#we’ve had a year to prepare for this and i’m still not fucking ready for it

[edsbacktattoo]

jams. babe. jams. listen.

so people have been pointing out that ed in That One Picture seems to be wearing buttons' shirt right. which means the crews have reunited at that point right.

which means there's an even greater chance that That Look is because of stede.

like.

so who's driving the clown car off a cliff--you or me?

jodi. ohhhh my sweet darling jodi. we each have a hand on the steering wheel. we each have a clown shoe pressed on the gas babe.

if this is his besotted look……… jesus fucking christ. jesus christ. good fuckin g lord

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 29: edging | Jegulus

“No, Y/N, that’s not the correct answer.” You huffed, pouting. You loved the fact that you were younger than your two boyfriends most of the time, you loved how protective they got, you loved being the centre of their attention; what you didn’t love was being tutored by them. They were the most amazing partners in the world most of the time, but when it came to prepare you for a test, they became unsufferable. It surely didn’t help that your attention span was the one of a ten years old when it came to studying.

“Jamie, please, I’m so tired” You made him puppy eyes, knowing that Regulus wouldn’t let you relax until you finished all of your work.

“No, baby, you have to finish this.”

“But I already know everything, it’s not fair!”

Regulus raised a brow at you, making you slightly panic: he wasn’t the one to raise his voice, his calmness was way more intimidating. “Okay, baby, if you’re so sure about it, we will play a game. We’re going to test you on all the material we’ve taught you today. At the end, you will be edged for each mistake you made”

You widened your eyes, knowing that you’ve royally fucked it up. You mumbled something, but they both ignored you, getting started on discussing together the question they would have asked you.

“Reggie, you’re right, maybe we should go over the material once again, just to be sure?” Your voice sounded dangerously close to begging, but you would have done anything to not participate in that sick game.

“Come on now, love, you insisted you knew everything. Don’t underestimate your knowledge! It’s just a little test, now be quiet and stay still” You huffed, trying to steal some glances at the notes they had splayed in front of them, only for James to cover them up, winking at you.

You sat there for a while, gnawing at your lower lip, cursing yourself for behaving like a brat. You knew what the consequences were, so why did you insist on making them mad?

“Okay, baby, are you ready?”

“No, I made a mistake, can we just start over-“

“Which plant produces Stinksap?” James winked at you. You tried to search for the answer, knowing damn well it was all for nothing, your mind blank.

“V-Venomous tentacula? No, no wait it’s Mandrake? No-”

“The answer is incorrect, it was Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Next”

“I was about to say that! You interrupted me, fucking-“

“If you were to heal some wounds, which plant would you use?” Regulus was sporting a blank expression, and you knew you were royally fucked.

“Wormwood” You were sure about this, a 100%. It wasn’t one chance in hell it was wrong, you knew this one-

“It’s Dittany” James gave you a pitiful expression, you huffed your cheeks, straightening up a bit: if you were going to loose this sick game, you would have least kept your pride doing so.

“I give up, please, stop asking questions” They had already tested you on four questions, and you only got one right. They exchanged a pointed look.

“Okay, we’re going to stop here. Now we will teach you a lesson, and tomorrow you will sit down and behave, you will be studying for this test because there is no chance in hell you’re going to fail this, I refuse to be perceived as someone who doesn’t know how to properly tutor just because you’re behaving like a brat.” Regulus raised a brow at you as you were going to reply, actively shutting you up. “Now, take off all of your clothes and lay down on the bed”

You scrambled to do so, knowing it wasn’t the time to question Regulus. Once you were sprawled on the bed like he instructed, they both circled you. James’s hand circled your neck, squeezing softly, while your other partner held a rabbit vibrator in his hand.

“We will edge you for three times, baby. You aren’t allowed to come if we don’t say so, so don’t even try to disobey us, understood?”

“Understood” As soon as you said the word, Regulus head disappeared between your thighs. You felt his warm lips on your knee, tracing your inner thigh with his warm tongue, making you shiver from head to toe. He reached your mound, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on top of your panties, making you gasp.

James chuckled, nipping at your earlobe. “Love, I think you should hold back a bit” You refrained from whining, not wanting to worsen the situation you were in.

Regulus calloused fingers took off your panties, smirking at your wetness. He entered you with his index finger, slowly pulling it out afterwards, entering you once again.

“Look how wet she is, do you love being punished, darling?” You shook your head, eyes closed, as you tried your best to hold back, to not be affected by your boyfriend’s ministrations. “No? Then why are you this wet, love?”

You bit back a bratty remark, you had a hate-love relationship with your punishment. Yes, they could be really fun, and you usually enjoyed the aftercare, but it was really hard for you to be soft and pliant, and they knew this all too well.

He teased your clit with his thumb, meanwhile James started kissing you, his movement slow and calculated, making your head spin with the stimulation.

As you were about to come, they stopped any movement, making you whine.

“That’s one, love, you did so good” Reggie kissed your thigh, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him when he behaved like this.

He lowered his head on your core, making you gasp, as he started to stimulate you once again. “Fuck, Regulus”

James opened your shirt, his fingers working the buttons quickly, then opening the frontal clasp of your bra. “You’re so gorgeous” He breathed out, looking mesmerized.

“You see ‘em… fuck” You crossed your eyes as Regulus sucked on your clit. “Everyday”

“They’re always so pretty” He sucked on your nipple as Regulus sped up the rhythm of his sucking. You looked down, admiring how his black curls created a sinful contrast with your skin; he raised his gaze, winking at you.

In the back on your mind you knew that you weren’t allowed to come, problem was that you didn’t care anymore. You wished they forgot about the punishment, but obviously, they didn’t.

As soon as they heard the changing of the tone of your moans, they stopped altogether, making you whine.

“Please, fuck, just let me come” Your clit felt almost raw, you felt on the verge of crying.

“No, honey, we said you were going to be edged three times and that’s what’s going to happen. If you behave we might let you finish afterwards”

He positioned the rabbit vibrator inside of you with one swift thrust, James kept on sucking and nipping at your nipples: it took you an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to be on the verge of coming.

When they didn’t let you come once again, you sniffled. You actually felt the urge to cry, to let out all of the frustration you built up over this punishment.

James softened his gaze, and so did Regulus. “You were so good for us, honey, we’re going to make you come now, okay?”

You nodded, Regulus started fingering you once again, this time his movements were much softer. James massaged your breasts in his hands, his thumb flicking your nipple here and then, keeping his movements gentle and controlled.

In no time you reached your peak, and as you exploded around your boyfriend fingers, they sweet talked you through it.

Once you came down from your high, they moved like a well-oiled machine, cleaning you up while simultaneously praising you, trying their best to keep you as grounded as possible.

taglist: @consciouscarrot @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @remussbitch @sammyreid

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

New beginnings | joel miller x f!reader, 7.8k

Summary: What happens when you run into that handsome stranger from the bar at Trish’s house? Where do the two of you stand two years after this unexpected encounter?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some back and forth on the timeline, mutual pinning, light angst, slow-burn, a smidgen of fluff, cursing, Joel being kind of a prick, Joel being an idiot, insecurities, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Part two of the I don’t even know your name series and yes, I know it’s been a long time coming, sorry about that! I’m confident (well, aren’t you a bold one?) that the third part will be coming much, much sooner! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all!

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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BEFORE

You know that warmth. You remember it. His warmth. His large, calloused hand completely encircles yours as you formally introduce yourselves. If his reflexes weren’t fast enough, you’d still be staring at him, unable to believe he’s standing right before you.

The storm of all those memories overwhelmed you and Joel realized that, unlike the rest of your company who continued to stand behind your back in blissful ignorance. Your mind had become detached from your body, which seemed to make decisions of its own; you were ready to do anything at this moment.

If he chose to show his hand and acknowledge you, you would follow his lead. If -by some miracle- he chose to lean in and kiss you, you would reciprocate. If he chose to pretend he didn’t know you, you would put up with it. You would do anything to be good for him, no common sense left in your dazed mind. But his face is serious and his warm, dry hand is firmly on yours, squeezing it lightly, in a silent form of communication, I know; it’s ok; get a grip; what the fuck. He doesn’t let go of your hand, acting as an anchor, until you decide you feel grounded enough to handle the situation. It’s at that moment that you can tell he’s waitin’ for you to be in control of the narrative. Whatever you say, goes.

You take a deep breath and tell him your name, as you finally release your hand from his and move aside to let him enter the house. The muscles between his eyebrows and around his mouth twitch imperceptibly, almost in disappointment, you think. His scent as he passes by you, hits your nostrils and your memories flood back into your mind, even stronger than before. Your body tenses and you feel your nipples tighten against the fabric of your bra. You begin to wonder how you’re gonna make it through the night.

You all move into the living room while dinner is being prepared, except for Trish who excuses herself to the kitchen. Tommy sits on the couch next to you while Joel is standing in front of the window with his arms crossed over his chest and Sarah is relaxing in her favorite spot, on some big fluffy cushions randomly scattered on the floor next to the fireplace, scrolling through her phone.

“Trish, do you need a hand?” you try to keep your voice steady, although you desperately need an excuse to leave the room. No such luck. “No babe”, comes the wrong answer, “I got it, you chill and have fun!” Why she has to be such a good friend is beyond you. You smile awkwardly and look everywhere but in Joel’s direction. Tommy puts you all out of your misery by asking you about your relationship with Trish.

“Oh, we’ve been best friends for a long time, done pretty much everything together,” you explain, deliberately raising your voice for the last part, “it’s starting to get unhealthy if you ask me,” you look towards the kitchen entrance, waiting for her reaction. “You’re not moving outta here any time soon, missy, so stop whining!” comes the reply from the kitchen. You grin as Tommy and Sarah laugh. Joel just stares at you with a scowl on his face.

“Are you staying long?” Tommy continues.

“Tommy.” Joel warns him.

“I’m just making conversation sunshine, ‘mnot being nosy!”

“It’s ok, really, no problem at all.” you intervene, feeling sorry for Tommy, still avoiding looking directly at Joel. “I’ll be out of her hair, as soon as I find a place to move to..”

“No, you won’t!” Trish protests. “Yes, I will!” you deadpan, “I told you it was getting unhealthy.”, you wink at Tommy before you could stop yourself. Why the hell did you wink at him? You need to calm down before you do something stupid. Joel’s fingers tighten, clutching his arms tighter to his chest. Shit, you don’t think straight when you’re stressed. Tommy seems to like it, though.

“Maybe we could help you”, Tommy offers, “we see lots of places ‘cause of our job, we could keep you in mind if something good comes up.”

“Tommy.” Joel drags his brother’s name across his tongue as a warning. You look at him quizzically for the first time since your handshake, wondering what they do for a living. Fortunately, you work up the courage to ask Joel directly, before Tommy has time to protest to his brother again.

“I’m a contractor” Joel informs you with the slightest hint of annoyance, as if he was reluctant to share this mundane information, “and Tommy works with me.”

“Oh, that’s cool!”, you raise your eyebrows in admiration, your eyes brightening. He takes his eyes off you and you wither inside.

“Well, never heard that one before. Joel is cool.” Tommy says in mocking surprise, giggling. You look flustered and Joel looks annoyed. “She didn’t say I was cool.” he frowns at his brother, “I know my job is far from fancy, you don’t have to just say that.” he turns his reply to you, displeased with your comment.

God, you feel like a little child in his presence, he can’t just chastise you like that, you have two kids of your own, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. “I know I’m not,” you say defensively and you start to get irritated. This is how the night is going to unravel? “I mean it. I have always admired people who can build and repair things with their own hands. Three pairs of eyes are now looking at you, all of them quite surprised.

