#they make everybody uncomfortable!! shut the fuck up and grow up!!

[ceasarslegion]

Gonna be honest the longer i spend in adulthood and the more unfair shit i have to deal with, the more impatient and intolerant i become of other perfectly functional and capable adults whining that life isnt fair (and implying that they dont have to try because of it).

No its not fair, but you know what? Its not fair for anybody. That doesnt mean you deserve extra special treatment to make it fair for you only which will only realistically come at the expense of others. Crying to other people actively cleaning up other peoples messes that it's unfair to ask you to clean up other peoples messes isnt as revolutionary as you think it is. Yes it sucks, but you can deal with it like the rest of us.

Not to sound like your dad but there is a point where you just have to suck it up and deal with it. No it's not fun, no it's not fair, yes it sucks, but youre not a child bro, suck it UP.

The amount of fully functional adults out there who act like children when the world doesnt function on fairy tale rules is truly baffling. And ive noticed that theres ALWAYS this weird implication to their logic and reactions that its perfectly fine for other people to take on MORE bullshit if it means they dont have to deal with anything they deem unfair.

Obligatory reading comprehension question: what does the use of the term "perfectly functional and capable adults" imply about the type of people OP is referring to in this 30 second vent post? Is the OP really referring to legitimate disability accommodations or desolate life circumstances, or people who have every ability and resource at their disposal to deal with BS and choose not to because its a little hard?

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Prince Roier Hires a Faerie to Help With His Divorce (he hasn't gotten married yet)

For day two of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Fae/Kiss

-

Once upon a time...

Roier picks his way through the foliage with a grimace. His feet hurt, twigs keep smacking into his face, bugs keep flying into his mouth. This sucks, but it'll all be worth it.

Thunder rolls above, and rain starts pouring down without a second's warning.

...It'll all be worth it.

He's due back at the castle by morning, but, honestly, he'd kinda rather die than go back. If the wolves eat him, so be it!

Grumbling, he pulls his hood up over his head, and he continues onward. If he freezes to death out here, so be it!

He's not planning on going back to the castle alive, anyway.

Legend has it that, deep in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla, there lives a man-eating witch capable of tearing a man's soul from his body before he can so much as breathe in her general direction. Nobody knows this witch's name, but everybody knows that she's totally fucked up: if she isn't eating people, she's eating bears, and her magic is said to be as destructive as the eruption that created the universe.

Roier needs to meet her now.

So he continues trudging through the woods. The lantern in his hand is fighting to stay lit, and his boots are filled with enough water to drown a rat with, but he's fine. He's going to die miserable, but he's fine.

There's a flash of lightning bright enough to blind him, and then there's a crash of thunder loud enough to make him jump and nearly drop his lantern. When his vision returns, the tree in front of him is toppled to the side, leaving only a charred and smoking stump behind.

And then there's the cat.

Roier, frankly, stares. Because... what?

It's a cute cat, at least: brown with black stripes almost like a tiger's and blue eyes so bright that they almost seem to glow in the night. It sits on the stump with its tail curled around its paws, very polite, 10/10 cat.

Hesitantly, Roier approaches. He holds the lantern up to the cat, tilts his head, smiles.

"You're so cute," he coos, bending down to pet the cat between its little ears. "What are you doing out here, eh?"

The cat yawns, and then it huffs, "I could ask you the same question."

Roier screams and recoils and drops his lantern. It goes out, but the forest doesn't grow any dimmer because the cat is fucking glowing now, okay. Okay!

The cat rolls its eyes, tail twitching. "Okay, ouch. I'm not that scary."

"You're a talking cat," Roier breathes. "What the fuck?"

"What, you were expecting the witch?"

A pause.

Then:

"Oh, come on!"

Roier finally collects himself, brushing the water off of his cloak and adjusting his hood and picking up his lantern.

The cat stands and starts pacing the stump in a small, annoyed circle.

"The witch isn't even real," it complains. "She never was! Witches aren't real!"

Roier frowns. "Fuck you, man, my best friend is a witch."

"They aren't. Witches aren't real. Magicians are real, but witches-"

"You are literally a talking cat."

"I am a faerie," the cat corrects, sounding almost pained as it does so. "Faeries are real. Witches are fake. It's all anti-faerie propaganda created by the Federation-"

"By the what?"

The cat flicks his tail at Roier; Roier's mouth shuts, and, to his alarm, he finds that he can't open it again no matter how hard he tries.

The cat angrily swipes a leaf off of the stump. Unfortunately, it is really cute as it does so.

But then it starts complaining again, and Roier decides that this annoying fucking faerie cat isn't that cute after all.

"I haven't eaten anybody in centuries!" the cat shouts. "Fucking Cucurucho..."

Roier's eyes widen.

He waves at the cat until the cat does its magic thing again and allows him to talk.

First, Roier sucks in a deep breath through his mouth. That was uncomfortable.

Then, he says, "I know Cucurucho. I'm supposed to marry him in three days."

The cat's eyes narrow. Its shadow beneath it seems to grow; it tinges itself red like a pool of water with blood in it, wow. That's almost cool.

"That's why I'm here," Roier explains. "I need the witch to kill me so I don't have to marry him."

The cat sits.

"I see," it says. "Unfortunately, the witch isn't real."

"Suuuure, but you are." Roier sneaks closer. "Can't you just-" He opens his hands and wiggles his fingers. "-magic me dead?"

The cat stares at Roier's fingers. "Um. No. Faeries can't kill."

Roier deflates. "Ugh."

With a frustrated groan, he sits on the stump next to the cat. The cat grumbles, but it doesn't, like, magic him onto the ground, so that's kinda nice of it.

"But," the cat says, slowly as if questioning itself as it speaks, "I can get you to kill for me."

Oh. Now there's a thought. But...

Roier looks to the side at the cat. "I've tried. I'm pretty sure he's immortal, man."

"You haven't tried killing him with faerie magic. Now, come here."

The cat hops off of the stump and pads into the forest. After a moment, Roier follows.

They walk until they reach a hollowed-out tree. Then, the cat hops into the tree and mutters to itself as it looks for something.

Eventually, the cat pokes its head out of the tree with an opaque brown bottle held in its mouth.

Roier takes the bottle and turns it over in his hands.

"This," the cat says, "is extract of unicorn. Mix this in with Cucurucho's food, and he'll be dead by the end of the night."

Roier's mouth twitches. It'll happen, just like that? Just like that? Decades of oppression over just. Like. That?

"Okaaayyy," Roier drawls. He looks back up at the cat with a small smile. "Thank you."

The cat responds by clambering out of the tree and lounging on a branch hanging by Roier's face.

"No, thank you," the cat insists. "You'll be doing us both a favor if you manage to kill that asshole."

"If this kills him, you'll be a hero."

"Oh, I'm no hero. I'm just..." (The cat grins with far too many teeth in its mouth.) "...an invested party."

Well, the cat is probably evil. But that's fine. So is Cucurucho, and two wrongs make a right, right?

-

Well, wrong! Because Cucurucho isn't fucking dead.

Roier stomps back to the tree stump with the faerie's empty unicorn piss whatever bottle in hand. He doesn't have a lantern this time because, frankly, he really isn't intent on returning to the castle this time. If he trips over a root and dies, so be it!

The cat is nowhere to be seen. Of course, the bastard.

"Gatinho!" Roier calls. He cups both hands around his mouth and spins in a circle and continues shouting, "Gatinho! Where the fuck are you! Come here!"

No response.

Frustrated, Roier chucks the bottle to the ground and plops onto the stump. He puts his head in his hands and groans.

"I am going to fucking die," he moans. "I can't go home, I need to die, what the fuck."

A twig snaps. A presence ghosts over his shoulder, what feels like fingers grazing his tunic. But, when he snaps his head up and turns around, all he sees is the cat sitting behind him.

Roier's eyes narrow. "You."

"Me," the cat agrees. "Did it work? Is he dead? Please tell me he's dead. He's dead, right?"

"No! He isn't! He thought that unicorn shit was edible glitter! Now he wants it at the wedding!"

The cat blinks. "Huh."

"Yeah, 'huh'." Roier huffs and turns back around and hides his face again. "Fuck you, man. You said it would kill him."

"It should've. He's a demon, right?"

"How should I know? He's a fucking bear wizard thing."

"Okay, again, wizards aren't real, magicians are. But you're marrying him, right? How do you not know what species he is?"

"It's not like I'm getting a choice in the matter," Roier spits. He glares into the palms of his hands, shoulders shaking with barely-concealed rage. "Either I marry him or he destroys the kingdom."

There's a pregnant pause as the cat takes this information in. Fair, honestly. Roier hadn't exactly told him that he's a prince. Wasn't important, still isn't important. Doesn't matter if he's a prince if he's being sold off to marry a goddamn bear like he's a common animal.

It's for the good of the kingdom, Foolish had said. He and Vegetta have always liked Cucurucho despite Cucurucho being a legendary fucking creep. It's either you or Leo.

And Roier isn't the one that's meant to take the throne after his parents die.

"Can't you just kill me?" Roier asks. He waves a hand in a random direction. "Just make a tree fall on me or something. It'll be an accident, it's fine, your faerie cops won't know."

"Um, no," the cat says. "That's fucked up."

"Don't you eat people? How the fuck do you eat people without killing them?"

"Who says I killed them before eating them?"

Ah. Sounds about right.

...Kinda cool, to be honest. Imagining a tiny little kitty cat rip a grown dude apart like he's a slice of bread. Almost funny in a way.

Roier jumps as something brushes the hair out of his face.

He jerks his head upright and glares down at the cat, now sitting delicately in front of him.

"I have an idea," the cat tells him. "Follow me."

As they walk back to the hollow tree, the cat asks, "Does Cucurucho still have that freaky mechanical sword?"

Roier thinks. "Maybe? I don't know, he kinda just sits and stares at people. Sometimes he chases the servants around with a sword? Dunno if it's mechanical, though..."

"Well, any sword will work. Hold on."

The cat leaps into the tree and comes out with a new bottle, this one clear.

Roier takes the bottle and swishes it around. The liquid inside looks like oil, okay...

"This is dragon's blood," the cat explains. "It's corrosive to the touch, so be careful. Tell him that it's a special polish for his sword. It should eat his skin to the bone and kill him dead."

"Huh," Roier says, suddenly much more careful with the bottle. He gently slides it into his pocket, makes sure it's secure between a bag of coins and his headband. "Okay. Cool."

"This should work," the cat says. "But I'll try and think of something else for if it doesn't."

"Yeah, well, it'd better work," Roier huffs. "I'm getting married in two days. Then the gods only know what he's gonna do with me."

"Trust me, we'll figure it out."

"Trust you? Aren't you some kind of evil faerie cat?"

The cat looks offended. "Excuse you, I'm barely evil anymore. All I do is read these days. Do you know how many books I have at my house? More than Cucurucho, that's for sure."

"You have a house?"

The cat visibly bristles. "Of course I have a house. What, do you think I'm homeless?"

"You are a cat."

"Not all the time!"

Oh, that's interesting. Roier can almost imagine what the cat looks like in a human form, but the idea escapes him at the last second.

"Whatever," Roier sighs. "Just kill me tomorrow if this doesn't work."

-

Roier doesn't even bother shouting as he storms up to the stump.

He sits, pulls his cloak off, tosses it to his feet, kicks it away. What the fuck!!

He doesn't so much as blink as the cat appears by his side.

"It didn't work?" the cat cries. "Really? That should've worked!"

"Yeah, well, it didn't," Roier huffs. "He wore gloves today. And Cucurucho figured out that I've been sneaking out to see someone at night, so he told my parents that we're going to move to a different castle out in the middle of nowhere. I bet he's going to lock me up, the piece of shit."

The cat's ears lay back on its head. Its eyes narrow, and its lip curls back in a clear snarl.

"I know," Roier agrees. "Fuck this guy for real."

"Fuck him."

"Fuck him!"

Roier smiles just for a second, and he even manages a brief laugh before remembering, right. He's fucking doomed. Right.

Sighing, he slumps to the side until he's tumbling off of the stump and splayed across the ground. He buries his face in the grass and screams.

To his credit, he hardly jumps as a hand firmly settles on his back and rubs it. Small circles, firm hand, big hand, it feels like, wow.

Something- a knee?- presses against Roier's arm firmly. It's grounding in a way. Almost.

"I'm getting married tomorrow," Roier whines. "Just kill me, gatinho. I promise I won't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to kill you, guapito," the cat says. (Roier blushes. Guapito...) Its voice sounds deeper, almost. Louder. More clear. "I can't."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Marry Cucurucho?"

"I won't let that happen."

"Why? Because you want to kill him? Because that hasn't exactly been working so far."

"Because it's super fucked up that he's forcing you to marry him. I don't give a shit about the kingdom, I don't live there. I want him dead, but I'm starting to think that he's unkillable."

The hand moves from Roier's back up to his head. Fingers sift through his hair. Woooow, that feels good. When's the last time Roier got touched this softly? Before Cucurucho arrived?

"I've been thinking," the cat continues. "I've been keeping an eye on Cucurucho for centuries, but he's never tried destroying the kingdom before now. Before you. I think that, if you're gone, then he might leave, too."

Roier cracks an eye open. He doesn't shift his head at all, so he can only just barely make out a hint of cloth. So the cat has clothes when he's a human, that's cool, Roier guesses. Makes him wonder where they came from.

"So... kill me," Roier tells him. "If it'll get him to leave the kingdom alone, kill me."

"I can't do that."

"I'm not next in line for the throne! It's fine! Just push me into the river, I can't swim."

"You can't swim? Really?"

"Well, I can, but I can pretend that I can't!"

"You are so... selfless," the cat says, sounding completely exasperated. "And stupid. No, come with me. I know how we can solve this without killing you."

The hand leaves Roier's head, and then a cold nose is poking at his cheek until he's sitting up and looking the cat right in its little kitty eyes.

"Do you still have cat eyes when you're in another form?" Roier can't help but ask. "That would be really cool."

The cat chuckles. "Maybe. Come on. I have one last thing we can try."

They go to the hollow tree, and Roier waits as the cat scrambles into the tree and surfaces with a necklace clutched in its teeth.

Roier takes the necklace and inspects it. It's a solid gold chain with a little charm that looks like a cat's head. Cute.

"What, is this evil faerie gold that will melt Cucurucho's skin off?" Roier asks.

"No, it's for you," the cat replies. "Wear it tomorrow. When the wedding reaches the climax, take the necklace off and break it."

Roier points at the cat accusingly. "You are going to kill me!"

The cat rolls its eyes. "I'm not. Just... trust me."

Trust the man-eating faerie cat, sure. Right.

Roier sighs, but he puts the necklace on, anyway. It's surprisingly warm around his neck.

The cat almost seems to smile. "You look lovely."

"This thing is going to explode and blow my head off."

"No, you'll see."

And, well. What choice does Roier have but to wait and see?

-

The final wedding preparations go by in an uncomfortable blur.

Leo comes in to hug Roier goodbye. She then punches Roier in the stomach and tells him to write to her once he's at his new house.

Jaiden comes in to help Roier finish getting ready. She's happy about the marriage because she really thinks that Cucurucho is a good person, and Roier can't help but be happy that she's happy.

Foolish comes in to walk Roierto the church. He and Vegetta each take one of Roier's arms, and they walk.

And then Cucurucho is waiting at the church in front of the altar in an all-white suit. His fur is meticulously brushed, his claws are polished, his smile is painted on, he's absolutely grotesque.

Roier hates him.

"Good morning," Cucurucho says as Roier settles in front of the altar.

"It's sunset, you fucking idiot," Roier snaps. He can say what he wants now, right? He's going to die, anyway. The cat is going to kill him.

Cucurucho laughs, and then the ceremony starts.

Roier tunes out most of the goings-on if only to keep himself from breaking down and breaking the necklace before it's time. The cat said to wait until the climax, so Roier's going to wait for the goddamn climax.

He comes back to himself as the cleric asks if anybody in the audience has any objections to the marriage.

This sounds like a fucking climax if Roier's ever heard one.

"Yes," he says. "I object!"

He tears the necklace from around his neck and throws it to the floor. Before anybody can stop him, he slams his heel into the charm.

The entire church erupts into screams as a blinding white light fills it. Magic tears at Roier's skin, biting and pulling. He squeezes his eyes shut, anticipating the end of it all.

But:

"I also object," the cat says.

Two large hands settle on Roier's upper arms, and he's pulled back and against a firm chest.

Roier tilts his head back- not too far, because the cat's human form is shorter than he is, funnily enough- and his eyes widen as he takes in the most beautiful man in the world. Long hair the same color as the cat's coat, scarred face, feathery earrings, cat eyes.

"No," Curucucho snaps. "No!"

"Yes!" the cat- well, not the cat, Roier supposes- shouts. "The prince is mine! He swore himself to me the moment he accepted that necklace, and so he will go back with me to the Faewild and become my husband. You know the rules, bear."

Leo, in the audience, cheers. So does Foolish, who always appreciates a good show.

"Gatinho," Roier hisses.

The faerie shrugs his concerns off. Roier is annoyed about this for exactly three seconds before he gets caught up in the faerie's eyes.

Could be a worse arranged marriage, that's for sure...

A long moment passes, but Cucurucho eventually says a begrudging, "Yes."

"So," the faerie continues, "you will not destroy the kingdom for this. If the prince has already been promised to somebody else, then he never rejected you."

"Yes," Cucurucho sighs.

"You're hot when you're arguing," Roier whispers.

The faerie's cheeks redden, as do the tips of his pointed ears. Cute!

Yeah, no, this arranged marriage will be way better than the last one.

"So!" The faerie turns Roier around so that they're looking at each other properly for the first time eye-to-eye. "You will be coming with me."

"Yeah, okay," Roier agrees. Hell yeah. "Take me, gatinho."

"'Take me'?" Foolish gasps. "Ooooo, this is getting spicy!"

"All you need to do is say my name," the faerie says.

He leans in close and whispers right into Roier's ear, and Roier returns the favor... with a couple of flirtatious remarks thrown in for good measure. Sue him, he's about to get married to a sexy faerie. He's going to make the most of the situation.

"Cellbit," Roier murmurs, and something tickles at his skin. Something... purple. It feels purple. Soft and purple.

