn’t talk to you for awhile, as if he curates the perfect way to make you stay by letting the bubbling like for him simmer into nothing, only for it to come back in full force when asks if you’re awake three Thursdays later.He asks if he can still use the key you gave him to come by after the gym to shower because his little brother and friends are over and he doesn’t want to hear them blubber while they figure out their alcohol tolerance (or lack thereof).

A pearly, well built increment of yourself hopes it’s so he’ll check up on you, too, after he slinks into your room and fucks you just the way he likes- because he knows you like it, too.

And you say yes, like you always do. Tell him about this new body wash you got that he can use, that you just so happened to get his favorite drink from the store he get his protein powder and supplements from when you went grocery shopping.

you don’t even like that store lmfao

found a new prebiotic there! Saw it on Pintrest

sure

Sukuna is not immune to exploiting your obvious cartwheels to please him. He’ll never say thank you, and you won’t ever ask him to. You do it for all your friends, you tell him. Shoko’s toothbrush brand is in your bathroom cabinet when she sleeps over. Satoru’s moisturizer and favorite tooth-rotting snacks. Suguru’s blanket because he gets cold at movie nights. But Sukuna knows he could have whatever he asked for within the hour.

He’ll never address that he took care of you when you were sick. Both times. Or that there's a packet of your favorite gum in the console of his car. And he'd rather be dead than you, shit, anyone, find out that there's a hidden album of little you's in his phone. 

i’m just a good friend  *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

we’re not friends.

It doesn’t hurt your feelings. Because you know he’s emotionally constipated, that no one’s ever really cared. Except Yuji, but little brothers always care. That whatever affection and consideration thrown his way will be burnt to a crisp, that he’ll only ever look at you like you hung the stars when no one’s looking, or only think about you at night when the weed isn’t helping him sleep. 

uh huh, we sure aren’t. see you later! make sure to stretch before you lift!!

stop texting me, it's fucking up my music

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

?