Joel has absolutely no confidence in himself to start a conversation with you right now, but his curiosity gets the better of him. So, “How so?” is the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

Your eyes widen slightly in startlement at his sudden elaboration, you hadn’t expected him to continue the conversation. “Uh,” you sigh, raising your brows in deep thought and shaking your head slightly, “maybe it has something to do with my dad, he was always good at fixing things. I don’t know, it made me feel safe, taken care of. Still does, even the thought of it. I always thought that if the world ever came to an end, your kind would be the ones to survive.” you shrug, unable to look Joel in the eye and fidgeting with your fingers on your lap, the answer more intimate than you intend it to be. But you give it anyway, for him.

You want him to know that you would never lie or make fun of him. That night, however indifferent it was to him, made him indelibly etched in your memory. And even though your interaction was so brief, one night out of the thousands in your life, it made you feel something for him. Childish as it may sound, you felt he deserved your respect in some way.

There’s a moment’s silence in the room, Joel staring down at his feet, not wanting to look emotional. Taken care of. He can’t get the words out of his head; it’s what he felt for you that night, what he wanted to offer you before his chance was torn apart by the fucking knoc-

“Our kind?” Tommy intervenes once more.

“Yeah,” you try not to blush, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks, “you know, resourceful, competent, reliable.” Sarah tries to hide her grin behind her mobile phone, sneaking glances in Joel’s direction, little devil, while Tommy looks so pleased with your perception of their profession.

“Then you should definitely keep us close, take full advantage of us,” Tommy fills the silence, now his turn to wink at you, oh god, what a mess, “I’m in the same business, too, like Joel said.” Subtle. “We’d be more than happy to help darlin’, right Joel?” he turns to look at his older, brooding brother. Joel seems lost in thought or uninterested in answering. “Right?” he presses eagerly. Joel slowly raises his head, looks deep into your eyes and says nothing more than “Right” in a deep drawl of a voice. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He makes you feel so small but you feel a glob of arousal pooling on your underwear, making you wonder what the hell is wrong with you.

Tommy turns to you expectantly, his eyes shining under the lights in the room.

“Maybe I intend to.”, you smile softly, glancing briefly at Joel before turning your eyes back to Tommy. Joel’s body stiffens, giving you the impression he’s trying to hold something back.

“Is it something particular you’re interested in, so we know what we’re looking for?” To your and Joel’s dismay, Tommy doesn’t let up. Your eyes turn briefly to Joel for help, but he looks down again, his arms still stiff across his chest, as if they had a mind of their own and were capable of murder if he let them go at his sides.

“Uuuuh,” you laugh nervously, “anything will do considering my situation, I can’t really be picky.”

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” Tommy frowns worriedly. Joel stiffens at the sound of the endearment.

Where do you start with what’s going on in your life right now? Only one person -apart from Trish- seems to know and he doesn’t look very happy at the moment. “Well, Tommy, I’ve two kids, two little girls and I can’t find a place that is decent enough, at a good price and owned by someone who doesn’t mind renting their property to a single mom.” Tommy’s brows are raised so high in shock, they would touch his hairline if they could. “Goddamn, how the hell did that happen?”

“How did what happen?” you ask confused. “You,” he says, his eyes roaming all over you in a definitively not subtle way, “being a single mom with two kids. What the hell did he d-”

“Tommy.” Joel’s tone is more raised this time, shooting daggers at his brother, warning him again to drop it. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ” Joel mutters through his teet, a look of disbelief on his face at his brother’s lack of discretion and if you weren’t already looking at him, you wouldn’t have heard it.

Trish comes out of the kitchen before you or Tommy can react.

“Ok guys, let’s move it to the dining table.” she clasps her hands together, “Dinner will be ready in ten!”

While everyone’s attention is focused on Trish, including yours, Joel’s eyes penetrate you in a silent command to look at him. You feel him staring at you and you turn your attention to him. He continues to stare at you as he asks Trish if she has any tools to fix her bathroom cabinet, since Tommy forgot the one thing he was supposed to remember. He takes his eyes off you as the others laugh at his accusation and turn to look at him.

“Yeah, I think I have a small toolbox in the supply closet upstairs, next to the bathroom. I don’t remember exac-”

“That’s ok Trish, I’m going to check on the girls anyway, I’ll help Joel look for it.” you take the opportunity to excuse yourself.

You stand up carefully, feeling your legs go numb and praying you don’t trip and make a fool of yourself in front of everyone. Joel follows behind you as you go up the stairs. You can feel the tension between you, his body heat almost warming your back. He can’t be that close though, can h-

As soon as you reach the door to the bathroom, he opens it in a hurry and pushes you in, grabbing hold of your arm as he follows suit. You gasp at his gesture and turn to face him. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something. His arms are clenched in fists at his side, giving you the impression he’s trying to control himself.

You’re both silent, despite a vocabulary so vast, none of the words seem to fit your thoughts and emotions. “You’re OK.” He speaks first. It’s not a question, not a reassurance. It’s a statement of fact. You look confused, trying to work out where he is going with this. He thought you would break down at the sight of him? Well, he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” It comes out harsher than you intended.

You see in real time a series of thoughts crossing his eyes, something fragile and vulnerable in the air. But it passes as quickly as it came.

“Nothin’, nothin’.”, he shakes his head and closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He opens his eyes with a sigh and looks at you. You stare at each other for a good minute and then you both realize that you are together again, the two of you, in a small bathroom, behind a closed door. Your brain is blank, the only thought crossing it is to say something, say something, say something, but he beats you to it. “It’s best if we don’t tell them we know each other.” Is he serious right now? From all the things he could have said, this is what he came up with? You bite the inside of your cheek in frustration, “Well, I think we’re already past that, that firm handshake at the front door made that quite clear.”

“You played along, though. So, don’t go around accusing m-”

“Hey, hey, I’m not accusing you of anything, where is this even coming from?” you frown in confusion. He wanted you to admit you knew him in front of everyone? In front of his daughter? “Hey, guys, how do you know each other?” “Oh, we almost fucked in a bar bathroom!”. That would have gone well.

“Yeah, I’m just sayin’-”

“Look, Joel, there’s nothing to say. It’s not like I was going to shout it over the rooftops anyway.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”, he looks offended for some reason.

“Means that there’s nothing to say.” you insist sternly. “Literally.”

He laughs nervously, obviously irritated. You don’t understand why, you thought you were making his life easier. What does he want from you? “Right, right,” is all he gives you, nodding his head a few times. You raise your hands in resignation, your eyebrows raised to your forehead, your mouth open, not knowing how to navigate the situation.

“What is your problem, what do you want me to say? You pretended not to know me when you saw me and you just told me, like 30 seconds ago, not to mention anything to anyone! I think I’m doing all right so far, don’t you? How am I pissing you of exactly?” your anger makes you raise your voice slightly.

He’s all over you in a second, pinning you between his body and the bathroom door. “Keep your goddamn voice down.” he grits through his teeth, his one hand a clenched fist at his side, the other next to your head, palm flat on the door. The sudden invasion of his scent in your nostrils and the fan of his breath on your lips is all you can register, but his words come back to you and your anger boils in your gut.

“Watch your tone with me, I’m not some child you can intimidate.” you shoot back. That seems to snap him out of his headspace and he backs away slightly. He exhales loudly from his nose and rests his forehead on his outstretched arm, the other now resting on his hip. His unruly locks are so close to your face that you can practically smell his shampoo. You clench your fist to resist running your fingers through his soft hair. “Shit,” he mumbles through closed eyes, he really doesn’t seem to be able to keep his eyes on you long enough, “’msorry”.

He smells so good, so delicious, that it takes every ounce of strength you have not to wrap your hands around his broad torso. You want this moment to yourself, to wrap your arms around him and comfort him, to plant kisses all over his face, to nuzzle your forehead where his thick neck meets his shoulder, to breathe him in. The corded muscles bulging under his tanned skin make you salivate. This guy is pissing you off and all you can think of is how you’d die to touch him. Great. You rest your head on the door behind you, close your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to regulate your breathing.

“’Msorry” he mutters again, shaking his head. He looks so worried and uncomfortable, you decide to give him another chance. Maybe he’s confused, too. You both had to make a call at such a short notice, with his whole family looking at both of you expectantly to introduce yourselves. It was the logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

Maybe he’s afraid you’d expose your naughty deeds in front of his daughter. After all, no parent wants their child to know that they’ve almost had sex with a stranger in a bar. You totally understand. And to be honest, you did leave him all hot and bothered back in that bathroom and run the opposite way, so why would he want to be in the same room with you? He probably feels insulted by your reaction that night.

Or maybe- how did you not think of this before? Maybe he has a wife. But he’s not wearing a ring. Not that it matters, lots of people take their rings off at some point. Maybe he has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t she be here with them for dinner if that was the case? With him? He doesn’t look the type, either. The cheating one. But you hardly know him, you don’t really know much about him beyond what he told you about his past that night.

“Joel.” you call his name looking at him through your lashes, your head still resting on the door.

“Hm” he hums, still in the same position.

“Joel, hey.” you try to get his attention again, this time lifting your head to look straight at him, a gentle smile on your face.

His eyes finally meet yours in a subtle, tired hey, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

You hold each other’s gaze taking each other in, and you both laugh softly in a quiet understanding. But this feels so warm, so soft and tender, is he really that angry with you? He must be, otherwise why the tension? You should try and put him at ease.

“Look, I understand this is awkward and unexpected; I do. But we’re fine; we’re gonna be fine, Joel.” Damn, the sound of his name in your mouth. “I won’t say anything, really, don’t worry. We’ll have a nice meal, we’ll make the typical minimum small talk and when this night is over we’ll be out of each other’s hair, you won’t have to see me again if I can help it, I don’t mean any trouble, seriously.”

And there it is again, the disappointment. “Yeah, no, I know. Sorry I snapped at you.”

Joel looks as if he’s going to say something more, but at the last moment he changes his mind.

You nod in acceptance of his apology. “Let me hand you that toolbox, before they start wondering what’s taking us so long, hm?”

“Sure.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Ok, I’m gonna check on the girls and then head downstairs.”

Joel nods as he takes the toolbox from you, careful not to touch you and crouches down on his knees to inspect the damage to the cabinet. You glance in his direction one last time, admiring his wide, strong form kneeling on the floor and then close the door behind you quietly.

“Fuck.” you both exhale on either side of the door.

Two rotations of the earth around the sun had passed and Joel had become a constant in your life. He came and went like the seasons, with an orbit of his own.

Winter.

His orbit was longer and colder. The distance between you grew, more so emotionally, as if something was holding him back. The domesticity of it all was too much for him, scratching at old wounds he tried too hard to keep buried. He always cared, always kept an eye on you, but from a safe distance.

Like the time you came home late from work and cursed yourself for not cooking dinner in advance. You were starving, but the thought of making something to eat seemed like too much trouble; you were exhausted. Thank goodness the girls had their dinner ready, all you had to do was heat it up. Two minutes after you let yourself in, the doorbell rang. You rushed out of the bathroom and opened the door to a takeaway, its temperature indicating that it had just been delivered to your doorstep. You looked around but saw no one. You were pretty sure it was a mistake, but then your phone vibrated,

Eat, while it’s hot.

Did you leave these outside?

Yes.

Why?

Trish told me you were caught up at work, thought I’d save you some time.

You just kept staring at the screen, your heart warm but your mind confused. A second text came while you debated what to answer him.

Need to take better care of yourself.

No, why ‘d you leave?

Summer.

His orbit was shorter and warmer, like a pleasant summer breeze. He was around more, more involved in your life.

Like the time he was in on your house hunting trip.