"Roier," the faerie replies. He looks positively flustered, aww. He's going to be so fun to tease once they're out of the church.

As the Faewild's magic starts to pick up, Roier can't help but give the faerie a grateful kiss.

The faerie blinks away from the kiss after a moment of some very eager lip-chasing. His face is completely red, and his eyes are wide and unblinking even as the magic around them whips like the wind.

"There's more where that comes from," Roier teases. He puts his arms around the faerie and smiles. "You're marrying me, get used to it. That's just part of the deal."

Because faeries are all about deals, right? Well, Roier's the best deal this guys is ever gonna get.

The faerie swallows, an eager grin teasing at his face.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Alright."

He pulls Roier's head down for another kiss just as the Faewild swallows them whole.

-

(Legends say that there are monsters living in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla. Once monster is a man-spider with glowing red eyes and fangs the length of one's sword. The other is a furry snarling beast of a thing with magic worthy of the most powerful of witches.

Ah, but don't worry, my child, for these monsters don't hunt humans.

No, they hunt bears, and isn't that a good thing for us?)

[deadqueerboys]

Late Stream - Quackity x Ftm! Reader (Pre Nsfw)

I lost the request and I'm not a big fan of Quackity but here it is :)

(I know it's incomplete. Let me know if you want more of it)

Being a fucked up night as always, Quackity was streaming one of his stuff about a minecraft sever or whatever about Brazilian things he likes. M/n couldn't feel any kind of happiness with this, in fact, he's bored as fuck. And the T wasn't helping at all.

M/n knocks on Quackity's door, complaining at the much time he was inside there. With a kind smile, he manages to find an excuse, well.. not an excuse. He just says he's going to bring you hers to show them something important.

Quackity smiles at M/n when he opens the door, pushing him inside his office as he shows everybody his boyfriend. Oh, that man is so proud..

"So, I'm pretty sure you guys remember my boyfriend M/n. And.. now he's like.. bigger than me." He giggles, sitting on his chair and putting him in his lap. Quackity lovely puts his arms around him and hugs him closer. "In any kind of bigger, to be honest." He whispers so just both of them could hear it.

"Alex!" M/n shut out to him, shifting uncomfortably on his boyfriend's lap, feeling his own arousing growing. His heat makes he feel good, but also needy. He grinds against Quackity's thigh, making it softly so the viewers wouldn't notice.

Quackity makes sure to keep talking with the camera, his fingers brushing against his big clit and laying his head on M/n's shoulder as he plays with the boy.

After a while of annoyance, Quackity finishes his stream with the excuse of giving his boyfriend some comfort. In fact, he does, but not before frowning at him and giving a huge slap on his thigh.

"Fuck, are you serious?~" He whimpers, biting his lips to avoid a loud moan. M/n turns around to sit on Quackity's lap properly, his legs spread around the chair as his crotch touches Quackity's.

"Of course I'm serious. What happened to my good boy?" He smirks, slapping M/n again. His voice is husky in a rough whisper when he talks again. "You've been so naughty lately, I should do something about it.."

[sysakiddo]

here we are, fourth one already 😭 Max is really pushing my agenda with all of his geography knowledge in all the grill the grid videos and the freaking Time interview. all the love to @123pixieaod for her amazing feedback 💓

1, 2, 3

The terrace has a beautiful wooden floor and an enormous swimming pool, both something Daniel mentioned as pros when they were deciding on buying a villa in Èze. Ultimately, it all came down to the three mulberry trees growing on the right side of the garden. Max has never fully explained his obsession with the mulberries, but it was enough for him to buy the villa even without the other positives.

When Charles visited the estate for the first time, he and Max spent hours picking the mulberries and climbing up the trees like little kids. That confirmed Daniel's suspicion it had something to do with Max's childhood, even though it was one of the rare instances when Charles refused to dish out Max's secrets.

The housewarming gift from their friends, the enormous table made of teak, made the terrace look like a paradise. The first evening together, they sit around it with glasses of wine Daniel insisted on choosing. Max is reading and only half-listening to Charles and Alex's conversation at the other side of the table. Seb looks like he is about to fall asleep on the chair beside him.

"That's like you and the mysterious metro guy!" Charles laughs, interrupting everyone with a loud exclamation. He points his glass of pastis in Max's direction, who has no idea what brought them here.

Max, embarrassingly, feels blood rush to his cheeks. "Shut up," he grumbles. "Who invited you again?"

Max did. He sent him a text that only said, 'Eze 12-19 July'. Charles sent back a thumbs up and called Daniel a week later for details he knew Max wouldn't be willing to share.

Daniel looks up from his phone, dripping water everywhere with the movement. He got out of the pool merely minutes before, enjoying the coolness of the water after the long, hot day of travelling they had. Max's blush stuns him. "Metro guy?"

Charles gasps theatrically, smiling so wide his dimples are showing in their full force. "Noo," he drawls gleefully. He basks in any opportunity to make Max uncomfortable. "Max Verstappen, you did not tell your husband about the metro guy?"

Daniel sighs, putting his hand over his heart, getting into the play Charles sets up. "Baby, am I the other man?"

Giggles break out around the table, everybody watching them by now.

"There's nothing to tell you, Daniel. And you-" Max says sternly, pointing his finger at Charles, whose shoulders shake with giggles. "Shut the fuck up before I-"

"When we were interns in Stockholm-" Charles interrupts him, looking at Daniel meaningfully while he starts with the story.

"This is embarrassing, Charles." Max rolls his eyes, but Charles doesn't react. He feeds off Max's despair. When he breathes in to continue, Max takes the precautionary measure and quickly asks him, "Have you told Sebastian who you were with when you broke your hand?"

Charles' smile dims. Sebastian opens one eye and squints at them with poorly hidden curiosity. He asked Charles about the incident many times and never got anything but empty words and white lies. He should have figured out that Max would know what really happened.

"You are no fun, Max. The most annoyingly serious man ever. I don't know how you put up with him." he turns to Daniel with the last sentence, who is still looking at him expectantly.

"I want to hear the story!"

Max huffs, crossing his arms. "I am not that serious."

Charles clicks his tongue loudly, taking another sip of his anise liquor. "You're reading Kissinger on a vacation." Max yelps, offended. He closes the book and cringes at the loud thud. The noise feels incriminating.

"Well, sorry that I'm not creaming my pants over Édouard Louis," He says, scoffing at the book someone sat aside on the table.

"Sick burn, Max." Daniel deadpans. "You were reading The Hunger Games last week." Max, betrayed, frowns at him.

"And you liked Barbie better than Oppenheimer, so fuck off."

Alex looks up from his place on the lounger, basking in the sun. "We were supposed to like Oppenheimer?"

George wants to join the conversation, too. "Kissinger is one hundred years old, there is no way he wrote that book himself. AI is crazy these days."

"You should ask Max about his well-being, they are all buddy-buddy with each other. Right, Max? Having dinner with him every time you cross the ocean?" Alex is laughing, joining the fest of kicking Max while he's down.

Charles smirks, seeing another opening. "Maybe Daniel isn't the only old man Max is fucking."

Sebastian opens his eyes and frowns at the younger man. "Charles, that's enough. Don't be mean now." The look on Charles' face makes Max laugh gleefully.

"Yeah, Charles, don't be mean," he parrots. He never claimed he wasn't petty. Daniel kicks his leg under the table, shaking his head subtly.

Max deflates a little, returning to his book without saying anything else. Sebastian catches Daniel's look and mouths kids.

Daniel has to bring his wine glass to his lips so he doesn't start laughing. "When will the intern arrive?" he asks to change the subject.

"Who?"

"Max wants to adopt an intern."

Seb hums appreciatively. "It's about time you two get children."

"Her name is Anne, Daniel, and she's, of course, too old for me to adopt." Max says sternly. "She's going to come tomorrow morning. And Pierre is bringing an intern, too!"

Charles nods, clicking his tongue. "He's probably fucking her, though."

Daniel gags. "I thought he was dating the model? The one from Vogue?" Max and Charles shake their heads almost synchronically, always ready to gossip.

"What about you, Charles? Are you doing Vogue next?" Alex moves to an empty chair behind the table, cutting a piece of cheese someone laid out on it.

Charles, uncharacteristically, blushes. "No, that was a one-time thing."

In their group chat, his photo on the Time magazine cover worked as a meme by now. Max made fun of Charles for it ruthlessly, but Daniel knew he kept talking about how great it was that Mr Leclerc was finally getting the recognition he deserved to anyone who would listen to him.

Seb stands up and removes his shirt, padding off to the pool. Charles' eyes don't leave him once.

"On the other hand, I'd be willing to do Vogue if it meant getting out of that shithole." Naturally, Charles wanted everything Max had—a career of ages and a much older boyfriend. Alex smiles encouragingly, "Brussels is not that bad."

"Working in the Commission is a great opportunity, Charles," Max says, and Charles scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. He can’t stand their pity. "Seriously! I would if my husband wasn't solar- powered." he points at Daniel. "Two weeks in Belgian weather, and he withers away."

Everyone laughs, Max's words striking even more true now that Daniel is trying to soak up the sun shirtless on the chair next to them.

"Oh, Max," Charles slaps his hand down on the table, disappointed he forgot to mention this sooner. "I'm going to Amsterdam around the 28th. Care to join?"

Max's whole demeanour changes. "I can't, I'll be in Cairo, sorry."

Charles shrugs and tries to sneak away a piece of cheese Alex has cut for himself. Daniel kicks Max's leg, but the other man pointedly doesn't react.

"What's wrong with him?" he points his finger at Seb.

Everyone turns around, the distraction working perfectly. Sebastian is face down on a floatie, beer in his hand. He lazily kicks out once in a while, which just makes the scene even more grotesque.

"Seb? Are you planning on pulling a Kendall Roy over there?" Charles yells out, his eyebrows furrowed behind his designer sunglasses.

And because Sebastian is the only person left in the world who hasn’t watched Succession yet, his only reply is a mumbled, "Was?"

"He has been like this since he transferred to NATO," George says knowingly.

Charles slaps his hand down on the table. "See? Fucking Brussels."

|

Max gets out of the room at sunrise. He likes to run through the village while the other people start waking up. Daniel stirs when he comes out of the shower an hour later but doesn’t make any effort to actually wake up. He is fine with dozing off, naked, under the satin sheets.

"Daniel, me and Charles are going to the racetrack. Do you want to join us?"

Daniel knows they are even more insufferable while competing, but that's not the only reason why he shakes his head no. He can now distinguish the noise filtering inside from the street as Charles revving his Ferrari.

He feels the bed dip beside his hip, and with his eyes closed, he flinches a little when Max's fingers trail lightly over his nose, cheekbones, the soft skin under his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, more quietly now.

"Yeah," he opens one eye. "I'm just not feeling great. I think it would be better if I slept a bit more."

"Are you feeling bad again? What do you need me to do?" Max looks frenzied now, worry setting in his features.

Max is not stupid, noticing things about Daniel only the person who loves you can notice. How he doesn't even try sleeping without taking ten milligrams of melatonin and still trashing for a decent hour before he manages to fall asleep, or how he keeps playing with the food on his plate without really eating anything, or how he hasn't returned his mom's calls in a solid month. So, of course, he can tell Daniel is getting bad again.

Daniel suddenly feels like a dick, all of the memories from when he couldn't even get out of bed under the heavy baggage on his shoulders come flying into his head.

Max's hand travels further down his face, eventually wrapping his fingers around Daniel's throat. A muscle memory. That way, he feels his Adam's apple bobbing when he asks, "Why did you not tell me you're going to Cairo?"

"Why would I? So you could come with me?" he asks sarcastically. Daniel huffs, slaps Max's hand away.

"Oh, yes, I think his excellency Verstappen would love to have a lovely lunch with his son's husband."

Max physically recoils on the bed like he's been slapped. Max wasn't fed love on a silver spoon during childhood like Daniel. That's why he learned to lick it off knives.

"I'm not having this conversation right now,"

Daniel speaks again before Max can stand up and walk away. "Your therapist said spending time with him is not good for you." At least that's what Max said when explaining why he did not invite Jos to their anniversary celebration.

"She doesn't know shit."

Daniel sits up, anger spiking his veins with thousands of blades. "Max, mate. Everyone and their mother has read the fucking Guardian interview, so maybe knowing him calling you a failure made it on the front page is enough!"

"Fuck you, Daniel. Seriously, fuck you." If he knew him less, Max would easily believe Daniel had never read the interview. This is the first time Daniel mentions it. "I wanted to tell him about Beijing, so thank you for your fucking support!"

This time, Daniel just watches Max leave.

next part

[tineeericeee]

What Waits Off the Coast of Santa Barbara

Chapter 5: Give and Take, Ask and Answer

Notes: so uhm- eheheh, funny story…

I have added an indeterminable amount of new chapters — chapters I don’t know the amount of because I haven’t even drafted them :’) but if I had to guess, it’d be around upwards of ten extra chapters

*screaming and crying* SOMEBODY FUCKING SEDATE ME-

Sorry for the super late update 

—————

The car ride was silent. A bit awkward, if Shawn was being honest. He fiddled with the uncomfortable seat belt, then his hands, trying to ignore the side-eyes ‘Carlton Lassiter’ was giving him. He wasn’t sure what his deal was with him. Then again, he’d also be suspicious if he was with a weird guy that was previously a weird mermaid. Even so, there was quite a few quick glances.

Shawn hated silence. Even the ocean had the odd whale call every now and then. And besides, sound traveled a lot better through water than it did on land. Without the constant pressure of sea water pushing on his ears, everything felt so much more quiet. All that he could hear right now was the rumble of the car engine and wind whistling outside.

He’d be filling the empty void right now with flirting and witty banter (all of it aimed at the man behind the steering wheel, of course). But he was still working on getting his mouth and tongue to cooperate with him. He’d barely been able to say his name earlier, and the other quips he’d made before that had been just as much a struggle.

He reached out to fiddle with the radio fixed to the dash, the tarp wrapped around him making a swishing sound as he did so. Someone had to substitute the silence for noise, and if Shawn couldn’t fill it with speaking he might as well have something else do it for him.

“-I wanna see you out that door, baby bye bye bye (bye bye!)”

Not even two seconds had passed and it was immediately shut off once more by Carlton. His hand was a blur as it reached towards the dash and pressed the power button. 

Silence reigned once more. 

Shawn hummed a tune under his breath, parts of a whale song he’d heard a few days ago broken with the odd line from the chorus of ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ by Tears for Fears. It mixed horribly, but the only one that was there to judge his humming skills were him and Carlton. 

Fingers drummed against his thighs in tempo, plastic fabric rustling with every tap, head nodding along subconsciously. 

The air was tense, despite Shawn’s best efforts. 

Until Carlton cleared his throat. “So… you uh- you’re…”

“Real?” Shawn finished for him. He mentally patted himself on the back for not fucking up the pronunciation. Even though it was fairly simple. Still, small victories and all that. 

“No- I mean… you’re sitting in my car, I think that’s enough evidence that you’re real.” He took a deep breath. “I was going to say that- that you’re a siren.” 

Hold up, what? This guy thought he was a siren? He had to be joking, pulling his leg. But no, his face, whilst still staring at the road, was dead serious.

Shawn couldn’t help laughing, a sound that was a mix of human laughter along with dolphin chirps and whistles. “Siren? You- thought- those ugly half-vulture ladies? Hell no!” 

Saying it out loud made him laugh harder. At least that was one thing he could still do without struggle. Simply speaking that broken sentence was a battle. But it was one that was slowly getting more and more easy to overcome. 

The car slowed down as they came to a red-light, albeit a bit jerkily. Shawn barely noticed, too busy laughing his ass off, cheeks growing hot. Of all the things he could’ve been called, ‘siren’ wasn’t on the list of things he’d thought of. 

“It’s a valid conclusion, alright?” Carlton’s face went bright red in embarrassment. It was cute, Shawn found, the way his lips pursed as he practically became a tomato. 

He continued, and asked interrogatively, “How else did you make me help you?” 

Shawn’s laughs died down to a couple giggles. “Make you… what?” 

What did that mean? Then Shawn realized that Carlton thought he’d done some kind of voodoo seduction spell and forced him to help get out of the net. 

He let out an involuntary snort, and giggled more. “I can’t do that. That’d be really cool though.” 

But the sight of Carlton’s still serious expression made him come to a full stop. He wasn’t kidding. Oh man, he didn’t really think that, did he? That Shawn could just full-on take over someone and make them do his bidding? That that was why Carlton had helped him in the first place? 

Yeah, getting people to do stuff you wanted them to do could be cool. In theory. But… just the thought of it didn’t really sit right with him. Full control? Probably a little invasive. Definitely a little invasive. 

The light turned green again, and Carlton pressed the gas pedal a little too aggressively. The engine revved as they shot past the traffic light. There wasn’t really anyone around to notice, however. Except for a lone car sitting at the exit of a small parking lot, waiting for the Crown Vic to drive past so it could pull out. 

“Dude, even if I was a siren, I couldn’t make you do anything. They just… sing about what you want most. Draw you towards them, that stuff.” 

Shawn remembered his first — and last — encounter with the nasty creatures. He was grateful he’d paid some attention to the Greek mythology section of eighth grade history. Otherwise he’d have seen that rocky island full of bird women and not thought twice about swimming over and investigating. Of course, he knew what was up the moment he saw the big vultures with human heads surrounded by torn clothing and shredded steel beams. 

Eyes never leaving the road, Carlton drummed his fingers against the wheel. “So, you’re not… in my head? You’re not influencing my judgment?”

“Nope. Not a little bit.” 

He nodded, donning a thoughtful expression. 

And then it was quiet. 

Two minutes passed before Shawn became antsy. 

What to do, what to do, what to do… 

He thought back to when Carlton had opened up his glove compartment earlier to grab the bottle of ibuprofen. Along with the medicine, he’d seen the standard car manual, with a gun sitting comfortably on top. 

Shawn took another quick scan of the car and found a radio in the cup-holder. A closer look at the man behind the wheel told him there was a badge and a pair of handcuffs stuffed in his pockets. 

It was easy enough to piece together that this guy worked with the police. Child’s play, really. He was probably a detective, the setup reminding Shawn of when his own father had made the transition from officer to detective. 