Like when he talked you into buying a house and not renting because he found one for you that was beautiful and ideal and close to Trish’s so you wouldn’t be alone and your daughters would love it and it was a family house. Yes, the house was a ruin. OK, maybe not a ruin, but really old. It was beautiful, but it had definitely seen better days. It needed a lot of renovation.

“Joel, I can’t afford this.” you said as you looked around, almost pained to have to say no. It was a really lovely house.

“Listen to me-” Joel tried to make his point but you interrupted him anyway.

“I am listening to you, that’s how you convinced me to consider buying a house instead of renting an apartment. But if I do, I’ll use up all my savings, I can’t afford a renovation of this magnitude,” you continued, looking around the house, moving from room to room, imagining how you would have decorated it if it was yours.

“I’m gonna help you with that.” he said bashfully.

“How are you going to do that, Joel?” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Do you remember what I do for a living?” Joel teased you and you glared at him.

“I’m not sure, I think you mentioned something about a contracting bussiness?” you mimicked him. “Joel, I’m serious. Of course I would choose you and Tommy if i could afford it.” you said in despair, eyes wide, hands in the air as if you’re pleading with him. Which you were.

“I’ll do it in my spare time.” he suggested, looking down at his feet, avoiding eye contact and hugging his chest with his arms, as if trying to protect himself from the vulnerable position he had put himself in.

It took you a minute to register what he was implying. Your jaw dropped, unsure of what to say when you did. Your heart ached with warmth and your breath caught in your chest. It was too much.

“There’s no way I’m accepting this, you know that.”

“I really don’t min-”

“Absolutely not, not in a million years.”

“Goddamn, you’re stubborn!” he snapped, not used to not getting his way. Take the fuckin’ help, goddamn it. Your eyes looked glazed, you never had the ability to deal well with people snapping at you quite well. Especially people you cared about. Joel felt your discomfort and immediately regretted his temper. Soft things needed gentle handling. And you were soft. So soft for this world. For him.

He stepped closer to you and engulfed your hands in his with a deep sigh. “Look, I’ve done the calculation. This is the best deal you can get. The price of the house is fair. In fact, between you and me, it’s low. And I’ve already worked out what needs to be fixed.” He paused, breathing in and exhaling a little harder. “I want to do this. For y- for the girls”, he stuttered and you looked down to where your hands met. These hands. His hands. Big and warm and capable. Capable of renovating your house, capable of holding your hands in his, capable of taking you apart piece by piece. Were they capable of putting you back together again?

Your whole body tingled with another wave of warmth at his touch. But it was too much. It was always too much with him. The unbearable distance or the suffocating closeness. All because he wouldn’t make up his damn mind. He couldn’t do that to you. Give you a glimpse of affection and then pull away. Because you were sure he would eventually. As he had done so many times before. This time you had to protect yourself. So you pushed him away the only way you knew how.

You tore your hands from his tender grip as you attacked him in a raised tone pointing at him. “We are not your responsibility!” You regretted it the moment you spat it out. You didn’t have to be so harsh. So quick to anger. Please, please be angry with me. Scream at me. Turn your back and walk away. Make me feel like shit.

He looked at you in shock, his eyebrows raised, a hint of sadness on his face. And something else, more subtle. As if in understanding. As if he could hear your thoughts. You were not his to care for. You were not his to protect. “I know that.” he sighed, squeezing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Joel,-” you tried to take it back, there were not many things you hated more than what was happening right now. The fact that you couldn’t take back what you had just said. You felt terrible.

“Look,” he interrupted you, raising his arms in resignation. “I’m just trying to help. You moved states alone with two kids, starting from scratch. I just thought maybe I could ease some of the burden. It’s the decent thing to do.”

“Joel, you are cutting yourself short. This is beyond decent. Trish and you- and- and- Tommy and Sarah of course,” you mumbled embarrassingly, “you’re all I have and you have supported me in more ways than I can count. That’s why I can’t be a burden to you.”

“I didn’t mean you were a burden.”

“No, no, I know, this is not on you, this is me, I-”

His face was full of concern as he waited patiently for you to speak your mind.

“I don’t want to be a burden. Or to feel like one. Even if I know-, I know I’m not that to you. I know that. But just the thought of the possibility makes me freak out. That’s why I need to keep everything under control, because if I give it away, even a little, I don’t know how I could ever repay this kindness. I don’t even know if I’m worthy. I’m not-” your voice broke at this confession and you took a breath to recover, “my life is not easy to navigate, I don’t want anyone to stress over me.”

Joel seemed shocked for a moment, not believing what he was hearing. “You think you’re not worthy of kindness? That’s very cruel coming from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Yeah, someone good and kind and caring.”

“You must have me confused with someone else.” you joked, feeling uncomfortable at his praise.

“Darling, if I had known anyone else like you, I would have held on to them for dear life," he spat, before realizing what he had said. He laughed awkwardly, frowning at the slip of his tongue and looked around the room to avoid your gaze. Why don’t you hold on to me, then? was all you could think of, but you didn’t dare ask him. So you moved on, protecting the friendship.

“I just- Jesus, I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you murmured through your teeth, “I was brought up to be strong, never to ask for help, otherwise it was considered a weakness. I learned to do everything myself. By the time my parents grew out of their own insecurities and urged me to be more open, more vocal, it was too late for me to change.” Why on earth are you telling him all this? Why did you mention your parents?

“So, you do kindness, but you don’t accept kindness.” Joel observed and you realized that you had never made that connection.

“I- I don’t know how to receive it; what to do with it.”

In the end, he practically forced his help on you, bit by bit, one sweet word at a time, day by day, until the house was a home. Everywhere you looked you saw Joel’s efforts.

You saw the care with which he worked on this house as if it were his own. You heard his laughter as you forced him to take a break and shoved food into his mouth, knowing he hadn’t eaten all day. Every step you took on the hardwood floors reminded you of his broad back as he knelt down to replace the old floor. Every shower you took was a painful reminder of his massive, veiny hands sweating as he reinstalled the hardware. Everything felt like Joel, even in his absence.

NOW

“What is this party for, again?” you call out from her bedroom as you apply your lipstick in front of her vanity mirror. You almost didn’t come, but you knew she’d drag your ass back to her place if you didn’t.

“This is fooor..” Trish replies from her en-suite bathroom as she searches for a good excuse, unable to find one. “You know what, I don’t need a reason to have a party! Think of it as a chance to see each other more!”

“Trish, we can do this without a million people around us and me leaving my kids with a babysitter.” you roll your eyes in fake exasperation.

“Your kids are gonna be just fine. They want you to have a good time.”

“They’re four and two years old, dude.”

“Well, in that case, they want you to find them a daddy.”

“Oh my god, Trish! Seriously?” you snort at her comment.

“That’s what’s the party’s all about! You finding yourself a daddy; if I’m being honest-”

“Please don’t!” you beg her to stop.

“-you need it more than they do. That is so perfect! I actually have a couple of guys in mind and they’re a bit older, just like you like ‘em-”

“What?” you swallow tightly and you’re glad she can’t see your face right now. “What are you talking about?”

Trish pops her head through the door and wiggles her eyebrows, “They’re about Joel’s age, is what I’m talking about.” You shake your head in denial, your eyes are closed in frustration. “Trish..”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, there’s nothing going on between you; that’s why you’re both hot and flustered every time you’re in the same room.” Your shoulders slump down but you don’t answer because this is getting old.

“What, nothing to say for yourself?” Trish weighs up your reaction and lack of response.

“Frankly, I don’t know what else to say to you.” you shrug in defeat.

“Fine, then find someone to fuck, tonight. That would clear up the air.. for all parties.” Thankfully, you’re saved by the bell, “Jesus..” you mutter to yourself as she leaves you once again to open the door for the first guests.

The party is a success by Trish’s standards, as the house is overflowing with guests. Some of them you knew, most of them you didn’t.

Joel is somewhere in the crowd, chatting to a couple of ladies who have trapped him between them, ogling him like vultures. You make it your mission to rescue him, judging by the desperate look on his face and the furtive glances he throws your way.

As you move to head to his direction, an arm gently encircles your elbow. You turn to see who it is, and are greeted by a stranger. Tall, broad, sweet brown all over his features. He exudes an earthy and secure aura.

“Hi.” the stranger smiles warmly at you, looking deep into your eyes.

“Um,” you blush, why on earth are you blushing, “hi!” you say back. Original.

“I’m Marcus, a colleague of Trish’s.”

“Oh, hi, nice to meet you!” you tell him your name and shake his hand.

“I knew I was right.” he says amusedly, as if talking to himself.

“About what?”

“Trish gave me your name and told me to come find you.”

“Excellent tracking skills, are you a detective or something?”, you tease him playfully.

“Yeah, something like that..”

“Oh- I-” the words catch on your tongue.

“But I had a great lead, wasn’t that hard, to be honest.” he adds.

“Can you share it with me, or you’ll have to kill me if you tell me?” you joke. He was so easy to talk to.

Marcus tips his head back, laughing, “I wouldn’t resort to such methods; let me buy you a drink and we’ll call it even.”

You look down at your hands, your cheeks red from his attention, rolling the bottle of beer you are holding between your palms, too tightly.

“I mean, not right now; I’m sure we could work something out if you’d indulge me.” he adds sheepishly, somehow sensing your train of thought.

God, he’s adorable and not too bad to look at. Actually, he’s quite handsome. “Well, I’ll have to see if your lead is worth my time first.”

Panic rushes through you as you realize the sound of what you said while trying to be funny, and you try to correct it quickly. “Not that- oh gosh-” you feel so embarrassed, but Marcus laughs heartily and shakes his head from side to side.

“Shit, sorry, it was a joke, that’s not the only reason I would go out with you-” Isn’t it? What are you doing? What is he doing to you? Where is Joel? Shit, Joel.

You steal a glance in his direction and he’s already watching your interaction with Marcus, his face hard and unreadable.

“Isn’t it?” Marcus’s voice draws your attention back to him, your eyelids flattering in confusion. He grins, pleased, but so sweet it’s impossible to roll your eyes at him. Your shyness pours through your body language, making Marcus want to comfort you.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool, don’t worry about it. I know it was a joke; I liked it.” he says honestly, “And even if that was the only reason I’m sure by the end of the night you would have changed your mind.” he gives you a lopsided smile, but there’s no smugness on his face.

When he starts to speak again, Trish interrupts, effectively shutting him down. “What took you so long, I thought you couldn’t find her!”

Marcus smiles again, warmth and familiarity washing over you instantly, “Oh, I found her, quite quickly.” his eyes twinkling.

Trish smirks as if she’s realized something, “Come on, I need you outside.”, she grabs your arm and pulls you along, “I’m gonna steal her for a bit, sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s OK, I’m confident I can find her again.”, Marcus winks at you and your heart skips a beat.

You start to walk away, but abruptly turn back, your curiosity overpowering you.

“Never told me about that lead.” you ask him, your eyes wide and wondering.

Marcus bites the inside of his cheek, looking briefly down and then meets your gaze with a hunger in his eyes. “Oh, I had to find the most dazzling woman in the crowd.”, he shrugs as if it was the most self-evident fact in the world. “Mission accomplished.”

You replayed your interaction with Marcus in your mind as you helped Trish light the lanterns on the porch. He had been so kind, direct and sweet, making you feel seen. What bothered you was your reaction. Your insecurity, your inability to believe that he was talking about you. The urge you had to fight when you thought of looking around the room to make sure he wasn't referring to someone else.

What bothered you most was that although it had been two years since you had separated from your husband, you had never felt insecure about yourself. He couldn’t make you feel that way. Of course you doubted yourself at first, looking for your share of the blame, but his actions spoke louder than words, and you couldn’t blame yourself for everything, even if you tried.

But Joel did. He made you feel insecure, vulnerable. With his mixed signals and his constant back and forth, he managed to drive you crazy. What did he want from you? Why couldn’t he make up his mind? Why weren’t you enough? Were you too much?

Maybe it wasn’t just Joel. Maybe anyone in his position would have the same concerns. Perhaps Marcus would do the same if he found out about your family status. Where did that come from? You don’t even know the guy, stop it.

“OK,” you hear Trish behind you, “all set, let’s get back inside.”

You nod, but as you turn to go into the house, Trish comes close, a mischievous look on her eyes and lips. “Maybe, uh..” and she pauses dramatically making you furrow your brow in puzzlement. “Maybe I was wrong about the age gap, huh?”

Oh, god.

“He’s one of the good ones; I approve.” she winks at you and slaps you on the ass cheek, ushering you into the house while you roll your eyes the hardest you could manage.

“Ok, now I need to know.” He laughs heartily, his eyes wrinkling, his whole face lighting up. It didn’t happen very often. It made your heart swell that you were the one making it crinkle with laughter. You loved that face.

“What?” you reply, unsuccessfully fighting back a laugh, dragging out the vowel. You had had a few beers and were relaxed and comfortable around him. You were both standing near the stairs, giving yourselves a bit of privacy from the crowded party. You were still visible to everyone, but it was a little quieter than the constant buzz throughout the house.

“Well, you’re obviously mad at him-” Joel states matter-of-factly, as he leans his back against the wall behind him, but you interrupt before he can finish, “No, I’m not!” and slap your hand on the railing next to you for good measure.

“Uh, uh, uh, none of that,” he looks at you mischievously, “but you never say anything bad about him. So, which one was he?”

“What on earth do you mean, Joel?” and you half whimper his name, thanks to the alcohol in your system, making his cock twitch. God, the things he wants to do to you.

Joel inhales sharply, trying to keep his composure, because he really needs to know what kind of an idiot husband you had chosen to place by your side only to be betrayed; a side he would die to be by. If only he had been the right man for you.

“Which half was he?”

You burst out laughing, finally figuring out what he means. You’re impressed that he still remembers, although it makes sense since you sort of insulted him that night. You know you can’t lie for shit, so you brace yourself, anticipating his reaction. You can almost see the face he’s going to make.

“Actually..” you start, prolonging the suspense, not on purpose, but because you are choking on your own giggles. It’s going to sound so pathetic, but for some reason you can’t wait to tell him how you’ve been deliberately putting yourself down for years. “Yeah...?” His eyes are fixed on you, amused, but you can see the agony underneath.

“He was both.” And you can barely contain your laughter, almost snorting.

He is still at first, as if some invisible remote control has paused the whole scene, waiting for the oh, I’m kidding. When that moment passes, his eyebrows go up so high, his forehead fills with wrinkles. His jaw drops open and he actually looks shocked to the core, almost frightened.

“Both? BOTH?” he practically hovers over you in frustration. “So, emotionally unavailable and bad sex.” he says again, incredulous that someone like you would ever choose someone like your ex.

“Joel!” you chastise him, slapping him on the shoulder, looking around you to see if anyone has overheard your conversation.

Joel fake hisses at your fake hit and taunts you with his laugh.

You shake your head dismissively, “What can I say? You know me, I don’t go halfway, I go all the way.” you reply between laughs, pumping your fist in victory.

He shakes his head in mock despair, then looks down for a few seconds, as if he’s making his mind up for something and then up at you through his lashes. “Oh, baby,” he sighs, “you really need someone to take good care of you” his voice drops, his eyes still holding the amusement but there is a hunger behind his words.

You inhale sharply and then hold your breath as your brain fantasizes about him taking good care of you, right now. You stare at each other for a long time, as if there’s no one else around, and finally you break the silence. A slight anger begins to glimmer in your chest, but you try to push it down. “Well, no such luck on that front.” you drop the bait and see where it takes you.

He can’t say things like that and expect you to do nothing. A small glimmer of hope tries to climb over the uneasy feeling inside you. It sinks its claws into your heart, scratching at the surface of your well-hidden desire. Maybe this time he’ll take a chance on you. Maybe this time he will ask you. Maybe. You try to push that away as well.

“Maybe you should put yourself out there more.” There he is. He’s pulling back, again. It’s fucking exhausting. You know you should be more patient and see where this goes, but your anger is boiling fast, ready to pour out of every pore. He started it, so you might as well finish it.

“Unless, what I need is in here.” Please, please, don’t make me regret this. Over and over, like a mantra.

He swallows so hard you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing, his knuckles turning white around his beer bottle. His eyes keep darting between yours, searching for something.

“Pretty sure it’s not, if you know what’s good for you.” Did he just say that? Your pulse rises and you hold back the tears that tend to gather so easily at your waterline. How could he say that to you? But you recover quickly, he won’t see another drop of tears from you. Not ever again.

“What, you don’t like Marcus?”

“Who?” you see Joel’s body stiffen at the man’s name, his eyes frantically scanning yours for an answer and revenge never tasted better. You would say you were drunk on power if it weren’t for the damn beers.

“Marcus, Trish’s colleague from work, she introduced us tonight- well- not exactly, but- anyway.”, you dismiss your own comment by waving your hand in the air. “Maybe you’re right. I should start giving people a chance. Maybe I’ve waited long enough.” There’s someone interested in you. He’s interested in you and he’s shown it. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel the look of desire in someone’s eyes. But you’d rather it was Joel’s.

Check mate. His move now.

“Are you sure you want to lead with Marcus?” His voice full of mockery. “You don’t even know the guy.”

“Oh. So, let me get this straight.” you counter. “I should get myself out there and I should do it with someone I know. Let me think.” you take a deep breath and in that short time of in and out through your nose, you debate whether you should say it. Joel seems to catch up with what you’re thinking, raises his hand and purses his lips, but before he can speak-

Fuck it.

“Are you offering?” You ask playfully, with a saccharine smile. Sometimes you really wish you were not so direct. But you couldn’t deny the sweet satisfaction of nailing him to the wall, when you saw the look of mortification on his face. The time for regret would come, but it was not right fuckin’ now.

Joel is speechless, his eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes without a sound. He clearly thought you’d back down. Maybe he thought you liked this dancing around. Maybe he thought he had more time on his hands. Or maybe he didn’t expect you to finally confront him head-on. Still playful, but head-on.

He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. He starts to say something, but you don’t catch it because out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus approaching you quickly. If a higher power was listening tonight, it was focusing on the wrong part of the story.

Just before he enters your personal space and you excuse yourself, you linger slowly over Joel, touching his waist with one hand. You feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt and under your palm. You take your eyes off his and look at his plush lips as your face comes dangerously close to his. Your lips brush the space between his earlobe and his neck and you painfully accept this is probably the most you will ever have of Joel Miller. His breath hitches at the feel of your soft lips and the puff of air as you whisper in his ear, “Relax Joel, I wasn’t counting on you.”

That hurt.

previous |

[laiahernandeeezzz]

hi could u maybe write something about Florence bringing Y/n to a family gathering for the first time. They've been together for half a year and y/n being nervous. But then she befriends Florence's family especially Raffie, her mom and grandma. I am craving cute family fluff. And also the family members each secretly telling Flo that she choose a good one ? Thank youuu

I'm sorry for taking quite long, but inspiration had flown away for a while... I hope you like this

******

MEETING THE FAMILY

******

Paring: Florence Pugh x fem!reader

Words: 1.7K

******

“I don’t think this was a good idea” 

Florence stopped sweeping to look at her girlfriend. Y/n was cleaning the breakfast’s plates, they just used to eat some delicious pancakes the actress made for the occasion. 

“My love, we’ve been together for months now, why would you say that?” The blonde girl approached her, hugging her from behind, while Y/n leaned her body back to rest against Florence’s front. “Because, what if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m not good enough for you?” 

“Well, then I’ll tell them to fuck off, because I’m the one who’s dating you” Finally a smile appeared on the taller girl’s face. She turned to face the actress, quickly pecking her lips. “Are you sure?”

“I love you so so much, worry head” … “Now, let’s go!” Florence pulled away to go search for their bags, not forgetting to, slightly, hit her girlfriend’s butt, making her laugh. Both women got everything they needed and headed to the car, Billie, their dog also going with them. Oxford was their destination. 

******

Once they parked the car in front of Florence's childhood house, Florence made sure Y/n was ready. “Are you prepared, my darling?” Y/n nodded, releasing a shaken sigh. They headed to the door, and before knocking, the actress kissed her softly, holding her hand and leaving a kiss in her knuckles too.

As fast as they knocked, the door burst open, Billie running inside, and Y/n was pulled in a tight hug. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Florence has been talking to you non-stop”

“Okay, Raffie, I would like to keep my girlfriend alive” The youngest of the house let go of Y/n, to jump at her sister’s arms. Y/n smiled warmly at the scene, happy that the brunette seemed to already like her. “Come, mum is already preparing the table for lunch, and dad is cooking! You are going to love his food, it’s even better than Florence’s”

While Y/n laughed at Raffie’s comment, Florence gave her an offended scoff, as they entered the house, heading to the kitchen. Y/n kinda froze when she saw the full family getting everything prepared, only moving when a small warm hand was placed on her lower back. She looked at her side, seeing the loving stare her girlfriend had. Y/n knew that as long Florence’s family was a little like her, there shouldn’t be any problem. 

She first was welcomed by the other two siblings. Arabella hugged her shortly and told her she was so glad they met, much like what Raffie said to her, but a lot calmer. On the other hand, there was Toby, who made sure to embarrass her sister as much as he could. “Flo, you didn’t tell me she was so out of your league” or “I have so many embarrassing stories about her, whenever she told us about you, she would smile like an idiot and practically drool”.

“Leave them alone will you… The table still needs to be finished up” Y/n laugh, and Florence hugged tightly her mum, stepping aside, so her girlfriend could be properly introduced. “Mum, this is Y/n, my beautiful girlfriend”

Trying hard not to blush at Florence’s comment, she went to shake her mother-in-law's hand, only to, once again, be pulled into a warm embrace. This family loves to hug. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Pugh”

“Oh, none of that, call me Debs… Come, my husband’s still cooking” Deborah took Y/n hands, and Florence followed them smiling at how her both families got along. After talking a bit with her siblings, being teased by Toby and Raffie, she noticed that her girlfriend still hadn’t come out of the kitchen.

“Can I have my girlfriend back, or do you plan to keep her here for the rest of her life?” The picture in front of her almost made her tear up. Y/n and her mum were laughing at some of her dad’s jokes, sipping at her glass of wine. Florence knew it, but there were moments like these, where she became fully conscious about how desperately in love she was. It was soon, but she knew she wanted to marry that girl. 

“Flo! Your dad was telling me some stories when you were a baby” Groaning, she made her way to her girlfriend, stealing some of Y/n wine. “Hey, that’s mine” Florence laughed and kissed her quickly, “Yeah, well, what is yours is mine, you know”

“Don’t mess with her honey, you need to keep her, I like her” Y/n tried to not blush at Clinton’s words. “Food is ready, let’s eat!”. Holding Y/n back, Florence waited for her parents to leave the kitchen to kiss her girlfriend properly. 

“I think they like me?” Y/n said, while still receiving kisses. “They do like you, and I didn’t even doubt it for a second… I love you, my darling”

“I love you too” Before they could kiss one more time, Toby called for them from the living room, “Girl, stop hooking up, and come! We are hungry” Florence laughed as she took her girlfriend’s hand.

******

Lunch at the Pugh’s was quite funny to say the least. Conversation never stopped, hitting a hundred topics in five minutes. The food, obviously, was amazing and Y/n wasn’t surprised, knowing how Florence cooked. All the fears Y/n had that morning disappeared, feeling immensely welcomed and part of the family, even if she had just known them for a few hours.