“It’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure that even if you’re a detective it’s still illegal to drive when you’re drunk.” 

The last part was also easy to deduce, the faint scent of alcohol permeating Carlton’s breath. Faint, most likely faded enough to leave him sober. But still there. 

A beat passed. 

“What gave it away?” 

“Well, the radio was a big hint.” He gestured to the aforementioned object still sitting in the cupholder. “Handcuffs sticking out of the back pocket were a dead give away. But I almost missed it. That ass is so distracting. And third: your badge? There’s a perfect outline of it in your other pocket.” 

Shawn could see the look of impression that Carlton was trying to tamp down. “How did you figure I’m a detective, not just a cop?” 

“Let’s just say I… knew someone. Yeah.” He wasn’t ready to really open up about his dad. Not yet. Not to a stranger. Maybe Gus, when he saw him. Besides, he’d rather not have someone who most likely knew Henry professionally be privy to the fact that Shawn was his son. “The setup was a lot like yours.”

It was quiet again, save for the humming engine and the small taps Shawn’s fingernails made against the hard plastic door handle. 

Carlton flicked on his turn signal, pulling into the left turn lane. “What’s with the… just a while ago, on the beach, why were you so…”

So big. The unspoken words reverberated through the car. 

Truth be told, Shawn never really wondered why his human form and his mer form had such a large difference in size. Evolution, maybe? The ‘why’ never bothered him, just grateful for the advantage over all other ocean life. Nothing bothered him when he was that size. 

The only thing bigger than Shawn were whales, who simply allowed him to travel alongside as he pleased, not sensing any danger from him. 

“Not sure. But it’s useful. Easy to hunt, get food.” Shawn stated matter-of-factly.  

Again, Carlton nodded in agreement. “I would assume so.”

Buildings flew by as the car trundled on. The sky had significantly lightened up by now, a small sliver of the sun peeking over the horizon. Outside, Shawn could hear seagulls cawing and birds chirping. It had been a while since he’d heard those. 

“How long?” 

This time, it was Shawn’s turn to look confused. He turned away from the window to look at Carlton, who still had not taken his eyes away from the road. “What?” 

“How long were you underwater, away from land?” 

Shawn’s mouth opened and closed, not unlike a fish out of water (which was technically what he was). 

Noticing his silence, he began to elaborate. “The way you talk, like you used to but haven’t in a long time. That’s how I know.” Carlton pulled onto a smaller road, houses lining both sides of the street. “You figured out I’m a detective, I’m a little surprised you thought I was incompetent. There’s a reason I have this job, and it’s not because I sat on my ass and asked for it.” 

Shawn sighed. He was right about that. Still, it was kind of embarrassing to have it pointed out to him. “What year is it?” 

“2006.” 

“About a decade, then. Give or take a few months.” An idea struck Shawn. “Speaking of which, what’d I miss while I was gone? Did they renew the Breakfast Club? Any new movies with Val Kilmer? Any world changing events like that?” 

Shawn hadn’t expected the flurry of emotions coming from Carlton. When he did speak, his voice was just barely raised a pitch. “Uhm, well, there sure were- but that’s a conversation for later.” 

It was perfect timing. Carlton pulled the Crown Vic in the driveway of an immaculate house. The lawn was neatly trimmed, the home a clean shade of green and void of any dirt or grime. If Shawn didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed whoever lived there was someone who was boring and worked a nine to five office job. 

But a quick glance inside told him the opposite, as Shawn exited the car, tarp still swishing around him. Sharper than average eyes let him see that there was some kind of corkboard with mugshots pinned in some kind of order, with what were most likely descriptions of the people printed underneath. 

Lassiter dug through his pockets and fished out a set of keys, unlocking the door. “Go on ahead to the bathroom, it’s down the hall second door on the left. I need to find the first aid kit.” 

Inside, Shawn got a better look at the board he’d seen from outside. Now that he was closer, he could actually read the descriptions. It was a wall full of convicted criminals, each one more rough than the last. Save for the one in the top left corner, who appeared to be a dapper gentleman. 

He walked down the hallway, and noticed a room, door wide open so there was no need to do it himself, right across from where he’d been instructed the bathroom was. A desk sat beside the bed, covered in papers and a singular empty file. 

Shawn knew he didn’t have time to really examine them, so from the door he quickly scanned the closest papers to the best of his ability. 

Something something dead astronomer something planetarium…

“Wow, he really puts the ‘home’ in homework.” Shawn muttered under his breath before retreating into the bathroom where he’d been told to go. 

—————

ao3 link

[mizuta]

far from it to be my style to post about hashtag mental health issues on main but like. look. ive& been psychotic as far back as i can tangibly remember (hallucinating at 10-11, cognitive symptoms and episodes by 13-14). its been a part of my life so long that like... in a lot of ways im used to it and coping with symptoms and my life grew around a lot of the symptoms. like a tree trunk growing around a foreign object as a sapling. something that pierces directly through the middle but doesnt really impact the trees ability to stay alive in any meaningful way.

so like in a lot of ways im used to being in my own head. my partner is good at recognizing that things that are distressing to me in episodes dont process whatsoever as distressing to me a good chunk of the time. when im acting visibly distressed it actually means my level of distress is at like, 200%. its fucking unmanageable. if im visibly distressed its worse than anyone could conceptualize because typically otherwise im just numb to a lot of it or its just default my reality that its not distressing in any meaningful way until after the fact.

but like im ngl just because ive spent all of my teenage years upwards trying to take up literally the least space possible to exist and never show 80% of my "unacceptable" symptoms to 99% of people does not mean it makes it any less uncomfortable or awkward to like. be the token psychotic in some groups. to have to be the buzzkill and shit thats like hey sorry heres my hyperspecific request of the year because im fucking insane.

its miserable in a fresh new way of like sorry to have to remind everyone that its not actually a funny character quirk or joke my brain literally does not exist in your 'reality' in any meaningful way and the further outside of it i am on a given day the more unpleasant youre going to find me to be around. ignoring the insane person talking aimlessly in public doesnt actually help me it usually just reinforces that youre not real and never will be if its a bad enough day.

its never intentional. like nobody is ever doing this on purpose. especially again because i spent so much of my life being very good at hiding it. but like... it sucks so much to be masking half the time and be a little too good at it so when you stop being able to people are always levels of uncomfortable or upset. it sucks when you cant articulate anything properly and nobody really knows how to understand what youre asking for. it sucks when you have multiple severe memory conditions and cant trust your own memory and everyone immediately questions your memory when you ask for anything or point anything out. like of course im just going to fucking fold.

i dont know where im going with this or if this itself is even that coherent i know it sounds super vague but it really isnt about anyone specific im just babbling about like years worth of garbage. i got so fucked over by fakeclaiming culture because unfortunately when i started really displaying symptoms i was a teenager trying not to kill himself and being fucking insane loudly in virtual public when that was apparently an "obvious sign of exaggerating" so i had to learn to shut the fuck up and now everybody loves to forget how much im fucking unwell because god forbid you think too hard about what youre saying around others.

thank god for my partner who is literally the first person in my entire life whos ever tried to understand and genuinely knows how to talk to me when im in a particularly bad delusion or hallucinating or whatever.

man. im tired. i found out this last month i probably need to get a cane when i move out and i still feel like im going to be appropriating shit because severe knee and upper leg paint and severe balance problems cant be that bad. i hate having memory problems so bad that i so easily can be told that i dont know shit and Y is actually what happened and i usually cant actually argue against it even if im so sure thats not true.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 44

Happy New Year ... and what a strangely subdued table ... ah, I see ... what the hell is THIS msd shite? The camera perspective is WEIRD and Ashley is giving me motion sickness ... Travis: "Why do you keep calling this a drift?" Sam: "Because it sounds cooler!"

Laura: "How did you get changed so fast?" Indeed ...

MERCH!!! Apparently ... XD

Matt: "I wanna feel a pocket too." Laura: "Well you can't! You should have done it before the shoe."

TLOVM is SO CLOSE!!! Yes it is! Squee!

So what's happening in the cellar? Solve the cliffhanger! Solve the cliffhanger!

Laudna:"FCG, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" FCG: "I like to do the sound effects for people."

Chetney wants to turn this into an orgy to make them uncomfortable ... FCG: "I could use my tongue!" The rest (ESPECIALLY Matt): "NO!!!"

Working out the mechanics of blocking the door ... Liam: "Well I think that's the SECOND step of the orgy."

Yes. 11 is better than 10. By ONE, in fact.

Matt leading them to how to jam the door with the rod through the handle ... why do I sense a trap?

Meanwhile Chetney is STILL preparing for sexy times. This episode is getting horny already ...

Frog? Huh?

Laudna's going to use Shapechange on Pate and turn him into a spider ... that is CREEPY ...

Half-elf ... handlebar moustache? That's impressive, I thought D&D elves couldn't grow facial hair.

Living whirlwind weirdness ... WTF is THAT shit?

Uh-oh ... they're busted ... that's not good ...

The spider's physical strength? For real? Negative 2? OH REALLY?!!! Pate! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Laudna's clearly getting a mental eyeball swirl ... Matt: "Make a Constitution saving throw." Laura: "Don't throw up on me." She does ... oh boy ...

FCG: "EVERYONE wants to talk. It can help your insides AND your outsides."

And they're determined to get fucking! Fearne's stripping off already ... here we go ... XD

Roll for initiative!

Sam: "Maybe this is a super horny air elemental."

The idea of FCG underlighting Fearne's underboob is sending me ... XD

ROLLIES!!!

Travis (as Chetney): "Taliesin we miss you!"

Liam: "Plan fucking? You want to fuck in initiative order?"

Orym: "Invite only!" Like a badass!

Travis: "Our son will see this one day!" Laura: "Don't say that!"

All the dirty talk is getting a bit much ad the group are still pretending the orgy I'd still happening while Liam us congratulating Matt on creating all that "DEEP LORE" in the last episode. Now NOBODY can keep a straight face ...

This whole combat is completely imploding because the innuendos have taken over and everybody's just pissing themselves ...

The Gil dice DID NOT fuck Marisha but it's too late to contest it now ...

Werewolf Chetney pornstar dialogue routine ... oh boy ...

I just cannot take this seriously any more, I swear ...

Travis (werewolf Chetney voice): "I'm a big bright shining star!"

Naked Fearne is doing an interpretive fire dance ... and holding her action ... Matt: "Make a deception check." Sam: "Danception!" Ashley rolls a 15.

The thing is CONFUSED. Ashley: "Then my work is done." Oh boy ...

FCG: "No touch no touch no touch!" The group descends into giggles.

I'm sorry, is Orym now BLUFFING?

Werewolf Chetney: "Can you just wait until the scene is done? I get performance anxiety."

Orym uses his vine attack from the sword to yznk the half-elf down the stairs ... yeah, here we go, then. Whoa, Ofym is stabbing him in the side of his gut while he's down and trying NOT to be lethal? Really?

Another one ... ooh, this one sounds more dangerous ... oh, Chetney AND Orym both take hits! Meanwhile she is weirded out by the scene in general ... of course she is!

No! Not a crossbow! Not good! Argh!

Matt's getting hits but keeps rolling so shitty on the damage! XD

So they ARE committed to fighting in a basement? Oh wait, here we go ... Imogen trying to bluff them out of this now ... this deception check is SO vital ... FUCK!!! Crap roll!

Yeah, that really didn't work ...

Imogen Misty Steps into the kitchen ... and Matt's goy ANOTHER combat map prepared!

Laudna: "My scene partner!"

Naked Laudna form of Dread! And Spiderclimb! That is WILD!!! And clearly MOST unsettling ... Mirror Images TOO?!!! Yeesh!

Matt: "This got really weird really fast!" Marisha: "Yes! It did!"

A naked werewolf leaping right at you WOULD be scary, wouldn't it?

Sam: "Whoo! THAT'S a blowjob!" Oof ...

Yay! Mage Armour for the win!

Half-elf: "What is even happening here?" Laura: "Indeed!" Werewolf Chetney: "Physical expression!"

Fearne: "We're done, we're done, we're done with the bit?" FCG: "That's a cut!"

She turns into a Clydesdale! Oh boy ... Laura: "How are you gonna get out?"

AND now she's wedged in what's left of the door ... oh boy ... this is just a MESS again ...

Sam: "I can change that!" Matt: "Players make the creative choices they choose!" Sam: "I don't want to subject our viewers to that image!"

Travis: "Vigorous masturbation! Just furious!"

Gods, it's all pure filth again ... I just can't ...

Liam, determined to bring the serious tone back in order to get them out if this mess now ... yes, Action Surge! Noyce! And halfling luck to reroll 1s is so sweet ... 24! Excellent! Acrobatic Orym for the win!

The bad guys are still so confused! XD

Athletics Check for a horse kick ... NO!!! Damn it, that would have been SO cool ...

Silvery Barbs! Ooof ... but it doesn't work, bugger ...

Matt: "Enemies can multiclass too!"

FCG: "Me? But I'm just the sweet cinematographer!"

Psychic Lance at BOTH OF THEM?!!! Oof ... SEVEN D6 of Psychic damage? Ow ...

Laudna's casting Bane! Cue Tom Hardy in the Bane mask muttering noises from half the group. XD Travis (as Bane): "Gravity has BETRAYED you!"

Turmoil! Nice! Fire sickle! Double nice! And the rogue is incapacitated ... oh this is gonna be NASTY ...

Marisha doing a weird Laudna nude shimmy action is hilarious ... XD

Wow, the Elementalist really doesn't have a clue what he's doing here, does he? FCG: "You're doing great!"

The situation in the kitchen is so much worse ...

Yes! The horse kick works this time! Nice! And they fall on FCG. Oof ...

Horse Fearne BURSTS through the door into the kitchen ... oh boy ... pure fucking chaos in here now ...

Chetney is NOT getting out of the way, he us STANDING HIS GROUND!!! Oh boy ... he is CONTESTING the horse! Ashley: "WHY?!!!" Chetney, WTF are you doing?

Horse Fearne is now going APESHIT.

The guy hasn't been touched. Sam: "Banishment!" Travis SCREAMS in gleeful astonishment and he's not the only one impressed by Sam's audacious BALLS.

Travis, describing what FCG sees when they come up: "Tits everywhere." XD He gets the jitters. Marisha: "Oh really?" FCG: "I'm going jnto the red, guys!"

Orym tries to dart under Fearne's legs but it's just TOO crazy for him ... or not? Oh, so Matt has to CHECK THE RULES now! Holy fuck, Liam sctually GETS THE PASS because the rules are on Orym's side! AND he gets a sweet attack on the rogue on the other side! HE GETS THE HDYWTDT!!! And then he just keeps on going into the front room!

It's the mage's turn ... he decides to just FLEE!!! Of course he does! XD but he has a parking gift with the orb! Lightning attack! Eep!

Ouch ... okay, Laudna is FUCKED UP, and Horse Fearne is destroyed, leaving only a naked Fearne stood in the middle of the kitchen!

Mage full clutzes CLEAN through the window and he's FUCKED UP but STILL manages to maintain concentration on the elemental?

Does Inflict Wound even work on a Wind creature? 6 D10 of Necrotic damage? Holy fuck Imogen you can be TERRIFYING sometimes.

Wait, Pate was still trapped inside the vortex? XD Anyway, he got YEETED ...

Laudna sends him BACK INTO the elemental and casts Shocking Grasp through him into it! Boss move! 10 Lightning damage! Fuck!

It is now SCARED of her and I am NOT surprised ...

Chetney jumps through the window and MAULS the mage in the alley while he's down ... oof ... that is NASTY. And he KILLS HIM!!! Of course he does ... AND he just chucks the corpse back through the window !

Oh fuck ... now the elemental is UNFETTERED!!! That may have just backfired on them ... yup, it's just flailing like crazy ...

Fuck! Imogen's now unconscious? Fuck ... oh! No! Phew ... whsy a fucking SAVE!!! Laudna saved her with Silvery Barbs!

FCG casts Spare the Dying on the mage. And they zre now in A murder scene in a residential area. Matt: "And that's where we're gonna take a break!"

Stay, run or hide? Who's good with religion? What? There's no time,this guy's coming back already! Ashton has the Hole! (Because it's funny.) They grab the mage and BOLT right out into the street.

Guy's back in the kitchen but they're already gone ... phew ...

Pate really enjoyed that, apparently. XD

Somehow Ashley rolling 26 saves the group's collective Stealth. XD SO far away from the old days ...

Ashley's just being Fearne being a horse again. XD Imogen is being a horse girl going along with it. It's really quire adorable.

Looking for parks, then. Or not? Now looking for DOCKS. A warehouse? Now I'm confused ...

Oh, right, for an interrogation. Yeah, makes sense. Yeah, maybe FCG isn't the best choice for this. Yeah, Imogen is better for this.

Uh-oh, he's waking up ... and now they've brained the poor bastard. FCG casts Spare the Dying again. Matt: "Just to be safe."

Matt: "Are you looking for anything in particular with this warehouse?" Laura: "Something shadowy and abandoned-y."

FCG: "We really don't wanna give him brain damage."

Lock picking! Okay, here we go, Chet, roll nice ... 25 on stealth ... AND 25 for the lock picking itself! Bloody hell, Travis!

Guy tries to bolt and Matt rolls SCARY well, everybody scrambles to stop him! Miniature initiative! It's chaos! Oh nice one Imogen! Perfect, that's it. Game over.

Wow, this guy is weirdly smug all of a sudden.

Imogen: "Oh yeah, well it's a porn-gardening business." FCG: "Trimmed Hole Productions."

Wow, dude is LOADED!!! Nice.

Laudna Banes him snd FCG casts Fast Friends. Chetney: "Suppose that's better than me pulling out his fingernails."

FCG: "We are sexual deviants, it's true." Chetney: "That's our LLC Name."

Laudna: "Do gods not like sex?" Imogen: "I think some if them do."

Fearne: "How do you make a fresh start?" By siding with Predathos and killing the gods, sounds like.

Oh fuck, they totally hot him to admit that they're working with Thull! Nice one, Imogen!

Who is this HIM?

Oh, so this is an enemy of Ira's ... an older elf gentleman? Intriguing ... seriously, who IS this guy they're working for?

Wait ... is he some Unseelie dude running that operation from the Feywild?

Creepy ruins! That's intriguing too!

Bracers of Defence ... so they're DEFINITELY gonna kill him, then? Ooof ...

Yeah, clearly these guys are seriously FUCKED in the head. They're just gonna doom the whole world if they get their way.

Orym: "What did Zephrah have to do with any of this?" Liam rolls HIGH for an insight check znd GETS A WHISPER! Sam: "From hardcore porn to hardcore lore!"

Yeah, no, this is NOT a conversation that they're actually having in front of this guy. I kind of got that already.

24 on a persuasion check ... Nice!

Imogen just TOTALLY gets to this guy through his hubris. AND bullying. Da'leth? Here we go. You total moron. XD

"You have terrible taste in friends, you know that?" FCG: "You just have to get to know them. Biblically."

Sam's flask this week is an FCG self portrait with ACTUAL TONGUE!!! Urgh ... XD

What to do with him, then? Oh, yeah ... the Grim Verity would be a good choice, they might have questions for him, message Ryn.

The mind-numbing task of working out where the hell they even are. Tricky ...

She literally just goes right over and KNOCKS ON THE DOOR!!! Ryn, you awesome lady ...

Oh, she knows who Da'leth is ... oh boy ...

Yes, destroy the keys ... The Malleus Keys? Oooooh ...

Ah, so the one in the Feywild is potentially in trouble ... well you're gonna be going there anyway, so ...

Yeah, this guy is just a complete MORON. XD

Cheesesteak. Yes. Sounds GORGEOUS. And Ryn continues to be amazing.

Laudna, you got A BUNCH of friends now!

Laura (exasperated): "Why am I rolling so many ones today?"

Only midafternoon? It feels SO LATE ...

STAT!!!

Ashton's response ... Matt: "Is where we'll pick up again next week!"

Travis: "You know who I blame for this? I blame the Mighty Nein for not finishing the Cerberus Assembly when they had the chance!"

We're really just going through a memory lane of all the crazy shit they went through in the first 2 campaigns now, huh? And Sam gets a sneaky little 4-Sided Dive plug in too ...

[pattwtf]

After these weeks, even if I didn't log in so often as I used to due to work and family stuff so I really don't know exactly who has been harassed and how, I've kept reading how many people feel so disconnected and distant from this site that used to be a refuge and a place where we all agreed on the love for Pedro/Pedro boys and other fandoms... I always felt safe, I saw the love we all had for each other through comments, supporting the work of artists that have been around for more than a year in general (some more, some less), friendly asks, etc. Love was in the air... And suddenly (although there are always a bunch of stupid people everywhere, not just here, like that's nothing new), something has happened and everything has become uncomfortable for many people, who feel singled out and judged for different reasons by a group of some jerks with bad intentions, prejudices and lots of free time.

... I understand (for what I could find randomly) that they have destructively criticized authors and their writings for random reasons, like age gap and other things ... Others were directly plagiarized, others left months ago after suffering bullying because people hiding behind fake accounts made up that they were mean behind the backs of people who appreciated them... Yeah, well, many many creepy things.

In short, what used to be, at least for me, a place to enjoy the work of other users and support everyone I could so they could continue doing what they are passionate about... Now feels like a place where those artists want to run away from and even stop creating for a while...

It breaks my heart and since I don't know exactly who this has happened to, I send all my support and love to everyone who has been affected. And I encourage them to always go ahead with what makes them happy. Take the time you need, post wherever you feel safe, but never stop creating cause of some rude, cowardly, unempathetic cowards. Most of us, 99% of your audience love you, enjoy your work and, if they don't, they understand that not everything is made for everybody, and that's perfect.

The other 1%... Please, PLEASE, quit. It's not just about this site, it's a about how you make other people feel, about how you can be so evil you do this shit and don't even think twice before. Everyone here is a human being behind a screen. With their lifes, jobs, families, studies and everything in between... You don't know who's struggling and enters here to feel a bit better doing whatever they love, creating or enjoying other's creations. Maybe someone isnt having the best time of their lifes... Maybe they are having the worst ever, and you guys go and give hell to them... Before you reach to anyone here, think if what you're gonna say will help them grow, improve, feel good...

Or if, on the contrary, whatever happens to you has only to do with you, with whether you like or dislike something that you could have stopped reading... With your preferences, which you should not impose on others, with your prejudices or with your vital dissatisfaction, in need of confrontation and people having a hard time to improve your mood.

IN THAT CASE, SHUT THE FUCK UP. Please and thank you. LET PEOPLE BE. You win NOTHING AT ALL doing those things and the one you annoy with all that crap can lose motivation, inspiration, you can hurt their feelings... Is it necessary to write 828119k words to tell you this as if you were toddlers? REALLY?

Sorry for writing such a superlong post, and im sure i might've maaany mistakes there. But im sure all of you understand what I mean and feel as sick of this as I do, with all these great people dealing with this who knows why...😒

Once again, we all appreciate your efforts, hard work and creativity. Y'all are so incredibly talented... It'd be a shame to lose any of you cause of these assholes.

LOVE YOU

Promise I won't be this intense in a while but... Yeah.

[the-iceni-bitch]

The Days and Nights are Long

Pairing: clueless!Colin Shea x clueless!fem Reader

Words: ~4K

Summary: You and Colin are being idiots and it’s driving his band crazy.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, squirting), idiots in love, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: It took way longer than I had planned but here’s some more of our drunk, musical idiots in love for you hoes!!! I love them so, even though they’re morons. Tagging my Colin babes @starlightcrystalline and @wayward-blonde because I know they’ve been waiting for this.

I no longer do taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Colin shook his head and shrugged uncomfortably as he stared at his phone, wracking his brain to think of what exactly he should say to you.

“For fuck’s sake, Shea, just ask her to come up.” Matt looked exasperated, twirling his stick through his fingers as he rolled his eyes when Colin scowled at him.

He’d been moping for the past two weeks, ever since the two of you had slept together. All of his bandmates were getting sick of it, the man was the biggest pouty baby on the face of the planet. If they had to listen to him sing Everybody Hurts one more time they were going to kill him.

So they’d come up with a little plan to get him out of his funk, lining up a gig that would really lend itself better to a female vocalist and feigning innocence when Colin pointed that out. They had really enjoyed hanging out with you on that exceptionally hot evening, and if having you join them again was the only way to get their boy out of his funk, even better. He had actually smiled before pulling his phone out, but then he realized he had no idea what he should say.

The two of you had still been cordial whenever you ran into each other, but there was definitely a strain to your interactions now. No matter how much you both told each other it wasn’t awkward, it was definitely awkward. It was also weird that he was pretty sure you hadn’t come home after 1 AM at all in the last two weeks, and you usually at least spent your weekend nights at some other asshole’s apartment. Not that he’d had any visitors either, but he didn’t want to explore that too much.

He was still staring at his phone screen and trying to come up when some nonchalant greeting that would entice you to come sing with them when the phone was suddenly plucked out of his hand by an exasperated looking Keith, who ignored his spluttering as he typed a quick message before tossing the phone back to him.

“You’re thinking about this too hard.” The bassist said, setting to tuning his instrument and chuckling at the indignant look on Colin’s face.

Colin was about to give a snarky reply when he felt his phone buzz and looked down to see a text from you, grinning when he saw you saying you’d be right up. With an exclamation point! He didn’t even notice the pleased grins his bandmates were giving each other as they watched him start to tune his guitar, plucking a happy little tune and humming to himself.

They were all expecting you to come through the main door from the stairs, so when you shouted hello from behind them after climbing up your fire escape, you were greeted with the sight of five grown men almost jumping out of their skins before turning to greet you.

That grin on your face was enough to make Colin melt, all the awkwardness that had been lingering between you disappearing in an instant when you met each other’s eyes.

“Alright boys!” You took the mic Brad handed you with a warm smile, rolling it in one hand as you trailed the cord through your fingers. “You said you needed my help with something Col, what’s up?”

“Right, these idiots lined up a gig for us without consulting me first.” They all avoided his halfhearted glare with doe eyed innocence, focusing on their instruments. “And, well, the set list isn’t really in my range.”

“Lemme see.” You took the sheet of paper from his hand and scanned it quickly. “That’s a whole lot of girl rock.”

“Yeah, like I said, Ann Wilson and I aren’t really in the same register.” Fuck, it was nice to be able to talk to you again.

“Why don’t you just modulate it, then?” You mumbled absentmindedly.

He gaped like a fish at that question. He honestly hadn’t even thought about it, and even if he had, he wasn’t expecting you to know about modulation.

“If we modulate for him, none of us can hit the harmonies.” Craig piped up from behind the keyboards, and he could have kissed him.

“That right?” You teased, shooting a wicked smirk around at them. “You boys sure you didn’t just miss me?”

Colin tried not to sound too hysterical when he let out a laugh, missing the indulgent eye rolls his band mates were giving behind your backs.

“What do you think, we booked a gig where I can’t sing any of the songs on purpose just so we could hang out again?” Good thing he was pretty, the man was clueless.

“No, you’re not that clever, Col.” He made a mock wounded gesture and you grinned at him, looking over the set list some more. “What kind of gig is this anyway?”

“Yeah, Craig, you never told us what the actual gig was.” Colin and the rest of the band gave the keyboardist a variety of inquisitive stares.

“Uh, it’s a bachelorette party.” He mumbled, avoiding making eye contact with his bandmates when they started groaning.

“Fuck, Craig! I do not want to get felt up by a bunch of drunk, horny women!” Colin threw a balled up sheet of music at you when you started laughing.

“That seems right up your alley, Shea.” You teased, dodging when he threw a pillow from the couch at you. “You don’t want to pick up some rowdy bridesmaid?”

“No, they’re scary aggressive.” He shuddered when he thought about the last bachelorette party they had done, they’d practically ripped the band’s clothes off before they could get out of there.

“Aww, well I’ll be there to shield you this time, sweetie.” You winked at him and moved a little closer to everyone. “Let’s practice, boys. Don’t want to give those girls cause to complain.”

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

It was the day of the gig, and you and Colin had decided to drive together to streamline things. He was waiting in your living room and tapping his foot nervously as he waited for you to finish getting ready, anxious about what actually performing with you would be like.

“Y/N, we need to go!” He never thought you would be the type to take forever getting ready.

“Yeah, I know!” You strolled out to the living room with a grin on your face and he had to swallow a groan. “How do I look?”

“Good, really good.” The way he was looking at you made your grin grow even wider.

The outfit wasn’t even that special, just a denim mini skirt and a tight v-neck tee with a leather jacket. Oh, and thigh high leather boots. It was definitely the boots he was staring at, his eyes trained on the few inches of bare skin between the top of the boots and the hem of your skirt. You gave him a couple minutes to just stare at you before rolling your eyes and strolling towards your front door, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him after you.

“C’mon Shea, we don’t wanna be late.” You scolded, shoving his amp into his hand and slinging his guitar case over your shoulder before heading down the stairs.

He had trouble focusing on the road as he drove you to the bar the party was going to be at, all he wanted to do was memorize the way you looked in that outfit. It was like someone told you exactly what to wear to drive him crazy. Maybe bringing you into this gig hadn’t been the best idea, because all he wanted to do right now was pull over and let you ride him while you weren’t wearing anything except for those boots and that jacket, and maybe whatever lingerie you had on under that outfit.

“Colin, you’re going to miss the turn.” Your voice snapped him out of his little daydream, and he cursed as he took the turn towards the bar a little faster than he would have liked.

“Sorry, just got a little distracted.” He mumbled, slowing down as he turned into the alley behind the bar and put the car in park behind Matt’s van.

The rest of the band was already unloading, waving at you two as Colin shut off his vehicle and you stepped out. You actually gave Craig and Keith little side hugs before you started helping with the unloading, he hadn’t realized you guys had gotten that close over the past week, and for some reason it made him smile.

“How’s it going man?” He didn’t know how he felt about the look Matt was giving him as he helped carry the bass drum inside, it felt suggestive of something. “Y/N seems excited to be here.”

“Yeah, I thought she might be nervous about performing but she’s handling everything like a pro.” He watched you laugh at something Brad said as you worked on connecting your mic. “Maybe we should make her an official member.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Matt just shrugged, laughing when Colin rounded on him and started spluttering.

“I was joking! We can’t just ask Y/N to be in the band!” Could they? Having you around had been a lot of fun, and the band dynamic had helped alleviate some of the tension that had been growing between you two. But seeing you tonight looking like you did and knowing that you were gonna have to have some on stage chemistry to make this work was making him think twice about things. You got a little intense during rehearsals, and the added pressure of being on stage might make him combust if you kicked it up at all.

Matt shook his head at him and set to assembling his kit while the rest of the band started tuning and connecting their instruments. You just sat on a stool and sipped some water, running through a couple vocal exercises absentmindedly as you scrolled through your phone. It only took a couple of minutes for everyone to finish setting up and then it was mic checks all around.

Everything sounded good and balanced after a couple adjustments and the sound guys gave you the thumbs up to start warming up. Colin couldn’t stop watching you. You were so unbelievably relaxed on stage and it was just endearing you to him even more. He thought for sure you would have been a bundle of nerves but you seemed to be right in your element, tossing him a couple of lazy grins over your shoulder as you ran through a couple of songs before the partygoers started filtering in.

The band switched to doing some instrumental ambience shit while they waited for the party to really get going, and Colin wandered over to talk to you when you took a step back from your mic.

“Still feeling ok about this?” He asked, beaming back at the soft smile you gave him.

“Yeah, I’m excited.” You bounced on your toes a little, adrenaline flooding your veins as the crowd grew. “Think I’ll get any bras thrown at me?”

“You never know with bachelorettes.” He laughed, strolling back over to his own mic so he could introduce the band.

If he thought jamming with you was special, it was nothing compared to watching you perform. You were a goddamn natural, coming alive and feeding off the crowd’s energy until you were completely lost in the music. Every time his eyes met yours you were grinning at him, and your chemistry with the rest of the band was palpable.

Not to mention, you kept drifting close to him on the stage, brushing your hand over his shoulders or leaning against him when you harmonized and it was making his knees weak. , God, he could do this with you every night, even though he was pretty sure he was going to need to sneak into the bathroom to jerk off afterwards.

The show was over too soon, the extremely drunken crowd of rowdy bachelorettes finally getting crazy enough that the band was ready to make a hasty escape. You were bouncing on your toes with residual energy as you started helping the guys pack up their instruments, grabbing Colin’s amp after he shoved his guitar in the case and you both made a run for it to his car when a wobbly woman started to try to climb on the stage.

“Colin, holy fuck that was so much fun!” You managed to make it to the alley unscathed and were giving him the most heartbreaking grin. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

“Yeah? Well you did a great fucking job.” Goddamn it, he’d missed you. “We can do whatever you want, honey.”

“Really?” You slammed the trunk closed and started to prowl closer to him. “Whatever I want?”

“That is what I said.” He could feel his voice dropping into that low register that meant he was in desperate need of some sort of release, so he really hoped he wasn’t misreading this situation. “Why? Did you want something now?”

“I think I do.” Your chest was right against his and you could feel it heaving, gazing at him through your lashes while you ran your fingers over his abs. “I stole the keys to the van.”

“And, you wanna go on a joy ride?” He breathed deep when you brushed your lips over his, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“Or, we could just fuck in the back while the rest of the guys search for these.” You pulled back a little and jingled the keys in his face, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth while he ran his hands over your hips.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He smashed his lips to yours and let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your ass while the two of you stumbled towards the side door of the van.

You fumbled with the keys for a minute because you didn’t want to take your mouth off Colin for any reason, but then you were sliding the door open and the two of you were falling inside in a tangle of limbs before somehow managing to kick the door closed behind you. Trying to undress each other was a little difficult with how wrapped up you were in each other but you managed, tossing your garments away haphazardly as your tongues curled tangled together. Colin grabbed your hands when you went to remove your boots, pulling them up to his face and kissing your palms before winding your arms around his neck.

“Keep those on.” His voice was a low growl and fuck, you forgot how sexy he was.

“Well, cannot say I’m surprised you're a little kinky, Col.” You wound your fingers through his hair and yanked, purring at the groan he gave you. “I’m gonna suck that pretty dick of yours, but then I’ll give it to you nice and rough.”

“God, baby.” He wished he didn’t sound so whiny when you started kissing your way down his chest, but he hadn’t gotten any release except from his hand for the past two weeks and he really needed you to keep doing what you were doing. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“Yeah? Knew you were a good boy.” You winked at him when you started kissing the skin above the band of his boxer briefs before you were yanking them down his thighs and immediately licking a heavy stripe up the underside of his cock when it sprung up against his abs.

Colin had to brace a hand against the side of the van when you worked him over, spitting on his tip and watching it drip down his length before spreading it over him with your lips. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a nice, smooth stroke as you ducked down between his length to press gentle kisses over his balls while you jerked him off. He almost choked on his tongue when you wrapped your lips around his sack and tugged softly, the hum you let out sending a vibration up his spine while your thumb swiped over his swollen tip.

The sounds he was making from just a handjob were enough to soak through the thin lace of your panties, and when he shouted your name when you moved a little lower and teased your tongue over his asshole, well you almost fucking came just from that. You couldn’t believe you had stupidly waited two fucking weeks before indulging in this man again, you finally felt like yourself again. It was driving you absolutely crazy, the way his hips were wriggling underneath you spurring you on until you couldn’t take it any more.

If he thought your hand was incredible, it was nothing compared to the feel of your lips wrapped around his tip while your tongue swirled around his sensitive head. With all the women he’d slept with, he’d definitely suffered through some mediocre and downright disappointing blow jobs. But you felt like you were about to suck the soul out of him, and you’d only just started.

“Ah, Christ.” He was going to pass out if you kept going like this, your mouth was like fucking heaven. “Honey, fuck.”

You shot him a wicked look when you started bobbing your head, taking him just a little deeper each time while your tongue curled around him as much as possible. Then you opened your throat and swallowed him whole and he lost his mind.