She didn’t realize she had spaced out until she felt Florence’s hand on her thigh. “Are you okay, my love?” 

“Yes, I’m just taking it all in, I’m so happy” She pecked the actress’ lips, both girls not realizing the small smiles from everyone at the table. 

After a while, Florence asked, “Where is granny Pat?”. Y/n then thought that the blonde girl had told her that her grandma would be there. “Oh I’m sure she won’t be much longer” Deborah told them as she stood up to go search for the dessert. 

Only five minutes later the doorbell rang, and Florence quickly went to open it, excited to see her granny again after a while. Granny Pat, though, didn’t put much attention to her granddaughter standing in front of her, almost passing by. She simply patted her shoulder, as she went straight to the living room. “Where is my new granddaughter?”

Y/n quickly got up, and went to hug Florence’s grandma, “Hi, Mrs. Pugh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Florence has told me so much about you”. Y/n found the woman adorable, being so tiny, but full of life and joy. Granny Pat irradiated happiness.

“Oh, I hope all good things… But I must ask you to call me granny Pat, you are part of the family now” The whole family laughed, and went back to sitting when they had also greeted the oldest woman.

Florence started to tidy up the plates, Y/n following her, receiving a glance from her girlfriend daring her to stand up, so she abandoned her intentions. Instead, she was followed by her sibling, after being slightly scolded by her mother.

“So, quite the girl you got, huh” Toby said as soon as he stepped into the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I do”, The actress smiled fondly, a warm feeling setting in her chest every time she thought of the girl. Her sisters approached her to give her a hug, also giving their opinions. 

Arabella was the mature one, “You look so in love, and I’m so happy you got someone who also loves you as much as you do”. On the other hand, Raffie, was more teasing, “She is nice, funny and gorgeous, you better keep an eye on her, because everyone will try to steal her from you” 

Florence thanked her older sister, and then slapped her younger one. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on losing her ever”

******

After doing small talk at the table a bit more time, the family decided to go for a walk, Billie needing to do her need was also used as an excuse. Raffie quickly laced her arm with Y/n’s and both girls started to talk happily, laughing at their jokes. They quickly were quite ahead of the family, followed by the men of the house, and lastly the four women left. 

“You found a good one” Florence glanced at her mom’s comment, a smile, once again, was drawn in her face. 

“I found the best one”, she agreed, not hesitating for even one second. She knew pretty well, she’d never find another one like her girlfriend, knowing she wanted to stay with her for the rest of her life. 

“You better take care of her, or I’ll come after you” Granny Pat also made herself part of the conversation. 

Florence feigned offence, a hand on her chest to make it more dramatic, “Whose granny are you?”. The four women laughed, Arabella accelerating her pace to go talk with her dad and brother, shaking her head while smiling at the other’s small bickering. 

Granny Pat, however, insisted, “I don’t care, she is part of this family now too”. Florence kissed her gran’s temple, as she looked ahead seeing her girlfriend looking back at her, signalling her to come next to her.

The actress excused herself, and jogged to meet her girlfriend at her side. Raffie looked at them and started running, calling Billie to play with her. “What were you talking about back there?” Y/n asked, taking Florence’s hand. 

“You”

“Good things?” Y/n was confident she had made a good impression, but she couldn’t avoid worrying a bit. In spite of that, as she saw Florence’s loving eyes, she immediately relaxed.

“All great… They love you, but not as much as I do”

“I love you more, Flo” The girls softly kissed, it wasn’t long, the whole family was able to see them, although only the youngest had something to say about it.

“Get a room!” Y/n laughed as Florence flipped her sister off. 

[yeahtimesten]

the summer after high school - pt. 1

patrick zweig x reader x art donaldson

summer break is what you look forward to all year, when your best friend, art donaldson, is back home with his family. the summer after graduation, he brings patrick zweig with him as well. you three are determined to have the best summer ever, before starting college.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of under 21 years of age drinking and smoking marijuana, profanity, mentions of semi-nudity/undergarments

Imagine growing up living next door to your best friend, but you really only get to spend part of your summer breaks with him. Well, you don’t have to imagine, that’s your reality actually.

While Art Donaldson was studying at Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy, you attended a local private school, stuck in your hometown. You longed for winter and summer break every year, when Art would come home and spend time with you and accompany you on your little adventures around town. Even then, with tennis practice, his schedule was spread thin, so you tried to make every second count.

Two nights ago was your high school graduation, his four nights ago. Usually, he’s flown in the first night of break starting, but you cut him some slack as you figured he’d have a school-hosted grad party and he had to pack every single one of his belongings this time to come home with. Still, you couldn’t imagine that he’d take this long to return home. And he wasn’t responding to any of your texts. You could have asked his parents, they were really close with your family, but they were so stressed getting their house together ready for his return as well as preparing for another graduation party, that was to be held to celebrate both of you with friends and family. You didn’t have the nerve to bother them.

Something in your gut told you he’d be home tonight and you waited up hours past your typical bedtime reading, listening to CDs, watching reruns of Lost. You even sat at your computer and typed an angry email.

Art,

Congrats grad! Where the fuck are you? Where do you get off? I’ve texted you 5 times since finals week. I’ve endured weeks of your mom showing me hauls of the new Stanford merchandise she’s purchased for you. What, you’re just going to ignore me? You’re not going to show up to your own grad party? You’re going to leave me alone all summer to spend time in your cushy living room painting your little sister’s nails and braiding her hair? Okay, not that that’s all that bad, I love your sister, but still. Fine then, throw away a lifetime of friendship with the coolest girl in the neighborhood. You’ll rue the day.$&:&3$:skehehxhseyurhreheb

You could have told him off for ages, but you fell asleep at your desk, arms resting against the keys of your laptop, drool dripping down your cheek. Suddenly, you heard familiar dings on your window. They weren’t very loud, but after hearing a few, it woke you up. Pebbles were being thrown your way. You lifted your head, feeling groggy and still fatigued. The laptop clock read 1:23 AM. You groaned as you got up and stretched, wiping the drool off your mouth with the back of your hand.

You sulked to the window, pulling back the curtains and lifting the window upwards to open. Across the way, blonde tendrils poked out of his own window, as an arm got ready to shoot another rock your way, but he looked up at you and flashed a dazzling smile at your presence. But, anger and annoyance still plagued you.

“What do you want, Donaldson?” You scowled, with your arms crossed over your chest. His smile faltered.

“Let’s go to the lake,” Art proposed.

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re literally talking to me right now,” Art laughed at you.

“I’m mad at you,” you huffed.

“Listen, y/n/n, I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. I got wrapped up in finals and submitting files and paperwork for my contract with Stanford. And we’ve spent the last 24 hours at the airport with a flight delay. Please, let’s go to the lake.”

Your expression softened, but you were still all puffed up and red. Until it dawned on you. “We?”

“Hey, y/n,” Patrick popped into frame.

You looked down and blushed, your face now totally betraying your tough demeanor. You had only spent two previous summers and one Christmas break with him. He’d probably have spent more of his free time with the Donaldson family, if Patrick’s parents allowed it. But, they felt Art was a bad influence (lol) and wanted their son to focus on more important things. Anyways, you always had a small crush on him growing up and you found it difficult to hide.

“Come on, meet us out front with your bike and we’ll ride to the lake,” Art pleaded.

“We have a surprise,” Patrick chimed in with a smirk.

Though you didn’t will it, your lips curled into a smile as you looked off, defeated.

“Fine. Give me five minutes, I’ll be right down there. And don’t be too loud outside. Your parents would sleep through a thunderstorm but mine wont.”

Art shook his head and closed his window, and you did the same. You started scrambling around, brushing your hair in your mirror, throwing on an oversized hoodie and running shorts, socks, and your dirty worn out pair of converse. Your contacts were out for the night so you grabbed your glasses and headed out the door.

You jogged down your long drive way and grabbed your bike from its place against the fence as you head off your property. The two boys sat on their bikes waiting towards you. Rocks and leaves crunched under your bike tires, greeting them and letting them know of your presence. They turned to look at you, but the three of you remained silent, as you requested. A simple thumbs up from you let them know you were ready to head out. You peddled slow as you reached further from the house down the road.

Vineyard country was beautiful. The homes were large and rustic, with big bulbed string lights dawning almost every house. It lit the way, as you sped up and whirred by greenery and shrub lining the pathway. Maybe you were a tad jealous your best friend was off at a gorgeous countryside boarding school, studying in a beautiful classic brick and mortar that looked like it came straight out of a book. But, where you lived was quite beautiful, and truthfully made for the best scenery in your teenage years.

The three of you took the typical path into the woods where this beautiful lake was tucked away. The sound of frogs and crickets filled the air and fireflies twinkled in the night. You took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of mildew and algae as you dropped your bike into the grass and leaves.

Art coughed. “So, no hug?” You turned towards him with a small smile, practically running towards him and leaping into his arms.

“Oh, Art, I missed you,” you cooed, as he twirled you around. “And Patrick, hiiii, welcome back.” You hugged him too, and he lifted you off the ground in a great big bear hug. “Soooo, how was graduation? What shenanigans did you two get into this year? Tell me everything!”

Patrick and Art turned and smirked at each other, unable to keep their secret for much longer.

“But first, don’t you wanna see your surprise,” Patrick asked in a sultry and mischievous voice. You raised your eyebrow at in in intrigue, matching his cheeky smile. Smoothly, he whipped out a long crooked and wrinkled white cone from his pocket. “We brought you a joint!”

The three of you sat in a triangle near the edge of the dock passing around the joint and a beer they got their hands on.

“And then, Art just hops onto the table, pantses himself, and starts shaking his butt like a treat in front of a hungry dog,” Patrick muses, holding back bouts of laughter.

You’re barely holding back you own, and Art has his head down in his hands from shame.

“No fucking way,” you say, shaking your head.

“But then, get this,” he continues. “A big ass bird swoops down by his head - they mistook his hair for straw they could steal for a nest - and he got so scared he fall off the table and damn near face planted into dog shit. We were both so hungover the next day, Art woke up late, and we missed our flight.”

“Oh! So, there was no flight delay, you missed your flight,” you caught on, smirking. “You’re such a dirty liar.”

“No, no. Our flight was delayed, because we woke up late,” Art defended. “I technically didn’t lie.”

“Whatever, you know what that implies,” you teased. “Way to try to dodge accountability, though.”

“It was more so Patrick’s fault than mine! He kept forcing me to do shots! He had me do a beer bong!”

“Whatever, I don’t believe you. You really expect me to buy this ridiculous story?”

“You really think Art isn’t capable of letting loose like that?”

“Letting loose? Maybe. But that’s a whole other ball park. You on the other hand, I could totally picture you doing this,” you pointed to Patrick.

Art holds his hands up to you, palms scraped and bruised. His face was shy, a tad embarrassed upon showing you the proof of his foolishness.

“Oh…”

“Do you believe me now?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You grab his palms and hold them in front of you on your lap, inspecting the injury. “Ow, Jesus, Art… Isn’t it going to hurt, y’know, holding your tennis racket?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I mean, it doesn’t feel great closing and opening my fists, but it won't keep me from playing.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re good then.” You smiled at him. He met your eyes and shared a crooked smile back.

The three of you kept talking. About summer plans, your impending college experiences, your graduation. You told them you graduated as your class valedictorian, had a phenomenal speech, wore this gorgeous powder blue dress that snagged in the crook of a folding chair and ripped. Art’s parents were there for you and gave you the biggest hug after, they even held up little cardboard signs of your face. They told you Art was supposed to be there but he got held up at his boarding school.

“God, it’s fucking humid out here,” Patrick said, fanning the neck of his shirt. “I forgot how hot it gets out here.”