He wrapped his hand in your hair and held your head still as he started fucking your throat, his hips bucking wildly while you choked and sputtered around him. Drool was running down your chin and soaking his thighs as you started breathing through your nose, digging your fingers into his thighs while he used you like a fuck toy. You kept your tongue pressed flat against your bottom teeth to avoid choking on it, moaning softly when you tasted the salty tang of his precum hit your tongue. His grip on your hair was growing painful, and you could tell by the way his abs were twitching that he was close.

“Wait, ah shit!” He somehow managed to gather enough self control to pull out of your mouth, groaning at the long string of saliva that kept you connected even as you bit at your swollen lips. “I’m not coming unless it’s in that pretty pussy. How do you want it?”

“Fuck me from behind, Col.”

He growled as he sat up and smashed his lips to yours, savoring the taste of himself on your tongue before flipping your over and burying his face in your hair. You let out a low moan when he slammed into you with no warning, gasping at the punishing pace he was setting and purring when he started mouthing at your neck.

The van was shaking like some sort of cliche while Colin fucked into you with abandon, his hips bouncing off your ass in an obscene display while the two of you whined and panted together. Colin was going to lose his fucking mind, two weeks with barely even talking to you and now he was finally inside you it was all he could do to not go completely feral.

“Oh god, honey.” He was practically whining against your skin when you clenched around him, sucking your ear lobe between his lips while you arched your back and purred for him. “Fuck, you’re so tight and wet. Pussy so fucking good. Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you come.”

“So close, Colin, shit!” You gasped when he hit you deep, curling your body backwards around him and reaching over your shoulder to wind your fingers through his hair and press his lips to yours. “Need that dick so bad. Feel so good when you’re inside me.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He wound one hand around your neck and the other arm around your waist, holding you close while he kissed you deeply and swallowed your wanton mewls with a deep groan. “Come for me.”

His hips ground against you and you slapped the floor of the van when you came, sobbing into his mouth and vibrating underneath him while your pussy strangled his cock. Your teeth nipped at his lips once you were finished, humming happily as he continued fucking you through your high.

“Need more, Colin.” You whimpered when he started slowing down, trying to thrust your hips back towards him as you tried to bring yourself to the edge again. “Harder, I need it.”

“Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.” He tugged at your lips with his teeth, squeezing your neck gently and groaning at your soft whimper as you clenched around him. “Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

You couldn’t respond when he started pounding into you furiously, the way his cock was punching against your soft walls making it a little hard to breathe, never mind thinking. He was hitting every spot you needed him to with each thrust, grunting into your ear each time his hips slammed into you until he felt your breath hitch.

Every time he bottomed out you thought you were going to pass out, the tip of his cock punching against your cervix and making you see stars. It was so good, he was hitting you so deep and smooth you couldn’t believe you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Colin growled when a particularly vicious push had your entire body rising off the floor of the van, your fluttering sigh sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. One more thrust and you lost it, screaming with ecstasy as every muscle in your body vibrated and you squirted all over Colin’s thighs and the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, baby.” Colin was desperate, his rhythm completely gone as he chased his own end while you fluttered around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy up until I’m leaking outta you for the next week.”

“Oh god, please.” Your eyes rolled up in your head while you let him use you, his lips tracing your jaw hungrily as you pushed your hips back to meet his. “Give it to me, Colin.”

He buried his face in your neck and let out a strangled cry when his hips stuttered, thick, warm ropes of white shooting against your soft walls until he was collapsing on top of you with a sated moan. You tangled your fingers with his above your head as your breathing regulated, his breath hot on your neck while the two of you melted into each other.

“We’re not waiting two weeks again, right?” Colin’s arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled into your hair, his lips spreading in a slow smile when he felt you purr contentedly.

“Nope. I’m definitely gonna need this to happen on the regular.” You turned a little so you could rub your nose against his. “You know, in between our other, normal escapades.”

“Right.” His heart fell a little at that, but maybe just interspersing his trysts with you with his other one night stands would help flush his crush on you out of his system.

Before he had a chance to say anything else there was a sudden pounding at the van door, snapping the two of you out of your haze with a pair of exasperated groans.

“Shea!!!” You untangled yourselves as you started to pull on your clothes. “That had better be Y/N in there! If you sad fucked some bachelorette and we have to listen to you sing stupid breakup songs for the next month I’m going to kill you!”

[apricotgojo]

hello love! Can I please request a somewhat spicy sub!chat noir x reader? Maybe where the reader is kinda feeling him up and leaving him hickeys and he’s a purring and moaning mess? Maybe he’s begging her to keep going and who is she to say no to such a sweet baby kitty? If that’s not too much of course😌 tysm

Hello bb ! I hope that this satisfied your sub! Chat needs hehe (i know it satisfied mine so) I really love how this came out and maybe i’m willing on continuing another part from here) Thank you so much for this request ! <3

Pairing: Chat Noir X Reader

Warnings: NSFW, characters are aged up in college here :), swearing.

Tags: Sub!chat, Dry humping, begging.

This is how it all went down. He saved you from an akumatized villain. He flirted. You flirted back. Then you guys started hooking up.

You didn’t understand why Chat Noir would do this with a civilian but like every other person on this planet, he has his needs. He would knock in a pattern on your window so you knew it was him and you would let him in, you’d talk for a bit, ask each other about your day until one of you breaks and pushes the other on the bed or against the wall. He was good in bed. Very good. You knew you’d never grow tired of this affair. To top it all off after you both finished you’d sit in bed and talk about all sorts of things. Aliens, Conspiracy theories about the media, gossip about people and sometimes he’d even play Mario Kart with you.

There were no strings attached. You both made it clear from day one. There couldn’t be. You both didn’t have the time for a relationship, you both didn’t have the energy for one so you simply stuck to the title ‘fuck buddies’ until one of you decides to back out. This night was different though. A smile didn’t appear on your face when you hear the familiar knock on your window because you were stuck cussing at your computer screen and rubbing your head in frustration. You had an essay to explain Shakespeare and his works but for some reason you kept deleting all that you’ve typed because you couldn’t put your thoughts into words.

He knocked again, quickly this time. “I know you’re there, beautiful.” His voice was muffled through the glass.

You huffed and put your laptop on the bed before stomping to the window. You opened it and were met by the hero grinning at you. You, on the other hand, didn’t have a pleased look on your face.

“I’m not in the mood Chat.” You state and were about to close the window again but he held it to stop you from closing it.

“Ma Belle, did I do something wrong?” He asks, a frown on his face.

You shake your head. “No, I just have this stupid essay that I’ve been trying to type out for the past four hours.” You sigh and make your way back to your bed, rubbing your temples.

He follows you inside and closes the window behind him.

“Maybe I can ease your stress for a little bit.” He says, a smirk on his face.

You simply shoot him a glare and he chuckles nervously, putting his hands up in defense.

“Okay. No sex. Got it.” He sits beside you and looks at what you’re typing.

“You know you can leave right? If you’re horny you can go to your other side bitches.” You say as you type away, your eyes glued onto your screen.

Chat purses his lips, like he held himself back from saying something and shook his head.

“Maybe I came here for some company.” He says.

You snort and chuckle. “Yeah right.” You say sarcastically and look at him, but he wasn’t smiling. You gulp and your smile fades away. Did he seriously come over because he feels lonely?

His face was leaning closer to your and you were leaning closer too. No. You had to finish this stupid essay.

“Stop distracting me kitty.” You whisper and kiss his nose quickly before looking back at the screen.

He groans and falls back on the bed, playing with the pillow.

“I can help you if you’re writing about Shakespear, I wro-“ He stops himself from talking and you turn around, quirking your eyebrow at him.

“You wrote an essay like this?” you questioned.

He visibly gulps and shakes his head.

“Do you go to college?” You question further.

He chuckles nervously. “You know I can’t tell you that mon ange.”

You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your screen. You decided not to pry further, he seemed uncomfortable talking about his personal life and you decided to respect his wishes.

Your phone started to ring and you see that it’s your friend from college Marinette. You pick it up.

“Hey Mari.” You say as you type.

“The deadline has been changed to next week!” She exclaims happily.

You were filled with rage.

“what?” You deadpanned.

“Yeah apparently some students asked to change it because they were having difficulties so he changed it to next week instead of tomorrow morning.”

“I literally asked him to extend the deadline three days ago and he refused. I swear to god I want to kill this son of a bitch” You groan and clutch your fist in anger.

She sighs, “I know girl, but hey at least you’ve got more time on your hands!”

Marinette always tried to be positive when she could and you appreciated that but honestly you needed to vent. “Yeah, thanks for letting me know Mari.”

“No problem! Bonne nuit.”

“Bonne nuit.” You sigh out before you end the call.

You groan out in frustration and shut your laptop.

“What happened?” Chat asks.

You get out of your bed and start to pace around.

“I have been working on this essay for the past four days, knowing very well how stupid it was that the deadline was only five days for a two thousand word essay on fucking Shakespeare and when I ask to extend the deadline, the son of a bitch replies with an angry email saying theres enough time and that im just lazy.” You finally breathe and chat was about to say something but you cut him off.

“But when his privileged French pupil ask him to extend the deadline of course he agrees and you know what, I think it was Adrien fucking Agreste who asked him because hes the fucking pretty model boy who has everybody on their knees for him just because of his high status.” You sit down and without realising you start talking about a different subject.

“Yeah, I get it, everybody wants to fuck the pretty blond guy with money, I would too but at least I don’t look like a thirsty bitch every time he talks to me, some girls in my damn college have literally no chill and I swear to god one day I want to make him my bitch, make him weak for me to show those bitches what i’m capable of.” You were breathing heavily at this point and your face was flushed red.

You always thought Adrien was attractive, everyone did but whenever he talked to you, you responded normally to him unlike other people who constantly laughed at everything he said to try and get in his pants. He was a good guy but he was too well known for his own good and it made you uninterested in him. You thought he was out of your league, that’s what those french bitches told you at least. They belittled you just because you’re foreign - you knew they were just jealous that Adrien was always the one to come up to talk to you unlike them.

That was enough ranting for now. You look at Chat who was staring at you wide eyed, his cheeks glowing red.

“You don’t need to say anything, it’s just-“ You look down at his body and notice something. “Chat..why are you hard?”

He crosses his legs over the other awkwardly to try and hide it. “W-What are you talking about?”

You stand up and walk over to him and he walks back until he’s pressed against the wall.

“What? You get hard thinking about me making someone weak?” You whisper to him and he looks away from you. “You want me to do the same to you kitty?” You kiss his ear and he shudders, nodding slowly. Your hand moves down from his chest to his belly and your lips move from his ear to his jaw. Chat tilts his head back and a frenzy of purrs emerge from his parted lips. He was aroused, in a state of euphoria even with your small, light touches. Your hand moved lower until it reached down to the tent he had in his suit. It was painfully tight for him. Your fingertips lightly brushed over the bulge and he cussed under his breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered while you continued to touch his clothed erection and lick up his neck. He kept purring and moaning at the same time. You loved seeing him worked up like this. Your lips latched on to a certain spot on his neck and you sucked on it harshly, nibbling at it when you got the chance and putting more pressure with your hand against him.

He was a mess, grinding against your hand and breathing heavily.

“Ma Belle – merde,” he couldn’t even speak without stuttering. “I want more, please.” He begs and you look up at him, noticing the red mark on his neck and feeling very pleased with yourself.

“More what, kitty?” You whisper and remove your hand from where it was.

He groans in frustration.

“More – I-I want you to touch me more.” He pleads. “Please.”

You smirk at him and pull him to your bed, pushing him back on the bed and getting on his lap. Before he could react you put your lips on his and start to grind on top of him.

He moans against your lips and throws his head back, holding onto your hips for support. You could tell that he wanted to take his clothes off but you wanted him to come right then and there.

Your hips move against his, the friction pleasing you the same, causing you to moan but grin at the worked up blond beneath you.

“Shit, shit I’m close.” He whimpers and closes his eyes, moving his own hips with yours to get more pleasure.

It felt so good but you knew you couldn’t finish with him, maybe you could continue after but your hopes disappeared when you heard the beeping coming from his ring.

“Mon Ange I-“

“Shut up and come for me kitty.” You groan out and quicken your movements causing him to part his lips and hold onto you.

His body shakes and he spews out cuss words in French while he comes undone, thrusting his hips up and whimpering.

You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other both dazed and tired. You were about to lean in for another kiss but his ring starts beeping furiously.

You hop off of his lap and watch as he groans while he gets up, uncomfortably moving because of the mess he made between his legs.

“I’m sorry I cant finish you off.” He says, pouting at you.

“It’s okay Chat, I think you’ve done enough today.” You wink at him and he chuckles bashfully.

“Until next time Mon ange!” He says and opens the window.

“Bye Kitty.�� You blow him a kiss and with that he’s off.

Maybe you could actually finish yourself off to the thought of him being a mess for you but before you could even do anything, your phone beeps and you see a notification from Adrien Agreste.

 “Did you hear that they moved the deadline for the Shakespeare essay? Pissed me off tbh.”

It was like he knew you accused him of something and to top it all off this was the first time he’s ever really texted you. It was weird but maybe you shouldn’t think much of it. Right?

[seijorhi]

If you have the time and feel like it, I'd love to read anything from you about Shigaraki/Reader. (Or maybe Shinsou??)The first thing that came to my mind was something involving chikan but anything that you can come up with is totally good with me as well!!!! Love your writing!!!

This is like months late I am so sorry, bby!! But I hope it’s okay? 🥺

Shigaraki Tomura x Female Reader

TW chikan, non-con, nsfw

Dirty

Staring isn’t a crime. 

It’s the mantra you kept repeating to yourself as more and more passengers slowly filed in. There is nothing wrong. You’re being paranoid.

Staring isn’t a crime, but you’d feel a whole hell of a lot more comfortable if the pair of red eyes boring into you from across the train carriage weren’t accompanied by a creepy, wide grin.

You tell yourself that you’re imagining things, that you’ve read one too many shoujo mangas, because the silvery haired stranger in his ratty oversized hoodie just happens to be facing your general direction, so of course it feels like he’s staring. It doesn’t stop you from trying to tug down the hem of your skirt.

Except when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and you decide to bite the bullet and scamper across to the other side of the carriage under the guise of getting off, the stranger follows. 

He’s only staring. You’ve heard about men who like to scare girls on public transport, how they… get off on it. But the stranger seems content just to watch. There’s a Nintendo switch sticking out of his hoodie pocket, but in the fifteen minutes you’ve been riding together, he hasn’t made a move to touch it - while everybody else on the carriage is either sleeping, reading or absorbed in their phones, the stranger’s attention is fixed entirely on you.

He’s enjoying it, you think - your discomfort. The way you shift and try to subtly curl in on yourself, hiding behind other passengers, how your eyes keep darting up to see if he’s still watching (he is) before shifting your attention back to the phone in your hands. Should you text somebody? Your best friend, maybe? And say what exactly, ‘help, there’s a creepy looking guy staring at me on the train, please come get me?’

There were at least twenty other people on the carriage with you, and not one of them has noticed the silver haired man staring at you - or if they have, they’ve promptly dismissed it as nothing to concern themselves with. You’re working yourself up over nothing - he’s only doing it trying to get a reaction out of you.  

You don’t want to cause a fuss over nothing.

Breathing deeply, you decide to simply not give him the satisfaction, turning your back on him to face out the window by the doors instead. You still have another twenty minutes left of the ride until you reach your stop, with any luck he’ll lose interest soon enough.

At the next station, the doors slide open and a swarm of commuters flood into the carriage. You’re bumped and brushed past, jostled about as more and more passengers try to fit onboard - it’s uncomfortable, but for once you find yourself grateful for the teeming crowds. With enough people squished between you and the pale, hoodie-clad stranger, you comfort yourself with the knowledge that he’s probably lost sight of you (or at least the parts of you he’s interested in leering at) and allow yourself to breathe and just relax-

Until a sudden jolt of the carriage sends you reeling into the chest of the commuter behind you. 

On instinct you turn your head to glance over your shoulder, apologies ready on the tip of your tongue,  only for them to turn to ash in your mouth as you meet bloodshot vermillion eyes and a wide, unsettling grin.

“Whoops,” he chuckles, the sound dry and rasping, like nails raking down a chalkboard. “Better be careful, now. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.”

Your breath catches and you still, but there’s no room for you to move as pale, spindly fingers creep across your waist, sliding down the pleated fabric of your skirt. A tiny whimper, lost almost immediately to the droning hum of the carriage as it jolts along the tracks, escapes as rough fingertips graze the top of your thigh, dragging your skirt upwards in search of another prize. You feel the chest pressed against your back rumble with another laugh, dry, chapped, lips dragging possessively against the curve of your neck, and a deep, shuddering inhale.

(Is he sniffing your hair?!)

“You might wanna hold onto something, princess,” the stranger jeers. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, a deep, unsettling pit growing in your stomach. This isn’t staring - this isn’t harmless anymore.

He’s got you caged between his body and the doors, one arm shot out over your shoulder to brace himself, the other creeping up towards your panties with agonising slowness. There’s nowhere to go, but for the life of you, you don’t know why you can’t seem to make a sound. Your legs are quaking, heart thumping unsteadily as long digits probe at your panty covered sex, dragging teasingly against the outline of your slit. All it would take is a shout, a yell, and somebody would intervene - packed train or not - but despite the icy fear seeping into your veins, the rising panic as your pretty lace panties are yanked to the side, your cries are caught in your throat.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation as long digits roughly slither between your plush pussy lips. You’re not wet - how could you be? - but that doesn’t seem to bother the man violating you, not as those same fingers greedily tease at your hole for a split second before they plunge inside of you, his thumb rubbing at your crude circles around your clit like it’s a joystick. You wonder if anyone has noticed the hitch in your breath, the soft, whimpering whine that you can’t quite hold back as he fucks you on his fingers, stretching you out. Facing out the window, there’s nobody to see the tears that spill down your cheeks, the way your features contorts in pain - and something else - as his fingertips press and drag along your warm, tight cunny walls.

There’s no rhythm or technique as he roughly mashes his palm against your sex, but suddenly it’s not so much an effort to speak out as it is to smother your own noises - the thought of somebody catching you like this, seeing him finger fuck you in on a crowded, public train in the middle of the day making you want to curl up and disappear entirely.