“There’s a lake right there,” you pointed. “Jump in!”

The lake wasn’t really a lake, it was a large pond, technically. More shallow than a lake, the sunlight still reached the bottom floor of the body of water. Many summer days and nights were spent there. It was the typical meet up spot for the three, or even just Art and you when Patrick wasn’t visiting as well. And besides that, plenty of barbecues and Fourth of July parties were spent there too. It wasn’t that deep in the little forrest at the inner edge of your neighborhood. It was a precious marked spot in your memories.

Patrick looked at you and shrugged, standing up and stripping down to his boxers. His lean and muscular body practically sparkled in the moonlight. His arms and thighs looked bigger than the last time you saw him. At first, he hesitated, looking at the water. You thought he was waiting for you to say you were just kidding, but you weren’t gonna. He leaped in front of him, somersaulting in the air, cannonballing into the water bellow him. He emerged to the surface, arms crossing his chest and holding onto his biceps as he shivered.

“You coolin’ off?” Art laughed with you at his friend.

“Get in here, cool down with me,” Patrick smirked. You shook your head at the boys tomfoolery. Moments like this are what you missed during the school year.

Art started stripping down too, his body more lean, way more pale, but still just as attractive. You couldn’t ignore that your best friend was pretty good looking as well, you had stolen plenty of glances when he wasn’t aware.

He ran off the dock, flailing about, penetrating the water with his butt. A beat happened, and he hadn’t resurfaced. Just as you started to worry, though, his top half thrashed out of the water, shaking out his long blond hair.

“Fuck, it is sorta cold in here,” he said, joining his friend in shivering.

“What if I just took your clothes and left you here,” you laughed. If only you were a superhero who could manage taking their clothes and bikes. You’d be waiting at the end of Art’s drive way, watching them walk up soaked in lake water and freezing.

“No, it’s your turn,” Patrick said. “Get in. Join us, y/n.”

“What the hell,” you said. “No. I just have my chonies on underneath this.”

They both looked at you with big wide bug eyes.

“We’re not wearing swimsuits either,” Art exclaimed.

It’s totally different, you thought. They wouldn’t understand, but even if they did, they didn’t care.

The two looked at you, you looked at them, tapping your foot on the wooden deck.

“Okay. Fine,” you gave in. “Turn around.” The boys sighed and rolled their eyes, but turned their bodies around anyways. You began to strip down; your shoes and socks off, hoodie and shorts next, then your glasses folded neatly on top of your pile of garments. Now you stood in a pinkish tan set: ruffled bralette and lacy boy-shorts.

You dolphin dove into the water, swimming out a couple feet farther than the guys. The splash sprinkled on top their heads, and they opened their scrunched up eyes to see you in front of them.

“It’s not that bad,” you regard the temperature of the water.

Patrick splashed you, you back, then Art joined on the fun. The air is filled with the three of your giggles and you are content. This is what you longed for every school year. To spend your summer vacation with your best friends.

a/n: hi guys! here is the first part of a new series i’m writing. i was between using an original character or using y/n but when i have an original character i get way too in the lore and details in an unnecessary way and i wanted to be more inclusive in the fandom. here and there might be some specific descriptors on like how the character looks or what she wears, i am not used to writing ‘readers’ so im sorry if it’s not entirely inclusive! personally, i love to link outfit photos of what she’s wearing but i'll try not to go into actual detail of what she’s wearing, so feel free to ignore whatever i have her dressed as!!!! dividers by - @/chachachannah

[moody4world]

All for you

A/N: birthday fic for my babyyy and apparently my first fluff for him too

I’ve been with Urban for about two years now almost three and it’s one of the best things that’s happened to me. Of course at first I was skeptical about his true intentions when he slid in my dm about 7 years ago asking if I wanted to do a photoshoot with him and his friends claiming that it was for a school project. I was gonna ignore it but then he offered to pay me and listen, what broke 17 year old would turn down some quick money? The photoshoot actually ended up being a lot of fun and that’s how I became friends with all of them.

Urban and I kept in contact the most out of all the other friends in our circle and as we got older our feelings became less platonic. However, i’m pretty sure he always liked me that way. He won’t admit it but i’m sure he did. Today was Urby’s birthday so I made sure I had everything planned out for him. Throughout our friendship and relationship he’s been so amazing to me and always caters to my needs no matter the time, no matter the place. It only felt right to absolutely spoil him on his 25th birthday. What better way to start his special day than some birthday morning head followed by some breakfast in bed?

After getting ready for his little birthday outing with his friends it was time for him to go. “Baby are you sure you can’t come with us?” I may or may not have lied about having an important work meeting to attend but in reality i took the day off so I could dedicate it to him. This whole day was my idea and this boy had no clue. “Yes i’m sure Urb you know how my boss gets” His plump bottom lip immediately started to jut out trying to persuade me to change my mind. “Stop that, if i’m done early, i’ll see where you guys are and i’ll come meet up with y’all. Does that sound good?” I asked him. “Would be better if you could just come with me but i’ll take what I can get. Speaking of things I can get, imma need a kiss before I leave” and he did not have to ask twice.

As soon as Urban was out of the house I started cleaning up the whole house, got ready and went out to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers along with some groceries to prepare our special dinner, candles and fresh flower petals.

Right when I was adding the last details to the dinner table my phone started buzzing indicating that someone was calling me. Once I grabbed my phone to pick up I noticed it was Urban. “Hey birthday boy, enjoying your day so far?” “ Yeah i’m not gonna lie I am, i’m actually on my way home right now to wait for you” “Okay baby I think I accidentally left the door unlocked cause I was rushing so if you can hurry home before anything happens that’d be great” “On it, alright i’ll see you when you get there” “I love you” “I love you too baby”

I got dressed as fast as I could and headed back downstairs just in time to see Urban walk through the door. His face twisted from confusion to his big adorable smile when he stepped on something only to realize that it was a pathway full of rose petals leading him to the dining table decorated in more petals and beautiful plates and candles. He looks up at me in adoration as I welcome him into my arms. “Happy birthday once again baby” I say to him as he sways me side to side in his tight grip. He pulls away and I hand him a nice flower bouquet and I could’ve sworn he was holding back tears. “You did all of this for me?” “All for you, love of mine” I answered as I nodded proudly. “You even got the jazz music going in the background I see you” “Only the best for my man, now let’s eat” “You don’t gotta tell me twice”

Once we were done eating we just sat and talked about his day and other things under the sun with my hand in his. “You’re so amazing you know that?” “You tell me often but your face is red as fuck right now you know that?” We both couldn’t help but laugh at his bashfulness. 7 years of knowing each other and we’ve been dating for 2 of those years yet we still had each other giggling and swinging our feet. “When the guys caught me stalking your instagram 7 years ago and dared me to dm you I did not expect us to end up here”

“So you DID have a crush on me since then!”

“I’m finally admitting the truth” He put his hands up defensively for a couple seconds only to hold your hands again right after.

“I got you one more gift” I bit my lips nervously not sure how he was going to react. Urban could feel my palm getting clammy in his. “You’re pregnant?” “I- what?! no” “Well damn it wouldn’t be that bad would it?” We couldn’t help but laugh at the turn the sentimental moment took. “No but seriously I really hope you like it…and….I hope you don’t get mad at me for getting you this gift” “Why would I get mad at a gift from you?” I only stared at him as I could see the gears in his brain starting to turn until an invisible light bulb went on. He seemed hesitant to say his guesses tho so it was only right I tell him what it is. I walk to the kitchen counter picking up a small gift box on top of it. Urban pulled his chair out from under the table beckoning me to come sit sideways on his lap and so I do.

With his arm around my waist and the other hand resting on my thighs I hand him the small box. “There’s no way this is what I think it is” He looked genuinely shocked without even opening it yet. “Well there’s only one way to find out” I shrugged. He opens the box and sees a familiar set of keys that he’s engraved in his memory for at least three years now. “No way” his jaw seemed to have lost its comprehension of remaining closed as he looked up at me in a way to confirm that his thoughts on what these keys are were true. All I could do was laugh at his reactions as I nodded to give him the confirmation he needed. “Yeah I got you the studio you wanted, no more paying other places to develop all those photos you be taking” Before I could say anything else I was pulled into a rib crushing hug and a chorus of “thank you’s” and “I love you’s” “I can’t believe you did this for me” He gave me a heated kiss that described all his emotions that words couldn’t. With our foreheads on each other’s I kissed his nose and say “All for you, love of mine”

urbanwyatt

Louisville, Kentucky

Liked by jackharlow and 8.333 others

urbanwyatt if we locked in, ain’t no switchin up. one of my best birthdays yet thanks to this one, almost got down on one knee when @yngotit pulled out that bouquet 😮‍💨

happy birthday to our baee

@harlowsbby

@heavyhitterheaux

@softtcurse

@nattinatalia

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@urbussy

and every other urban girly reading this🫶🏾

[sealhaus]

If nobody’s asked then I guess I should just speak:

My thoughts on kfp 4 so far as someone who’s been so invested in this franchise most of my life to the point where I took 2 autism assessments about it.

Mostly euphoric tbh, mostly because now the weight waiting for it held on my anxiety and heartburn ridden chest is gone. My socks were knocked off but i didn’t have to be hospitalized.

For most of my time in this fandom (or pandom if ur even more insufferable then usual) I’ve been under the assumption that dreamworks doesn’t really care about this franchise while at the same time knowing in my bones they’d make more. For most of that time I was pretty set on just having my own fun with it and that’s still my plan.

I’ve been so detached from the cannon for so long that I’ve entirely accepted that this movie could be garbage, I’ve already coped with that like 3 years ago. So I’ve had a relatively chill reaction.

So far it’s like exactly what I expected from the plot summary for better and for worse.

• I dislike Zhen so far but we’ll see what the writing has in store for her, she could be partially redeemed. Her design is overall lackluster and could really use something to make it more interesting. Her personality reminds me of the betta version of Kyoko before I had her loose her fuckin marbles. I don’t like her much but I also don’t seriously want to rip her apart with my teeth quite yet.

• I’ve never liked the five much, except for tigress, but it’s also kinda weird that they aren’t there. But the reasoning being that they basically ditched Po is hilarious to me. It’s a total copout but. Good for them honestly.

• I LOVE THE CHAMELEON!!!!! SHE LOOKS LIKE A BRONZE VASE AND YZMA HAD A TERRIBLE LITTLE CRACK BABY AND ITS WONDERFUL!!!! Getting ready to defend her with my life, heaven forbid women have hobbies.

• also my husband is coming home from rotting in Gongmen harbor so that’s fucking lovely. I went to bed and cried while hugging my Shen plushie because I’m absolutely deranged so that’s exactly the reaction I wanted.

• overall I don’t really care what happens to Po because I genuinely want to hit him with a car./hj But it seems a little early for this unless we’ve got a big time skip which it seems like is the case, but I still don’t think it’s enough of a timeskip.

• I hope the five get new outfits when they show up for 5 minutes. I just like clothes…

• I hope Shifu says sorry for accidentally ruining his son’s life. I don’t care too much about Tai Lung redemption, but I think he deserves an apology.

• save us Nico Marlet we miss you.

I was fully prepared for this to be a nightmare level shitshow but I don’t think it’s total garbage. At worse I’ll laugh at it with my friends, at best it’s a masterpiece either way I’ll be going into cardiac arrest

I don’t want to completely trash it because it hurts me a little for some reason and I don’t think it deserves it but I’m more then open to some playful mockery.

It did knock my socks off but I didn’t need to be hospitalized. Mostly feeling vindicated because my visions prophesied all of this actually.