His fingers are stuffed deep inside of your pussy, fucking you in earnest, it doesn’t matter if you were willing or not, you let him get this far without so much as a peep. Who’s going to believe that you didn’t want this, weren’t silently begging for it - that with every flick of his wrist this stranger is raping you in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded train?

You bite down on your bottom lip, hands clenching into pathetic fists at your side as the man behind you moans and grunts in your ear. There’s something hard and warm pressed against your ass - it takes you a moment to realise that it’s his cock, and his hips are rutting eagerly against your backside. 

His panting breath tickles at your neck, “Gettin’ all nice ‘n wet, such a good little slut. You -hah- you enjoying this, princess?”

Revulsion rises like a wave, crashing through you, but you can’t deny the building slick you feel easing his passage - your cunt is all but drooling around his fingers. You can’t bear to look around to see if any of the other passengers have noticed, if they can hear the lewd sounds of him fingering you like a man possessed.

Your forehead falls against the cool, glass window, your eyes squeezing shut as more tears fall. It doesn’t make a difference, you can’t disappear into your mind and pretend that this isn’t happening, he’s making sure of it. His hips are grinding faster against the swell of your ass, his fingers picking up their pace in response. It’s like he wants you to cum with him, and when a third finger slips inside of you, crooks and slams against that sweet spot that has you gasping, you know that it’s not far off. 

“Tomura,” he pants desperately into your ear as he ruts up against you like a beast in heat, “Fuck! My n-name is Tomura.”

You don’t know why he’s telling you. Does he think you’ll cry it out as his thumb swipes messily at your clit and your tight cunny walls unwittingly squeeze down on his fingers? Or does he just want you to know the name of the stranger about to make you cum in a train full of strangers.

You don’t have time to ponder the question, not as his teeth sink into the tender skin of your neck to muffle his growls and his fingers speed up, that tight coil of heat in your core pulling taut and snapping as unwanted pleasure explodes like fireworks, overwhelming your system as you convulse and shudder around him. 

Your vision goes white, a strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a moan leaves your lips.

Tomura snarls, riding out his own orgasm, warm cum spurting into his jeans as he all but collapses against you. For a moment, you two stay like that, his sweaty, larger frame draped over yours, his chest heaving, hand still caught up beneath your skirt.

In the wake of your climax, shame and humiliation rear their ugly heads. You came, you enjoyed it, your own violation. No amount of reassurance that it’s just your body's natural reaction to stimuli can stop the rising disgust that surges through you so violently it threatens to choke you. You feel dirty - filthy and used - especially with Tomura’s face nuzzled in your neck, his tongue laving at your flushed skin, the blood welling from his overzealous bite.

His hand slides out of your underwear, using your skirt to wipe off the syrupy wetness that clings to his digits. You stomach churns in response as the train pulls up alongside the station platform, passengers once again jostling as they prepare to disembark. Even now you can’t force yourself to move, can’t shove him away like you so desperately want to.

You’re pathetic. 

He sighs contentedly, chapped lips curling into a smirk as the voice over the p.a announces the incoming stop. If Tomura notices the tears that wet your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, he doesn't pass comment, choosing instead to press a sickeningly sweet kiss to your temple as the train slows down to a halt.

“That was real fun, Y/N,” he coos gleefully. “We should do it again some time.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of exiting passengers, and your trembling legs finally give out.

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

[babymetaldoll]

Danger Days - Chapter eight: "You don't own me"

Word count: 8,6K

Summary:  Joey is back and finally reunited with Matthew. Gubler is, by the way, crazy jealous about Mikey.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, penetrative sex, cursing, jealousy.

A/N: Is Matthew right to be so jealous? ... I'm guessing the answer is yes.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

-

::: November 6th, 2010:::

The show was over, sweat dripping down Gerard’s face. He could still listen to the crowd yelling as he walked out of the stage and over the dressing room. He was tired, it was the last date of the leg of the tour, and he felt ready for a good break from being on the road.

Frank grabbed a bottle of water and drank almost half of it. Joey looked at him with a funny stare.

- “Shit! You were fucking dehydrated!”

- “And you failed in your crusade to keep me moisturized”- the drummer burst out laughing and hugged him friendly

- “I can’t believe you remember that!!”

- “You never forget a girl who promised to moisturize you”- the guitarist kissed her cheek, both of them were pretty sweated, but neither of them seemed to care.

- “Fuck Jersey, I’m gonna miss you. I’m not gonna listen to your weird, kinky jokes in a whole month.”

- “Bug, you are so gonna get my calls, so many calls!!”- Joey laughed and let him go.

She was honestly gonna miss him. Though she had managed to stop flirting and staring at him like she knew she had done, their friendship continued to grow, and they were closer than ever. Gerard hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it.

- "Come on!"- Ray argued, overhearing the conversation- "It’s just one month! And you better enjoy it, ‘cos starting February, you are not getting rid of us."

- "And you are not getting rid of me these days either"- Mikey quickly added, and Joey stuck her tongue out to him.

- "That I already knew, bróðir!"

- "It was a good show"- Gerard said out of the blue, and everybody looked at him.

- "Yeah"- they all answered and sat for a while. Ray took off his shirt and looked for a clean one in his bag. Joey quickly ran over and tapped on his pectorals.

- "I’ve seen these a hundred times already, and I still can’t get over the fact you’ve got better tits than I do!"- Ray burst out laughing as Gerard turned around not to see that scene.

In the latest days, he had had to swallow all his jealousy in a slightly successful attempt to stay a little further away from Joey. But staring at her being so close and friendly with everybody was making shit harder for Way. It was a good thing they had a month’s break. Maybe that would help to cool off his head from that crush.

- "So, dinner?"- Frank asked as he took off his shirt too to change into a dry one.

- "First a shower, then dinner and then… to the airport?"- Joey looked at her wristwatch- "Why are we flying at three in the morning?"

- "‘Cos it was the only flight available"- Ray quickly answered and cut the girl a smile- "But it gives us time to shower, eat dinner and get chocolates in the duty-free."

- "You had me at “shower,” then you said chocolates, and you made it perfect"- she answered and grabbed a shirt from her bag. It was the same every time. Gerard would get all excited about the possibility of her taking off her shirt right there with them, but she would always lock in the bathroom for a quick change.

- "Bummer!!"- Frank yelled as soon as Joey closed the bathroom door behind her back- "One day, we are gonna get a shitty venue without a bathroom or whatever, and you are gonna have to show us your bra!!"

- "Never!!"- Joey yelled, laughing from the bathroom. Frank laughed too and sighed. He made it sound like a joke, but he was dead serious about it. He still had a crush on the girl, though he had managed to keep it under control.

Dinner was nice. The band ate at the hotel and left for the airport. Gerard was excited to think maybe if he had a seat with Joey again, but no, he didn’t. Instead, she was alone with a stranger the whole flight to Munich. She didn’t really mind though, she would enjoy the little time alone she got after being most of her time locked in a bus with the band. It was fun, but it could get to be a little too much. And though she wasn’t really a woman with many female friends, she needed a more women-friendly environment for a while. Maybe not having Mikey farting most of the day was going to be nice. Or Frank burping. Or Gerard staring at her. Shit, Gerard staring at her was the worst, ‘cos it made her feel awkward. She needed to get away from him for a while.

The flight from Munich to New York was too long to be true. Luckily, the whole band was too tired to be awake most of the time. They got into the plane and fell asleep right away. Frank looked at Ray sitting next to him and punched his shoulder, forcing him to take out his headphones, pause his movie, and looked at his friend.

- "What?"

- "What are you doing?"- Iero asked and grinned.

- "Fuck you, Frank"- and the boy just laughed.

- "I wanted to know if Christa is picking you up or if you need a ride home. Jamia is coming with the girls to the airport."

- "Thanks, but Christa is coming for me, and my plan is to stay awake to get this jetlag straight."

- "Yeah"- Frank smiled and elbowed his friend- "Sure thing, the jetlag... "- Ray blushed and smacked his friend’s head.

- "I don’t appreciate you talking about me and my wife private life."

- "I didn’t say a thing."

- "Shut up!"- Joey and Mikey said at the same time, sitting right behind the other guys.

- "Stop speaking at the same time. It’s disturbing"- Frank agued and turned around to look at them.

- "Be glad you only have a half-hour left with us then"- Mikey quickly answered and wrapped an arm around Joey’s neck.

- "I’m so sorry for Gerard. He is stuck with you for another six hours."

- "He has been stuck with me his whole life. He is going to have to bear with it"- Mikey said, chuckling.

Needless to say, Gerard didn’t really have a problem with being with Joey for another couple of hours.

The goodbye was slightly sad. And a little awkward. Frank and Ray insisted on introducing Joey to their wives. And considering they had a whole hour to kill before boarding their next flight, the drummer agreed.

It was so weird meeting Jamia, but it also helped her kill the little crush she had on Frank.

Jamia was gorgeous, and the babies - Cherry and Lily- were the cutest. Frank changed completely as soon as he was with them. He turned into a dad and stopped being the annoying teenager Joey had spent two weeks with.

- "It’s so great to finally meet you"- Jamia said as she shook the drummer’s hand with a huge smile.

- "Me too! Frank has talked so much about you I feel like I’ve known you for years now"- which was totally the truth. In the last days, Frank had gotten so excited to go home, he wouldn’t stop talking about his life in Jersey.

- "I am so sorry"- Jamia said as they all sat down in a Starbuck.

- "What for?"

- "Anything my husband has done to make you uncomfortable, like farting, and burping, and being gross"- Joey burst out laughing and turned to her friend.

- "Jersey, your wife is an angel. She is a keeper"- and the guitarist smiled, proud.

- "I know, I don’t know how she can bear with me."

- "Probably ‘cos she had your babies"- Joey grinned, and Frank stuck out her tongue to her. Gerard and Mikey sipped their coffee in silence- "Too bad dad had to go so quickly. I wanted to meet Christa better."

- "You’ll have another chance, Bug"- Mikey smiled at her and sighed. He didn’t really want to go back home. It meant facing the inevitable: his divorce.

Joey and Jamia chatted for a long while. Mrs. Iero needed to know what she was dealing with. And mostly if she was going to get a chance to meet Matthew. By the end of their coffee, Jamia felt much more calmed to know the drummer, and Joey felt so much better to feel Mrs. Iero didn’t hate her. It really scared her to think any of the wives of her colleagues could think something wrong about her, except for Lynz. She didn’t scare her… it panicked her. If she only knew what she wanted to do to her husband.

Frank hugged Joey tight, keeping a safe emotional distance thanks to the proximity of his wife and his real-life in Jersey. He also hugged Mikey and Gerard and promised to call soon. Then, the Way brothers and Joey walked to the domestic terminal and looked for their gate. They got there just when they had started boarding.

- "Seems like we are all sitting together"- Gerard said, taking a look at their boarding passes.

- "Awww, my last six hours with you"- Joey quickly answered and smiled.

- "Stop saying that. You really aren’t getting rid of me these days"- the youngest Way said with a funny smile.

- "Next week I’m flying to Seattle for a few days, you are gonna have to learn to live without me, Mikey Way"- Joey quickly answered and kept walking with him to the gate.

- "Damn it! What am I supposed to do those days?"

- "Go torture Gerard for a change"- she replied and looked at Gee, who was staring back at her. But instead of saying anything about his brother, the singer asked.

- "Are you going to see your parents?"

- "Yes! Mom is forcing me to go and pretty much making me feel guilty for “abandon them” for my job."

- "Wow, that sounds harsh"- Mikey raised an eyebrow- "Can I go with you?"

- "No, Mikey. Matthew is coming along, and he is actually going to meet my parents, which is a huge deal for me."

- "Why?"

- "My parents have never met one of my boyfriends"- Joey confessed and passed her boarding pass to the crew by the gate of their flight.

- "Never?"- Gerard was surprised- "Why?"

-"I’ve never had a serious boyfriend."

- "Again, never?"- Gerard was surprised, and so was Mikey.

- "Yeah. I’m not really a people person, and I don’t usually date a lot, so… that’s it"- Joey cut them a fake smile and started walking to the plane, followed by her friends.

- "I can’t believe you are not a people person. That’s really bullshit"- Mikey argued but met Joey’s serious face.

- "I am, and that’s it."

By the tone of her voice, the two guys knew she wasn’t joking about it. So neither of them kept asking questions and remained quiet until they all sat down. The girl was sitting in the middle of the two guys, which made the three of them very happy. At least she knew she could talk to Gerard not feeling awkward ‘cos Mikey was right there to join the conversation too. Well, that if she made it to speak to Gerard, considering they both had been ignoring each other basically the whole week.

But it was a good flight. The three of them kept sleeping most of the time, watched a movie. Joey kept reading her book, Gerard borrowed it for a while, and Mikey kept reading the comics he had gotten in the airport. A typical trip for the three of them.

Matthew was waiting for Joey outside her gate. And as soon as she saw him, she ran to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him and feeling his hands holding her tight.

- "Akumu"- she managed to whisper, rubbing her lips against him, refusing to stop the kiss.

- "My Yami"- he said and smiled, to keep on kissing her- "I missed you so much!"

- "I missed you more."

- "Please, never leave again."

- "I’m here now, and I love you so."

- "I love you so much."

Joey couldn’t stop kissing her boyfriend, and he refused to let her go, though people kept staring at them. One of which was Gerard Way.

- "Come on, kids! get a room"- Mikey said and tapped on Matthew’s back- "And be respectful of my sister in public places. Come on! she is a lady!"

- "Go away, bróðir"- Joey managed to say, still rubbing her lips against Matthew’s

- "You little rebel, hey man"- all the interruption forced the couple to stop their lovely reunion.

- "Hey"- Matthew shook Mikey’s and Gerard’s hands. The youngest Way smiled friendly, but his older brother couldn’t even fake it. He really hated Gubler.

- "Hello"- was the only thing he managed to say.

- "How was your trip?"- Gubler asked and smiled at the guys, now wrapping an arm around Joey and kissing her temple several times.

Gerard hated Matthew more and more with every second that passed. The singer had only managed to kiss her once on the forehead. This guy could kiss her whole body and probably have already. And most probably, he was going to do it again in the following hours. The whole idea made him jealous as hell.

- "Wait, how did you get here?"- Joey asked him and looked around- "You are not boarding a plane now, are you?"

- "No, Yami. I just… managed to ask for permission to get here for you and only for you"- Gerard wanted to smash Gubler’s head against the nearest wall. Joey pouted and kissed her boyfriend for what seemed to be a thousand times.

- "I love you"- she whispered and smiled.

- "Somebody’s gonna get laid!!"- Mikey joked as the couple kept on making out- "Ok, ok, come on, let’s go get our bags so you little love birds can… stop doing this in front of me!"

Mikey said and started walking. Gerard couldn’t agree with his brother more.

Lynz greeted her husband at the front door with the biggest kiss and the warmest hug. He kissed her back and smiled, feeling home. It felt good to have her in his arms. To have someone he loved wrapping her arms around him for a change. It had been too long since he felt that. And he didn’t want to let her go.

Mikey walked into an empty house. Alicia had taken pretty much everything. His house was filled with eco and desolation. Tears started falling down his cheeks. Tears soon became a waterfall. He sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall, howling. He hadn’t cried like that in years.

He took a look around at the empty walls. The empty room. His empty life, and realized how lonely he felt. He could fill the time on tour with his friends, with booze, with the shows. But in real life, on his daily basis, Mikey Way was ultimately and unquestionably alone. And that day, there was nothing he could do about it to face it.

Matthew could barely open the door as he refused to stop kissing his girlfriend. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and her lips traveled from his mouth to his neck nonstop.

- "Yami... the..."

- "Fuck me right here against the door, I don’t care"- she whispered, and he groaned.

- "Don’t test me!"

The actor somehow managed to open the door, kicked the bags inside, and found the nearest couch.

- "I missed you so fucking much"- she whispered and pulled up his shirt.

- "Me most! And I needed to fuck you so badly. I hadn’t jerked off this much since I was in high school."

- "Then fuck me, Matthew Gray."

- "My plan exactly."

Joey didn’t care about the jetlag; she didn’t care about how tired she felt. She just wanted to feel her boyfriend inside of her as fast as possible 'cos fuck, she had missed him. And seeing him on top of her half-naked already made her feel as ready as she could be.

His lips played on her skin, making her shiver, as he licked and nibbled every inch of her that was possible. Joey’s hands kept moving on his skin as her eyes kept staring at him on top of her. It seemed he was hungry for her, and she wanted to be devoured.

- "Yami"- he whispered and kissed her neck as he finished taking all of her clothing off- "How much did you miss me?"

- "So much"- she moaned as his hardon rubbed her clit.

- "Show me how much you missed me"- she blushed as the two of them stayed still for a second, staring at each other. Joey slowly opened her legs and let Matthew in. Both of them groaned at the very same time as he filled her up completely.

- "Shit"- Joey bit his arm and scratched her nails on his skin.

- "So tight..."- he managed to say as he started thrusting slowly.

- "Just for you"- the girl sighed and kissed his neck

- "You feel so good, Yami."

Joey’s legs were wrapped firmly around his torso as his hand grabbed on hers, intertwining their fingers against one of the cushions of the couch. Their lips were sealed together, only parting for air every once in a while. And when they did, their eyes crushed, staring in complete silence, just moaning, just kissing, just enjoying the fact they were finally together again.

And they had never wanted each other more. It was sweet. It was passionate. It was love.

- "Please, make me cum"- Joey whispered and watched him smile.

- "Your wishes are my commands"- with those words, Matthew fastened his peace and looked at her. He propped up on his elbows, thrusting into her and hitting her g-spot with every single stroke. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t stop staring at her with her eyes closed, whimpering and whispering his name.

- "You look so hot"- Gubler murmured, but she wasn’t able to answer. Instead, her moaning increased and turned into a yell filled with pleasure as she came, which was surely heard by the whole building.

- "Matthew..."- she managed to say as she caught her breath for a second.

- "I’m gonna... "- he whimpered against the skin he bit raw. His thrusts turned messier as he started losing into her, releasing himself and groaning deep into her shoulder as she kept her arms and legs around him.

- "Sorry"- he whispered and chuckled- "That was too fast."

- "I don’t care, we have time to do it again"- she answered and kissed him with a big smile.

- "I just missed you so fucking much."