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter Ten

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

He's so pretty in this gif omg

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), mentions of virginity and mental struggles, swearing

Enjoy this last bit of sweetness because the angst is coming soon and lasting for several chapters.

Presley

Colson and I burst out of the courthouse in a flurry of laughter and kisses.

We can’t keep our hands off each other. He’s got an arm around my waist as we stumble down the steps of the courthouse and onto the sidewalk. Sam is already there waiting to take pictures before we meet our friends for dinner. Hopefully he’s prepared for lots of candids because I’m not sure I can keep my hands off my husband.

My husband.

A year ago I was in such a dark place. The longer I stayed a single virgin, the more I grew to hate myself. I felt at a complete standstill, unsure of how my life could ever change. Cash had already left to work with the band and I felt like I had no one. Cash had no idea just how much he changed my life by asking me to visit.

Colson and I have been through so much in the short time we’ve been together. It’s a little scary to think that we haven’t even known each other for a year and now we’re married, but my parents got engaged on their third date and were married within the space of three months. They’re still annoyingly in love, so why can’t it be the same thing for me and Colson?

We allow Sam to take some pictures, doing our best to follow his instructions when all we want to do is make out, and when we’re done, we all get ready to head over to our reception dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. Cash and Olivia take her car and Colson and I climb into his. 

Colson takes my hand when he starts driving and I take a moment to admire my husband. His cheeks are flushed pink, a sign that he’s happy, and his eyes are bright. I’ve never seen him smile so much before. I love his smile. I lean over and kiss his cheek. “You’re my husband,” I tell him.

Colson chuckles and turns his head for a chaste kiss. “You’re my wife. Holy fuck.” I groan a little when he turns back to watch the road. Colson laughs amusedly and squeezes my hand. “What’s the matter?”

“Can we make a pit stop?” I ask.

Brow furrowed, Colson glances at me, but when he understands what I’m asking, his face smooths out and he smirks. Wordlessly, he veers onto a side street so quickly that I squeal, getting tossed around in my seat a little, but I’m laughing. In fact, my face hurts from smiling and laughing so much. Colson parks the car in a deserted parking lot. The rain held off until after our pictures, but now the sky is dark and rain falls in sheets around our car.

“Get over here, wife,” Colson says, his eyes dark as they fall on me. I shiver at the way he’s looking at me. I keep my eyes on his as I hike up my dress enough to remove my panties. Colson bites back a growl, watching as I slide the nude lace down my legs and leave them on the floor. He helps me to climb over the console and straddle his lap. 

“Just realized you came prepared,” I say, grinning against his lips. He’s driving his most spacious car today, a Range Rover. 

“Mm, that I did,” Colson says with a smirk. He brushes his lips against mine. “I knew my wife would want me to fuck her in the car.”

I shiver at his words and push my hands gently into his hair. I don’t want to mess it up too much, but I need to feel every inch of him. We’ll have time for more later, but for now, I need to indulge myself just a little. 

Colson sighs as I lean in and kiss his neck, goosebumps breaking out on his soft skin as I do. I inhale his scent, the one that’s such a comfort to me. Colson’s hands wander my back slowly, sliding down over my ass teasingly before he takes his hands off me altogether. “Think you can get in the back without getting out of the car?” he asks me, and I nod. 

I practically throw myself into the backseat and Colson laughs as I struggle to shimmy my lower body onto the bench seat, my dress restraining my movements slightly. Once I’m settled onto my back, Colson’s lanky body follows and he hovers over me, kissing me hard. I can’t help but moan, pulling him closer. “God, I love this suit,” I say breathily between kisses, sliding my hands over the pale pink material. “You’re so gorgeous, Cols.”

“Mm, this dress,” Colson grunts, gripping at the fabric where it’s bunched up around my hips slightly. “You’re so beautiful. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Legally,” I remind him with a smile, and his smile is wide and joyous and so stunning. I want to stare at him forever, but at the same time, I’m so wet it’s bound to get on my dress and I don’t really want to ruin the material. “Colson,” I breathe, reaching for the button on his pants. He gets the idea and quickly unbuttons and unzips his pants, shoving them just below his ass, along with his boxer briefs.

Together, we hike my dress up enough to reveal me to him. Colson groans softly and slides a hand over my thigh before lifting it to press against his waist. He lowers his body to mine, the tip of his cock brushing against my clit, and I whimper. “Presley Baker,” Colson murmurs, his soft lips grazing mine. “I love you.” And then, as he seals his lips over mine, he adjusts his hips and slides inside of me. 

The pleasure of him when he’s first inside of me is heady and unreal. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the fact that I can do this so easily, so willingly. I want him constantly and I don’t have to be shy about it because he wants me just as much. I let out a shaky breath as I cling to my husband, his hips rocking slowly against mine, a current lapping against the shoreline.

Our mouths don’t separate the entire time. Whether we’re kissing or just breathing, we stay close. Colson’s fingers are intertwined with mine and my free hand glides from up under his shirt down to cup his ass. He props himself up with an arm beside my head, almost like he’s sheltering me, and I’ve never felt safer than I do in Colson’s presence. 

I kiss him desperately as my lower belly starts to knot up, whimpers falling from my lips. It still shocks me how easily he can make me come, but I know part of it is how dizzyingly in love with him I am. He’s all I think about, all I want. 

Colson pants against my lips, letting go of my hand to slip his fingers between us and find my clit. I suck in a breath, going tense beneath him as each rotation of his middle finger draws me closer and closer to the inevitable crash, the shove over the cliff. When my climax hits, I close my eyes in rapture, head tipping back as raw, desperate sounds leave me. There’s nothing like coming with his huge cock so snugly within me, fitting perfectly. 

When I come to, everything is fuzzy but so perfect, and Colson takes my hand again. “Cols,” I say, voice thready. “I love you so much.”

Colson groans, a tortured sound, his brow knitted together as his hips collide with mine quicker now. “Fuck, I love you, too,” he manages through gritted teeth. Veins pop in his neck and his hips stutter against mine as his mouth falls open. “Fuck, Pres, I’m gonna c-come…”

I grip the back of his neck and hold his face close to mine, kissing him hard and nipping gently at his bottom lip. “Come inside me,” I demand hastily. “Want to feel you all night. You’re all mine.”

“Jesus fuuuuck,” Colson groans, forehead pressing to mine as the first hot ropes of his cum fill me up. His eyes close and he shudders hard, squeezing my hand as he ruts against me, riding it out. He’s breathing hard when the tension finally melts from his body. I’m panting, too, my hand still at the nape of his neck, gently stroking his hair. 

Colson looks into my eyes, and his eye contact is so intense that it almost startles me. Usually, he’s hazy and sleepy after sex, so this intense eye contact surprises me. “Presley,” he says, voice gravelly. 

“Col?” I inquire, brow furrowing a little.

He sighs and presses a kiss to my cheek. “You’ll never know how perfect you are for me, baby,” he murmurs. I melt beneath him and pull him in for another long kiss.

We take our sweet time coming down and cleaning up. Before taking off, we kiss again, Colson back in the front seat and me in the passenger seat. I know our friends are waiting for us so I reluctantly pull back. Colson smiles at me and drives us back into town where our reception is taking place.

When we walk in late, no one is surprised but everyone is happy and they all cheer for us. It’s surreal, having the people I love here to celebrate our marriage. I didn’t know most of these people a year ago and now they’re some of the most important people in my life. 

After the reception, Colson and I go home and fuck like we did when we first got together. After the third time, we’re both soaked in sweat and barely conscious, our hands the only parts of us that are touching. I hold up my hands in a time-out motion. “Alright, I give in,” I manage breathlessly.

“How many orgasms did you have tonight?” Colson asks, equally as breathless.

“Counting the sex we had in the car before the reception?” I ask. “I lost count. At least eight.”

“There is nothing left in my balls,” Colson rasps and I can’t help but giggle. 

“There was nothing left in your balls two times ago,” I remark.

Colson laughs and rolls his head to look over at me, and fuck, I could almost go again. I’m insatiable, thanks to my husband. 

As the fan cools our sweat-soaked skin, I slide over to Colson and he takes me in his arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We got married today,” he murmurs as he maneuvers a blanket over our trembling bodies.

“Yesterday,” I correct. “It’s almost four in the morning.”

“Let me have this,” Colson teases, pinching my ass. I’m so sensitive from everything we’ve done that I whimper a little and Colson snorts. “Jesus. Still?”

“Always,” I answer simply.

Colson is quiet before tipping my chin up and kissing me. “I’ve never been so happy in my entire goddamn life,” he mumbles. “Thanks to you.”

“Same,” I agree, pressing closer and kissing him again. Finally, I sigh and pull back, rolling onto my side. Colson follows, wrapping me in his arms, and kisses my shoulder. 

“Goodnight, my wife,” Colson murmurs against my skin and despite how exhausted I am, I smile. 

“Goodnight, my husband,” I murmur. I’m so beyond happy. Everything is so fucking blissful. 

Until it isn’t.

Taglist:@triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree

[henrys-wee-hen]

No-one Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 27

This one might be the end. It might not. I'm going to go back and re-read everything, because believe it or not, I wrote this without a plan at all.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/127886374

Teddy was indeed a man of his word. He did fuck my brains dumb, and then he fed me, and then he took a hold of me in ways I didn’t think I’d ever been taken hold in. Of? See, I told you – he fucked me dumb. So dumb that I still apparently can’t form a full, coherent sentence.

The morning after was when Teddy relented. He woke me up with rather minty morning breath, and then – asking full consent before he did so – slipped his hand down my stomach and turned me right on again. He woke me slowly, with kisses everywhere he could reach before he rolled on top of me and slid himself into me easily… because of course, with the morning haze, I was fully prepared and ready for him. I must have fallen asleep again (or he’d knocked me clean out again), because I woke up a little while later to the smell of waffles, and the sound of plates clinking.

I made my way into the bathroom and took a shower already, then dressed comfortably for the day. I padded quietly through to the kitchen, and found that the double doors to the roof top terrasse were open. I felt a faint trickle of guilt slip down into my stomach. We hadn’t really used the roof terrasse after Teddy’s incident… but since Teddy had done something to me for months, I realised I couldn’t be sure of any single memory I had of him. So, I made my way out there, and found Teddy on the phone, surveying his empire.

“Sure. Call me when it’s done.” He passed a hand over his hair and sighed. A young woman in a cleaning-type apron was setting a breakfast out. Just two seats at the table overlooking Teddy’s little slice of the world which he controlled. I felt like baby Simba watching Mufasa work his kingdom. Everything the light touches is yours… well, I knew everything the light still shone on in my brain was mine… but for the rest? All shadowy dark areas I had no idea about at all. “I know, but I can’t be there today. I promised (Y/N) we could talk for a bit about stuff, and I don’t know how it’s gonna fucking go. I think you can handle a couple runners, Mack, come on.” Teddy put the phone down after a moment.

The woman gestured for me to sit.

“No habla inglese,” she said a little meekly. I nodded, and took a seat.

“Gracias,” I murmured. She smiled pleasantly, and when I continued in Spanish (albeit rudimentary Spanish), she broke into a full grin. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m (Y/N). I’m married to Teddy.” I had forgotten the Spanish for spouse.

“I know who you are.” She bowed her head. “Would you like some coffee? Or tea? I am just waiting for the hot food to cook.”

“Please,” I said. Teddy was watching me. “Have you worked for Teddy long?”

“Yes.” She picked up an insulated pot and poured me a cup of coffee. “Many years. But you were either sleeping, or out when I come to clean. I don’t speak English, you see, so Mr Lobo always asked me to come and clean when you were out.” She served me some berries, and some other fruits. I thanked her again. “But you were also sleeping a lot. So I did not disturb you.”

“Right…” I sipped my coffee. “What is your name?”