- "I know, I missed you too... wanna shower with me?"

- "I wanna do everything with you"- she smiled and felt his lips on hers for a sweet kiss. She loved him. She didn’t want to forget that.

::: November 18th, 2010 :::

Matthew frowned as he walked into Joey’s apartment and saw Mikey sitting on the floor, holding a joystick. During the whole time he had dated Joey, Gubler had never met one of her friends. She didn’t have many- or any actually- and he knew it. They mainly were work buddies, or like Tucker, they lived far away. The drummer really hadn’t made friends in Los Angeles. That’s why it was so weird for him to see Mikey Way at her house now pretty much every day. Or that’s how it felt.

- "Hey Gub! Nice to see you again"- the bassist said and smiled, returning his eyes to the screen and pausing the game one second later- "Joey is getting ready for your date."

- "Hey, great… how are you?"

- "Awesome, we literally smashed Assassins Creed today"- Mikey smiled and pointed at the Playstation.

- "Sounds fun."

- "I’m ready, Akumu"- Matthew smiled and looked at Joey walking out of her room.

- "Wow"- he whispered and wide opened his eyes- "You look amazing!"

- "Thank you"- the drummer’s cheeks blushed as her boyfriend walked over and landed his hands on her hips, moving her closer to her body and rubbing his lips against hers for a moment before saying

- "Are you sure you wanna go out? We could stay here and take that dress off slowly"- and she giggled nervously at his insinuations.

- "If we go out and you look at me in the dress for a long while, you might want to take it off even more eagerly, and it might feel even better when you do it"- she murmured, looking straight into his eyes and kissed his lips.

- "Let me see you"- Mikey said and walked over, ruining the sexy moment- "Damn! You never ever dressed like that when we were on the road"- Mikey said and looked at her up and down, something that bothered Matthew very much.

Gubler was a jealous boyfriend, and Joey didn’t like that, so he always hid it. But most of the time, when a guy was too close to her, it honestly bothered him. Needless to say, the fact she was working with a band and a crew of only men, her being the only woman, hunted him day and night. But he made his best and didn’t say a thing ‘cos he wanted to support her no matter what. But Mikey was making things hard for him.

- "Stop it, bróðir!!"- she punched his arm and smiled- "What are you doing tonight?"

- "I guess I’ll stop by Gerard’s and annoy the fuck out of him."

- "Sounds like fun, say hi from me"- Joey grabbed her bag and jacket- "See you tomorrow?"

- "Yeah! I need you to come with me to Fender"- Way announced.

- "Why?"

- "They are working on a custom mustang bass for me. I designed it, and we are going to check it out."

- "Wow!"- Matthew said, surprised- "Dude, that’s great!"- but Mikey just shrugged. He was so depressed he really didn’t care.

- "I guess… anyway, I have to be there at noon."

- "On a Saturday?"- Joey frowned.

- "Yeah… I told them I couldn’t do it any other day."

- "Aren’t you being a little bitch with people just ‘cos you can?"- Joey teased him, and he smiled

- "I actually couldn’t"- Joey raised an eye and turned to her boyfriend.

- "Shall we? Mikey, lock the door when you leave"- they high-fived, and the couple left.

- "Wait… did you give him a spare key?"- Matthew asked, frowning as he realized what his girlfriend had just said.

- "Yeah, why?"- Joey didn’t seem to notice her boyfriend was serious about it.

- "‘Cos you met him last month."

- "And I’ve lived half of that time with him. I think I can trust him. He is my friend"- Joey made lights off of the whole deal, but Matthew was honestly mad.

- "I don’t like this"- he simply said and started the car.

- "Why?"

- "‘Cos I feel he is taking all of your free time."

- "That’s not true! I spend 99% of my time with you! I even go to the set with you! And I spend most nights at your house! So what is wrong with me also spending some time with my friend? Who is, by the way, the only friend I’ve got here in L.A?"

- "But... "- Matthew didn’t seem to find an argument to win that battle, or at least that could make sense to Joey.

- "But what? You don’t want me to hang out with other people?"

- "It’s not that! I just… find it weird that you work with them and go out with him and…"

- "He is my friend, Matthew!"- Joey sighed and looked straight at the road as her boyfriend kept driving. So much for a date’s mood. Gubler took a deep breath and started talking very slowly to sound calm.

- "I know he is your friend, and that’s not what bothers me…"

- "Then?"- the girl turned to her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow- "Are you jealous of Mikey?"

- "No…"- he hesitated, ashamed and even a little scared of Joey’s reaction.

- "You can’t be jealous of Mikey. He just lost his marriage. I am his friend, and he is fucking alone."

- "He has his brother and probably other friends"- Joey made a pause before answering because she felt bad talking about Gerard in front of Gubler.

- "Yeah, but he has his marriage, and I think his wife is best friends with Mikey’s ex… if Mikey didn’t want to tell him, do you think he wants to share his darkest moment with him?"

- "No, but why you?"

- "So you think he has a crush on me! What are you? Fifteen?"

- "No! That’s not what I meant!"

- "Then?"

- "I don’t know!! We’ve never been through this before! I just find it weird!"

- "So you are jealous"

- "Yes! Of course, I am!"- Matthew finally exploded- "But I trust you, so I know nothing bad will happen!"

Joey didn’t answer. She just started outside the window and counted to ten.

- "Yami?"

- "I trust you too, Akumu. And believe me, nothing is gonna happen between Mikey and me"- she whispered and felt her cheeks burning- "But please, don’t get jealous of him. He is the closest thing I’ve ever have of a brother in my entire life, and I love him very much."

The girl made her best to be calmed, she didn’t want to ruin the moment, and she made her best to understand what her boyfriend was going through. Though she hated to face that he was jealous, she could get how her boyfriend felt. It would be too cynical to tell him he had no one to be jealous of because he had no idea how she felt about Gerard. But that was completely platonic and not a threat at all.

- "So… are we ok?"- Matthew asked with a soft tone of voice and held his girlfriend’s hand.

- "We are ok, Akumu"- Joey answered and cut him a warm smile- "Are you ok with me going to Fender tomorrow with Mikey?"

- "Yes..."- he answered without hesitations.

- "Awesome ‘cos I was going to do it anyway."

Mikey lit a cigarette and looked up to the stars in the sky. He was sitting in his older brother’s backyard, drinking a beer, and basically just being there, trying not to think. Gerard was smoking next to him in silence, drawing something to kill time and sipping a diet coke from time to time.

- "So how was your day?"- he finally asked his younger brother.

- "It was good. I was with Joey the whole day"- and Gerard nearly chook- "We played video games, ordered pizza, and basically just did my favorite thing, nothing."

- "How is she?"

- "Great, she had a date night today; otherwise, I would have stayed for a slumber party with her and Gubler."

- "With him too?"

- "Yeah, he is a nice guy. He is obviously jealous as fuck, but Joey doesn’t seem to care, and neither do I actually"- Gerard chuckled

- "So he is jealous of all of us or just you?"

- "Just me… I guess it’s because we hang out a lot."

- "You do? Really?"

- "Almost every time she is not with him. We are going out tomorrow."

- "Where are you going to?"- and that was really something that caught Gerard’s attention

- "To Fender to check how’s my bass going. Wanna come along?"- the temptation was too big for Gerard to avoid.

- "Yeah, it sounds fun"- and he made his best to sound as casual as possible.

- "Great…"- Mikey took a long drag of his cigarette and stayed quiet again. Lynz walked over and cut them a short smile. Gerard’s little brother nodded but didn’t say anything.

- "I’m going out, guys,"- she announced and looked at his husband- "I’m gonna hang out with the girls"- and the girls included Mikey’s ex-wife. Everybody knew they were best friends.

- "Have fun, honey"- Gerard kissed her and smiled. Mikey waved and sighed- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah"- he quickly answered and finished his beer- "I’m gonna take a piss."

Mikey locked himself in the bathroom and burst out crying. He was a wreck, and he didn’t want to show it, not to his brother. He didn’t need his pity. That’s why he hadn’t hung out with him so much those days. That’s why he was stuck at Joey most of her free time.

Alicia had destroyed him. Each time they talked, he ended up even more broken-hearted, more miserable. More alone. Joey had insisted on taking him to see her therapist, but he kept refusing. Instead, he had beer, or vodka, or whatever there was around. And cigarettes and the tv to numb his brain.

- "Are you excited to meet my parents?"- Joey asked Matthew as they sat in front of each other, smiling. He had taken her to her favorite Thai restaurant for dinner, and she was in heaven.

- "Scared maybe"- he whispered and blushed.

- "Why?"

- "I can’t stop thinking your dad is gonna be this tall, brawny Icelandic guy that’s gonna break every bone in my body for dating his daughter"- Joey burst out laughing and nodded.

- "That might be true, but my mom is gonna love you. And she is gonna overfeed you, so tomorrow you should eat light"- Matthew chuckled and held Joey’s hand.

- "I love you so much, Yami"- and she blushed.

- "Akamu, I think I love you more"- they stared at each other for a moment with a goofy smile, until the moment was ruined by her cell phone- "I’m sorry."

The girl whispered and looked at the screen, laughing as Matthew looked at her, not getting what was going on?

- "What is it? What’s so funny?"

- "Frank just sent me a photo. He dressed his kids like pumpkins!! Look! They are so cute!!!"- the girl gave him her phone, and he smiled, faked a smile actually. And it was so obvious, Joey locked her phone and placed it in her pocket.

- "I just… can we have a minute without someone from the band taking your attention from me?"

- "You have my undivided attention! Can you stop being jealous?"

- "Yes… I can! but it’s hard!"- Gubler sighed and calmed himself down ‘cos he knew that was a lost battle.

- "You can take my phone if you want and keep it away"- she said and gave it to him, in one of the toughest decisions she had ever made. That meant Joey was actually doing what her boyfriend wanted her to do. She hated that.

But she loved Matthew and didn’t want to have another argument that night. Matthew took it, turned it off, and placed it in his pocket, enjoying for once a minute of power in that relationship. Joey wasn’t a girl easy to handle. He loved the challenge, but sometimes it felt she was too independent of him. For him.

The sun shining on his face woke Mikey up. And it was hell. Another day, another hungover. He had fallen asleep drunk in his brother’s spare room. Not that he wanted to go home anyway, he didn’t feel like being alone. He quickly rolled in bed and looked at the time. He was late. Groaning, he looked for his phone around the room, found it in his pants, and dialed. Joey’s phone was off.

- "Fuck!"

Joey rolled on her bed and smiled. Matthew was sound and asleep next to her. She cuddled closer to him and kissed his naked skin.

- "This is what I miss the most when you are not home"- he whispered, waking up.

- "The way I wake you up?"

- "No, my arm numbed underneath your neck"- Joey chuckled and moved to free Matthew’s arm- "Thank you."

- "Sorry"

- "Don’t be. I love snuggling with you. You can numb all my limbers"- the girl giggled and kissed her boyfriend’s lips sweetly.

- "All of them?"- Matthew smiled and wrapped both arms around her.

- "Every single one of them… but right now, I have to go to work"- the girl pouted and felt him kissing her lips over and over again.

- "Who schedules a Meet and Greet on a Saturday?"

- "People who work the rest of the week and only have time on Saturday."

- "Touché"- Matthew smiled at her and kissed her lips before getting out of bed- "Meets and greets are weird"- she said and wrapped her body on the sheet as she stared at her boyfriend walking around her room naked, preparing to take a shower- "You literally just meet and greet someone."

- "Yes, that’s why the name"- he answered, chuckling.

- "Sorry, I can’t be smart if you are walking naked in my room"- the girl whispered, blushing. Matthew looked at her and offered his hand.

- "Would you be smarter if you shower with me?"

- "Nop, but I can be totally naughty."

- "That’s my girl…"

Gerard was memorizing every single street as Mikey drove to Joey’s house. He had never been there; his brother seemed to be there always. It bothered him, of course, but today it seemed to be pretty helpful actually. It had been over a week since the last time he saw her, and there was a part of him that missed her deeply. The other part of him felt guilty for missing her so much.

Mikey grabbed his phone and dialed again. Still off. Her phone was never off. What if something bad had happened to her? He dialed again. Nothing. The bassist cursed himself for not having Matthew’s number.

- "Are we close?"- Gerard asked, not looking at his brother, and never noticed he was about to freak out.

- "Yeah"

- "And… does she live with her boyfriend?"

- "No, she has a little one-bedroom apartment, he has… I think an apartment too, but Joey doesn’t want to move in with him yet"- Mikey just said it and didn’t detect his brother’s brightening eyes.

- "Why?"

- "They haven’t dated that long. She feels they aren’t there yet… there it is!"- the youngest Way pointed at an apartment complex- "I don’t see Matthew’s car here, maybe they are at his house."

Gerard frowned at that idea, feeling selfish and stupid. He had sex with his wife that week. Why couldn’t Joey have sex with her boyfriend? Easy: ‘cos Gerard wanted her to be his and only his. But that thought was killing him slowly. He didn’t know how to turn it off.

The Way brothers took the elevator to the fifth floor, walked down the aisle, and knocked on Joey’s door. Neither of them said a thing. Mikey grabbed the keys from his pocket and hesitated. He decided to knock on the door again, in case the girl was with her boyfriend.

- "What’s that?"- Gerard quickly asked, confused- "Do you have a spare key to her house?"

- "Yeah"- he simply answered, not getting his brother’s frowned face- "We exchanged keys in case of an emergency, that’s what friends do"- and Mikey rang the bell again.

- "What’s the rush?!"- the girl opened the door and wide opened her eyes as she first noticed Gerard was there, looking at her. And she was only wearing a robe. Great.

- "I’ve been calling you all day, Bug!"- Mikey hugged her, honestly worried- "I thought something had happened to you!!"

- "Oh, come on! I just… don’t have my cellphone with me"- she whispered and felt her cheeks burning as Gerard looked at her up and down- "Hey"- that was all she could say and smiled at him- "Nice to see you."

- "Nice to see you too."

- "Come in. guys. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. I’m gonna finish getting dressed."

- "And Matthew?"- Mikey asked, already pouring a cup of coffee for him

- "He left five minutes ago. He and the crew have a meet and greet today."

- Awesome! That means I have extra time to annoy you today"- the girl heard her friend’s voice as she walked over to her closet to get dressed.

- "Yes, but I have to come back home early to pack my bags. We are leaving for Seattle tomorrow"- she yelled back and picked her outfit. Meanwhile, Gerard wandered around, checking every little detail of the house that could tell him a little more about her. There was a drum, an electric drum, and… Mikey’s old bass?

- "Why is that here?"- he asked his brother.

- "I left it here the other day. Bug and I were practicing some songs together."

Mikey simply answered and sat on the couch, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the tv. Gerard looked at him, feeling his brother felt really at home. What else could he find? A family picture of her and her parents, some pretty artworks on the walls, and a million Playstation games.

- "Are we too late??"- the girl showed up shoeless, with wet hair and no makeup on. Just like that, Gerard’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t stop staring, and Joey felt his eyes on her the whole time making her blush. Having him at her house was too overwhelming for her. She kept trying to make light off of the fact she was embarrassed and nervous. She hadn’t seen Gerard ever since that day at the airport, and there was a part of her that had tried unsuccessfully to forget how he made her feel. It was clear that Gerard Way’s effect on her was not something you could get rid of in a few days.

- "Yeah, but you still have… fifteen minutes to get ready"- Mikey said and grinned.

- "I can make it in ten"- and so, she disappeared back into her room, to emerge eight minutes later, fully dressed and ready to go.

- "Shit! That was fast!"- Mikey said and smiled- "And you are hot enough to be a trophy wife"- Joey frowned and punched his shoulder.

- "I am a woman, not a thing to show around."

- "I was just joking."

- "You know I hate those jokes"- she made a pause and raised an eyebrow to her friend.

- "Damn! that hurt"- he argued, still rubbing the spot she smacked and stared at his friend- "Come on, you know I was joking."

- "Yes, but part of being your little sister is teaching you not to be an asshole repeating sexist jokes."

- "Fine"- Mikey turned off the tv and looked at his brother, who hadn’t said a thing in a long while- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah… ready?"- Gerard quickly answered and looked down at his shoes, like looking for something he hadn’t actually lost.

- "Yeah, did you turn off the coffee maker?"- the girl looked at Mikey, and he didn’t move- "I’ll do it."

- "I didn’t remember Bug! Sorry!"- Joey walked to the kitchen and turned the machine off.

- "It’s ok, I would have checked it anyway"- she smiled as she walked back and opened the door- "Shall we?"

Having his own signature bass was Mikey’s dream. And for someone who was fulfilling his goal, the bassist didn’t really look happy. He checked the details, talked with the luthiers, played a little, made corrections, and set a date to see the progress in a week. But he didn’t smile at all the whole time.

- "How are you?"- Gerard whispered as he stood next to Joey at one side of the room, both of them staring at a wall filled with basses and guitars.

- "Good, you? How’s the break?"- she could almost feel her voice shaking as she talked to him. That’s how nervous he made her feel. And after so many days apart, the effect seemed to be getting worse, like a concentrated dose.

- "Good… very pleasant."

- "Are you having a nice weekend?"

- "Yes…"- he whispered and looked at her for a second- "I kinda missed you, you know? “Kinda missed you??! What the fuck was that, Gerard??! What are you?? twelve??!!”

- "Really?"- she whispered, surprised.

- "Yeah… you get used to being around people when you are touring."

- "That’s true"- Joey turned to him and smiled- "I’ve missed you too"- she whispered and looked back at the musical instruments around him.

- "You have?"

- "Sure. I haven’t talked to you since we got here. At least the other guys and I keep texting or calling each other. You vanished."

Gerard faked a smile and looked away. So it wasn’t just Mikey? all the guys talked to her daily, and he had no idea about it? Did that include Frank too?

- "Well, you haven’t texted either"- he simply replied and looked at her with a small smile.

- "You know I don’t have your number, right?"

- "What?"- Gee frowned, confused.

- "You never gave it to me… well, I never asked for it."

They looked at each other in silence, something that happened so often between them; it could be their natural behavior.

- "Would you give it to me?"- Gerard whispered, and neither of them moved.

- “That’s what scares me the most. Under other circumstances, I would give it to you,”- Joey thought and smiled, as her cheeks blushed

- "Your number"- he added and chuckled- “... Although.”

- "I know, perv. Give me your phone."

- "Hey kids!"- Mikey appeared next to them and smiled- "What are you doing?"

- "Giving your brother my number, ‘cos apparently, we weren’t friends until now."

- "Wow, that’s harsh! You didn’t ask for mine either!"- Gerard argued but chuckled.

- "Yeah, you keep saying that, but you didn’t offer it either, and Gerard Way’s number has to be something too exclusive to own."

- "Ok, you are both assholes"- Mikey ignored the whole conversation and looked at his friend- "I need you to help me, Bug"

- "What is it?"

- "I want you to help me pick up a new bass"

- "Don’t you have a hundred already?"- Joey teased him and walked with him

- "It’s not for me, it’s for you"- Joey stopped walking and frowned- "What? You need one."

- "I don’t."

- "Yes, you do, I’m gonna teach you, and I am not gonna lend you mines. They are too special."

- "Mikey…"- but he didn’t let her finish.

- "Besides, we are going to be touring so much, you are going to have to find something useful to do when we are on the bus. You can teach me drums, I can teach you bass, we are gonna be better musicians, it’s a win, win situation."

Mikey looked so excited about his idea Joey didn’t want to break the dream. Besides, it felt like he was making a project out of his whole idea, something to keep his mind entertained. And that sounded like a nice plan. Better than drinking himself to sleep most of the nights.

- "I’m not gonna convince you to change your mind, am I?"- she asked and giggled, staring at her friend’s serious face.

- "Nop"- he quickly answered, making sure the last “p” sounded loud, as it would make a statement or whatever.

- "Fine… but I’ll pay you back."

- "Oh, you are paying for it"- he quickly replied- "But not with money, I really want those drums lessons."

Gerard stared at the scene and sighed. His brother wrapped an arm around Joey’s neck as they walked to pick up her bass. He was jealous and worried at the same time. He was jealous of how close he was with her and how much he trusted her. Gee felt left aside from his problems. Joey had spent more time with his brother than him in the latest weeks. Ever since they met, actually. Why didn’t he trust his older brother anymore?

The bass they picked was a tidepool Player Jaguar Fender. Mikey carried it to his car and smiled proudly. Gerard took a Fender Rumble 15, and Joey just smiled embarrassedly.

- "You didn’t have to buy the amp"- she whispered to Gerard.

- "You can’t play bass without an amp"- he simply replied and smiled- "Besides, you can always pay me back in drum lessons too"- the girl chuckled, blushed, and looked at her friends.

- "Ok, kids, lunch is on me. You two deserve Joey’s signature menu for being this nice to me"- she grinned and got into the car.

- "And where are we going?"- Mikey sat behind the wheel and turned to her, just as Gerard, from the passenger seat

- "To my house, I am cooking you mi especialidad: bandeja paisa"- the Way brothers frowned and looked at each other- "Just come and eat like porks with me, ok?"

- "Fine"- Mikey answered and chuckled- "Are you gonna go all Latina on us?"

- "You better be sure I am."

- "I’ve never seen you like that"- Gerard said and looked at her again. She blushed and closed her eyes, embarrassed.

- "Well, I have, and it’s fucking weird!"- Mikey answered to his brother- "And when she starts mixing English, Icelandic, and Spanish… damn it!"

- "Vinsamlegast þegiðu! (Please shut up!)"- the girl shouted and hit Mikey’s shoulder- "Odio Cuando dices eso! (I hate it when you do that)"

- "See?"- the bassist turned to his friend- "It’s fucking weird."

- "Let’s take a selfie and send it to Frank and dad"- Joey said and looked for her phone in her bag. But never found it- "Oh fuck! Matthew has it"- she whispered and sighed.

Suddenly she remembered she had given it to him, and it bothered her to know she had given away some power to please a guy. Fuck, she deeply regretted doing that.

- "Let’s use my phone"- Gerard said and pointed the camera at them- "Ok, smile!!"

- "Say cheese!!"- Joey grinned, and the Way brother smiled- "Dad is gonna love that! He said he missed us too, he actually invited me to stay with him in Jersey while we rehearsed for the concert"- the girl said and looked outside the window- "I think it would be nice, I’ve never been to Jersey"- she kept talking, more to herself than to her friends.

- "You can stay with me too if you want"- Mikey said, and Gerard turned to him, scowling- "I mean, I’m gonna be home with our parents…"

- "That sounds so fucking weird, Michael James"- and Joey burst out laughing- "But though I love the idea of having a sleepover at your parents, Matthew is coming with me that weekend"- Gerard’s frown grew bigger.

- "Bug, tell me the truth"- Mikey said after a while. The radio was on, and the three of them had been basically just humming a few songs as they made their way to Joey’s house.

- "Shoot"

- "Matthew hates me, right?"

- "Why would you say that?"

- "‘Cos he looks like he hates me"

- "Of course not!"- the girl lied right away and snorted- "He is just shocked we got along so quickly."

- "Oh"- Mikey made a pause and chuckled- "So he really hates me."

- "No! I mean it!"

- "I think that’s a yes"- Gerard said to his brother and nodded.

- "Well… I guess I won’t be watching Criminal Minds anymore."

Matthew could hear Joey laughing from the hallway. She wasn’t alone. There were other voices and some music too. What the fuck was going on? He wasn’t thrilled at all ‘cos he had been calling his girlfriend the whole day and her phone was off. But this was too much for him to handle with a cold head. But he had to breathe and trust her.

- "Hey! What are you doing?"- he opened the door and glared at the Way brothers. Mikey was sitting behind Joey’s electric drum while she held a bass. Gerard was sitting on her couch, laughing. Well, not anymore, at least.

- "Akumu!! How was your day? Did you have fun meeting and greeting people?"- she quickly stood up, almost jumping and running to him, wrapping her arms around him.

- "It was ok…"- she kissed him sweetly and kept smiling- "What are you guys doing?"

- "I invited the guys for lunch, and we just stayed here playing for a while"- she simply answered.

- "I’ve been calling you the whole day, but you didn’t pick up"- Joey raised an eyebrow and looked into her boyfriend’s eyes.

- "Akumu, you’ve got my phone, remember?"- and Matthew Gray Gubler wanted to slap himself. The only thing he could do was be the nicest and sweetest, not jealous boyfriend he could be.

- "Shit!"- and Joey just nodded- "I’m so sorry!"

- "I know, so, wanna join us?"

- "Actually, I think we should go"- Gerard said and stood up- "I’ve got to pick up my wife from an event, “liar, liar pants on fire,” and Mikey has to drive me over"

Gee turned to his brother, and he nodded.

- "Yeah, and we better hurry ‘cos we are late"- he added and grabbed all his things- "I’m taking this"- he said and grabbed the bass he had left in her house- "You better practice."

- "Guys, you don’t have to run out just ‘cos I got here"- Matthew smiled- "We could hang out for a while."

- "I saved you some bandeja paisa"- Joey whispered, and her boyfriend’s smile grew bigger.

- "I love you so much."

- "Yeah, I know, I’m awesome"

- "Thank you, Matthew, but we really have to go"- Gerard shook his hand and smiled- "But Joey said you would come with us to the show in New York."

- "Yeah! I am! I feel like shit, I still can’t get to see my girl in action"- he smiled and wrapped an arm around Joey’s shoulders. She hated when he called her “his girl.” She wasn’t his, or anyone’s, as a matter of fact. That was one of the reasons why she hadn’t have a serious relationship before.

- "We’ll see you there then"- Gerard assured- "We’ll show you Jersey, Joey said she was dying to see where we hid all the mafia corpses"- and the girl chuckled

- "You keep trying to sell it for me, but dude, I’m sold!!"- Gerard laughed at Joey’s words and stared at her in silence for a few seconds until he realized Matthew was there. He didn’t want him to know or even suspect how he felt about his girlfriend.

- "Thank you for everything, guys"- the girl walked them to the door with a warm smile on her face- "You are the best!"

- "Nah"- Mikey hugged her and messed her hair pretty much at the same time- "You’ve been a great little sister. Thank you for coming along!"

- "See you when I come back from Seattle."

- "Yeah, we have to practice!"- the youngest Way shook Matthew’s hand and said goodbye. Gerard did the same, wished them a safe trip, and walked out of the apartment. He and his brother walked in silence until they reached the car.

- "Dude!"- Mikey finally said when he started the car- "That guy hates the shit out of me!"

- "He was going to kill us when he walked in! What the fuck is his problem?"

- "I don’t know!! He has to death jealous"

- "Well, so would I"- Gerard thought out loud and noticed he had to add something in case his brother would think the wrong thing, which would be actually the right thing.

- "I mean, if my girl hung out with four dudes, I barely know and travel the world with them, I would be jealous too."

- "Maybe"- Mikey gave it a little thinking and nodded- "Maybe when they are back, we could invite them out for diner or something, that way he can know us and figure out we don’t wanna bang his girlfriend."

- "Yeah, sure, that would be helpful"- Gerard Way was full of shit.

taglist @all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

Do you wanna talk about this story, or be added to the taglist? send me a message here

[lxstfulbeans]

JUST CURIOUS OR NOOOOT....if you’re open or not, that’s cool~....

*slides a hundred your way*

I must know, what would it be like for Levi, Erwin, and lastly HANGE *clears throat* to be with a Black S/O, but here’s the catch. They’re the only black person behind the wall..well atleast what’s his name comes around..

Also, Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated, sleep well, relax, breathe, happy Valentine’s Day ❤️

Aight I gotchu babes, lemme get that hunnid up outcha 😏. And thank you so much 🥺 same to you!!

I feel like I gave more to Erwin and Hange than Levi, but I love these three equally 😭✋🏽. But, hope you enjoy this!

Headcanons: what it’s like with the only black s/o behind the walls.

Levi Ackerman:

When he first met you, he’s like “what in the fuck-“

He never meant it in bad way, oh no ma’am. It’s just that NO ONE has ever seen anyone like you before, let alone thought there were people of a different race.

But knowing Levi, and seeing his resting bitch face.. how could you ever know 💀.

My guy literally lived in the UNDERGROUND, on some “City of Ember” type shit, and has never seen someone like you before.

When you decided to join the Survery Corps. then eventually choosing the Scouts after being top of your class. He took it as an opportunity to observe you (well, him and like twenty, thirty other people 💀), whenever y’all sat and talked about expedition plans with Hange and the Commander, he enjoyed listening to you speak your mind and blast your opinions.

And don’t get me started on how strong and open-minded you are.

Eventually, he’ll start catching feelings. He’ll talk to you more, occasionally praise you for a job well done more than he’s done ANYONE else. He’ll even fucking compliment you and pick up on little things you’ve done.

Of course, when the other brats get outta hand when it comes to awful flirting and tryna see what that thang do. He shuts that shit down before it can even start.

“Oi. Get the fuck outta here before I use you as live bait for the Titans.”

Best believe they skedaddled.

He asks if you’re okay, and to tell him that if anyone else makes you uncomfortable like that again so he could properly whoop they ass.

Y’all get to talking and.. somehow talk most of the day away.

When he heard you laugh, he was struck. His heart pounding, though he couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at his lips.

Then, he asks you to be his. Which you accept with pride.

He’s always there to help you with wash days if you need it. He loves helping you, even if he doesn’t really show it.

Oh, and that discrimination shit? Y’all can cut that shit out right now cuz Levi don’t play.

Teamwork makes the dream work when it comes to cleaning. He’s impressed at how much better you are at it than he others.

Oh and your COOKING babyyy

He be stingy with it for sure. He was big mad when everybody else wanted some, at least you saved some pie for him.

And y’all are partners in fucking crime. Y’all be bodying Titans left and right bruh. Don’t nobody want the smoke.

Erwin Smith:

Oh my lawd, why is he so fine and RESPECTFUL 😔✊🏽.

Okay, okay this ain’t about me rn heheh.

Honestly, he’ll be flabbergasted to be in your presence. He’s never seen someone of a different race before, he wondered were there more of you on the outside?

When he saw you the first time on the return from another expedition outside the walls. His eyes met you and he was just.. amazed. He was sure that he wasn’t seeing things but, he had to see you again.

When he couldn’t find you, he had to come to the conclusion that you were a hallucination. I mean, he was exhausted, sleep deprived, and hungry.

But, eventually he found you by yourself at the bridge. He was amazed at how the morning sun made you glow, reflecting off of your brown skin.

When you caught him staring, he choked on his words as he rambled with apologies. This made you smile, inviting him to sit and enjoy the morning with you.

Y’all started talking and you just.. clicked. When he heard your laugh for the first time, he had it bad.

He tried visiting you as much as he could, even if it was only a simple “hello, how are you?” or the slightest of small talk.

When the Walls were invaded, you were helpless. No one bothered to help you, either saving their own asses or being eaten alive. You couldn’t count the times where you were so close to meeting death. You refused to become a victim and have fear control you.

When you joined the Scouts, he was shocked to you standing here before him. Your fist over your heart as you announce yourself. He never thought you would be here about to risk your life everyday.

But, he saw that fire in your eyes and smiled.

He couldn’t guarantee your safety but would do everything in his power to make sure nothing happens to you.

He’s a busy man. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t sit and talk with you all of the time. If you were lucky, he’d send a smile or even a wink your way.

Though, he’s often caught you by yourself again, watching the sunset or gazing into the night sky. The way you skin would glow made him look back on old times.

He sits with you, talking the night away and making you smile again.

Overtime, you eventually get closer. When you originally closed yourself of because of the events of “That Day”, but opened up more and more when you both were together.

Whenever somebody tries to snitch on you to him, you’re literally not phased by this shit.

“Tell him then, I don’t give no fuck! Matter of fact, I’ll tell him for you!”

He honestly adores how you don’t take shit from anybody, but he lets you get away with a little bit of things. He won’t reprimand you but will give you a slap on the wrist if you went too far with something.

Whenever he says something unintentionally funny, you just crack up laughing. Like, you are wheezing so silently and rolling on the floor in tears. He couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at how silly you were.

He adored everything about you. Your laugh, how your skin glows in the light, your captivating smile, and how you weren’t playing games with nobody.

This time, he realizes his growing feelings for you.

Eventually, he confesses his feelings to you. Like this man is poetic as hell, he’s listing off everything he loves about you, even the little things made his heart soar. You were honestly shocked that your Commander felt this way about you.. but you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel the same.

After y’all get boo’d up, you’re basically a power couple.

Somebody got one time to talk shit about you, on god he is on them like white on rice.

“If you say one more word about them, I will personally make sure that on the next expedition, I will leave you behind...”

Ah, don’t you just love it when it he gets serious and protective?

And both y’all side-eye the fuck outta people when they don’t rub you the right way.

Wash days? He’s all for it. Once he sees your arms drooping, clearly worn out from washing your hair, he’ll happily roll up his sleeves and get up in there.

Bruh, have you seen his hands?? You KNOW his massages are bomb af, like you damn near fall asleep everytime he massages and scratches your scalp.

Don’t get him started on your cooking, he’d do anything for it. He gets so happy when you save extra plates for him to eat later.

When push comes to shove and everyone’s losing their shit, you have to be strong. Erwin’s always motivated you and inspired you, if humanity had any chance to survive, you had to show it.

“Y’all need to get yo shit together PERIODT! It’s okay to be scared, but we won’t make it out of this if you keep actin’ like this! Y’all signed up to protect humanity right?! Well, show these Titans who they fuckin’ with!”

After hearing that.. he wanted to marry you.

(bonus: let’s say that he’s alive 💀 cuz I literally cried when he got clapped like how-)

When you were finally able to go outside the walls without any fear of the Titans, you felt free.

When you came across the ocean, he couldn’t take his eye off of how amazed you looked at the clear blue waters, the sun making it shine towards its horizon.

“It’s everything Cadet Arlelt said, right? Where there’s an ocean.. there’s other lands, eventually other enemies.”

“I know. We made it this far, it’s only right that we keep goin’.”

Hange Zoë:

Hange can GET IT MM- 🤧 they are literally so fine.

oh, and it’s kinda canon that they’re non-binary so 😃.

This’ll be after you first join the Scouts and baby they was on you like white on rice INSTANTLY.

They’ve never seen anyone like you before. It was almost forbidden to learn or talk about anything beyond the walls, were there more of you?? Where did you come from?

Though, they’re outta pocket questions and lack of knowledge of something called, “personal space” kinda made you nervous so they brought down a couple notches.

When they got to know you more, they were just ecstatic to see you.

When Hange caught you alone, basking in the warm embrace of the sun, they couldn’t take the throbbing of their heart as your dark skin was shining.

When you eventually start dating, they had no problem putting folks in their place when they try you.

“Alright, I see that you have quite a lot to say about my s/o! I bet you won’t be spouting a word when you come face to face with Titan. I’ll happily let you see them up close..”

They’d absolutely kill for your cooking. Deadass. If they’re not the first and last one to get a plate, they’ll be big mad for a hot minute.

I’m sure they observe you a lot, especially when it comes to your routines and how you try your best not to smell like a hunnid cans of bounce dat ass 💀. So when wash day comes and you’re kinda tired after training, they’ll happily wash your hair for you.

They’ll praise you for all the hard work you’ve done, giving you little forehead kisses, massaging and giving light scratches to your scalp.

OOH WEE- you are in absolute heaven with them.

Both of y’all share that chaotic energy, bugging the hell outta Levi when you get the chance.

When it comes to fighting Titans, y’all don’t play! When it’s time to put the moves on ‘em you do it!

- - END SCENE - -

[extravaguk]

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m 

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones. 

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks? 

But apparently, you did. 

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone. 

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve. 

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat. 

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin)  falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now.  Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence. 

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question.  Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips. 

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall. 

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby." 

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes. 

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you. 

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck. 

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace.  It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing. 

"Let me take you on a date." 

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week. 

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away. 

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right. 

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be. 

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes. 

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony. 

"N-no!" 

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out. 

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed. 

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful. 

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one. 

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance. 

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible. 

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth. 

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future. 

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you. 

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

[wizkiddx]

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

************************

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months.  Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size  of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.” 

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you  to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you  yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically,  and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?