“Monica,” she smiled.

“Monica here is an absolute angel,” Teddy said, in near-perfect Spanish. But for the soft American twang he had when he spoke, I’d have thought he was Spanish. “She’s really done a lot for me over the years. She works hard, she’s reliable and trustworthy… and she’s an excellent cook, too. Always finds the best berries.” Teddy took a seat and helped himself to the berries.

“Gracias, Senor Lobo,” Monica smiled.

“How’re you feeling, beautiful?” He switched to English. Monica took it as her cue to leave us and check on the food.

“Oh, I’m beautiful now?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“You always were.”

“Funny. Yesterday morning, you couldn’t stand me being needy.”

“Because you were being fucking needy. Now you’re not. You’re all cute –“

“You mean you’ve finally had a decent fuck and you’re feeling benevolent.”

“Put those claws away, sweetheart.” Teddy’s eyes flashed annoyance, but like an adult dog with a puppy, he let it slide with a small warning. “Or I won’t be feeling so benevolent…”

“Got it.” I looked around as Teddy poured himself some coffee. “First thing I really want to know is whether you actually did nearly throw yourself off the roof that day.” Teddy looked at me as he took a sip.

“Well…” He sighed. “What do you remember?”

“I remember you were coming off the coke, and you climbed up on the railing and slipped, because it was raining. And I grabbed you and hauled you in.”

“Huh. Right.” He set his cup down. “Not entirely what happened. But I’ll get to that.”

“Go on, then.”

“Let’s wait for Monica to bring the food. Then I’ll tell you everything while we eat.”

Teddy

In a way, Teddy had been waiting for this day to come. The day that (Y/N) would finally crack that what had actually happened, versus that beautiful perception of an addled, swimming brain. And indeed, the two were not entirely joined together. In fact, there was a lot of stuff that (Y/N) remembered just plain wrongly, rather than slightly off. Teddy ate a little quicker than (Y/N), so he ate his fill, then replenished his coffee.

“I’ll start from the beginning, ‘kay?” (Y/N) gave a nod, eating quietly.

Teddy took a breath in, leaning back. He turned his phone on silent, and placed it into his pocket. He stretched, and got himself comfy.

“When we were in the restaurant that day, I was on an enforcement job. Run of the mill, you know? We were there, me and the lads, because the people running it hadn’t paid up in a while, and one of the lads thought there was a mole. And a couple days before, I found out that one of my guys was the cousin of one of the restaurant owners, and they’d been selling intel on us for a decent price, and then paying us to keep them safe. Meaning, keep their guy on the team. So I went over there to shake ‘em up a bit, and it got a little zany.

“I didn’t plan on kidnapping you, (Y/N). But when I saw you, I wanted to scare the shit out of you. But I also knew that, since I’d publicly killed your friend, and your body wouldn’t be found in the fray, that any rival gang would be out to get you. They’d be out for blood. Because you’d have seen things that day, and if the Sandersons had been selling info to more than one other family, they’d assume you knew shit. So, I had to keep you safe. But I also really wanted to break you down and make you part of our team. My mom and I understood that you were great at your job. Smart, clever, intelligent, and a good analyst. You would be very good on our team. But for that, we needed to turn you. I needed to turn you, honestly, mom wasn’t gonna do a fucking thing. But yeah. I know how to break people, and I did manage to break you pretty nicely.

“Once I had you wanting me, it was easy enough to start manipulating you. I put you on a light dosage of ketamine, to keep you a little pliable. I knew over the months – or weeks, I originally thought, but you didn’t fucking relent so it became months – I knew that you’d need higher doses, but I didn’t wanna have you addicted to it. So I kept your doses low, and sometimes skipped ‘em altogether. And in the end, you didn’t need any. I stopped dosing you completely recently.” He pressed his lips together, watching me eat for a second. “You didn’t make any moves to leave, aside from the fact that you thought my behaviour had changed outright. It hadn’t.” He took a moment to eat some of the food on his plate.

“Truth is, (Y/N), I wanted you for a shit long fucking time. And I wanted you on your knees and I wanted you to be yourself, your good little self... but those two together can’t exist. So I had to pick one. I wanted you to want me more than anything.” He drank some coffee and sat back, making it clear he wasn’t going to add anything further. (Y/N) watched him for a bit.

“I remember things from the past few months, Teddy,” (Y/N) said quietly, after a few tense moments of silence. “I have a lot of memories. Things that definitely happened to me.”

“Yeah.”

“So... alright. Fine. Let’s start with you coming off the coke.”

“Happened.” Teddy smiled. “You actually helped me with that.”

“Did I take the rest of it to your mom?”

“Yeah. You were a little out of it. But I was in a bad way with it. It’s addiction when you can’t fucking function without it… and my normal wasn’t fucking normal, was it?” he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “But you didn’t want me on it, so I got clean for you. And I got back to my old self.

“We went to see my mom when you were a little more lucid. I gave you slightly less. Gamble, by all means, but it paid off ‘cause you didn’t cause any shit, you know? You just kinda stood there and gave her the bag. You both spoke for a bit, and then I left because I realised I was crossing so many fucking lines I’d spent years drawing. And maybe this’ll answer another plot point for you, because you’d gotten way too fucking close for comfort with my professional life, too. Sure, your charity ideas were good – Villa Lobos for the dog shelter, and Loco Lobos for the youth centre have both taken off pretty well – but you were trying to pull me away from what I do best. Criminal activity. I fucking love being a criminal, (Y/N), and you were trying to stop me from doing that. So I faked a tantrum and left. I don’t know what you said to my mom properly, but when you came out… I was about ready to kill you.

“Speaking of killing you, I did also put you in the ICU. And I’ve never been more scared of losing something in my entire life. It was just after those jackasses had come in here and raped you into submission, and I lost my shit at them –“ he made a gesture with his hand “- and you told me I’d left you to them, as though I’d known there was a mole in the house who had keys to my apartment. I didn’t know, and it fucking hurt. But losing you hurt way, way more… I overstepped the line with it, (Y/N), and I spent so long there… Mom didn’t understand why I stayed by your say night and day, but I love you. Of course I stayed. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, not now.

“But going back to the original point… you learned a lot about my professional career, and I assume you thought you could make me only handle legal stuff. You learned a lot while you were pretty high, so I don’t know if you retained it or not… but at that point, I was dosing you up a little higher than before, just to keep you placid. You made a lot of notes, came up with your own ideas… it was incredible, really. I was proud. But I couldn’t justify giving up doing what I love doing. I love enforcing, (Y/N). I love watching people cower in pure fucking fear when I get ‘em on their fucking knees and stick a gun in their mouth. I love watching people piss and shit themselves… I love the rush of driving too fast through the streets. Get out the fucking way, or get fucking pancaked… I don’t care. People fear me and respect me, and that’s all I want out of life. I’m a simple person, at heart.” He gave (Y/N) a wolfish grin. “Just like my father.”

In truth, that’s all Teddy had ever wanted: to be just as powerful and great as his father. And if his mother would just step aside, he could have that. He could enjoy it, use the power to make New Orleans into something no-one in the states had ever seen before. He’d turned every single cop in the city onto his payroll. He had lines of import and export reaching the entire East Coast up to Canada, which was on his horizon as a new venture… but he’d needed someone like (Y/N) to be by his side for that. A partner (literally) in crime who could help him and who he could trust no matter what. Because a marriage usually meant both people trusted each other implicitly. And Teddy felt he could trust (Y/N). Especially now, after (Y/N) had made it clear there was no friendship with Quincy any more.

(Y/N) looked at Teddy with soft, gentle eyes.

“What about… the wedding? I remember that…” A tiny, barely there voice. Teddy felt a little bad.

“Yeah… it happened, baby.” He reached over and held his hand out. (Y/N) slid a soft palm into his. “It happened, and I’m fucking glad it did. But you were a little high. I still didn’t know if you’d accept me completely sober. After your performance with Quincy, I understand that you would have done.”

“You could have just asked me, Teddy.”

“And risk you saying no?” He smirked. (Y/N) coloured a little. “Look, I had my reasons for keeping you dosed up. Especially in the beginning. But… and maybe we need to address the issue of consent, too, actually. Because I might be a criminal, and I might hold no fucking value to human life… but I’m really not into fucking rape. No means no for me. Both ways. I say no to you, I fucking expect you to honour that. You say no to me, and I’ll honour that.” His face reflected the sincerity. “(Y/N), I can say honestly that I never took you against your will. You always wanted me. And I never touched you like that when I knew you were too out of it or high to make a full choice for yourself. A little buzzed? Sure, I’d take it. But there were times when you wanted me, and you were doped up, and I did nothing.”

(Y/N) stared at Teddy. Teddy said nothing.

“Right… right… okay…”

“I… I don’t know if that was an issue for you… but anything to do with our relationship… I’ve given you a full choice.” (Y/N) burst out laughing.

“You’ve just fucking said you kept me dosed up to make sure I didn’t fucking ditch you at the altar!” (Y/N) hissed, pushing back from the table. “How is that giving me a choice?!”

“Don’t – fucking spin out on me now!” Teddy growled. He stood. “Don’t. You could have said no, but you didn’t. I asked you when you were low dose –“

“I don’t give a fuck when you asked me! You said I had full choice – how was it full choice if I was coked up?!”

“You never fucking took cocaine!” Teddy hissed. He took a calming breath. “It was ketamine – look, (Y/N), if you fucking remember it, then it fucking happened that way. Alright?! Think about when you yelled at my mom for the coke. How does that memory sit?!” (Y/N) tried to remember, but couldn’t. Not fully. The memory was more like a loopy, woozy, drunk… thing… than anything else. But the wedding… that was clearer. Almost as though it was viewed through very tired eyes, but still - (Y/N) had a much more stable memory of it. Teddy held a hand up as (Y/N) backed off and sat back down.

“Right… and… and then… well… the only other thing I want to know about is the rooftop incident.” Teddy’s mouth twitched.

“Yeah… how… how exactly do you remember that?”

(Y/N)

As much as I hated to admit anything to myself, Teddy’s explanations made sense. But I had a much more stable memory of the rooftop incident, just a metre away from where we were sitting… and I remembered it well.

“Teddy?” I called, but no answer came. I felt a bit sick all of a sudden. “Teddy?”

Nothing.

I climbed up to the rooftop.

Teddy was sat on the railing.

Legs over the side the wrong fucking way.

SHIT.

The blueberries fell from my hand, rolling away.

He looked up at the sky, eyes closed. And he was swaying.

He was so, so close to falling. He slid a little, and startled, regaining his balance.

“TEDDY!”

It happened in slow motion, almost.

I don’t know if he slipped, or jumped. I don’t know if he was waiting for me to be there, or if I’d startled him. I don’t fucking know what happened, but I darted forward and grabbed him just as he slipped forwards. It took every single ounce of my strength to hold him in place – just hold him. My entire weight was back, I wasn’t even on my feet, I was just acting as a weight to keep Teddy from plunging down fuck knows how many floors to his death.

Because a fall like that would have pancaked him.

“Let me fucking go,” Teddy breathed, gripping my arms.

“Teddy - no -” I grappled back. He wasn’t trying to get away from me, though. He was holding me as much as I was holding him. I panicked. I fucking panicked. “Please - help me – fuck!” I felt him slipping. “TEDDY!”

“I can’t do it anymore, (Y/N),” Teddy said softly. “I’m... I can’t fucking do it... Just let me go... I fucking deserve to fucking die...”

“No - Teddy – please let’s talk about this!”

“You’re gonna fucking leave,” he whined.

“Teddy, I won’t leave – I promise you I won’t leave! I’m here to stay, Teddy! I choose you! I – fucking love you!” I held on for dear life. Teddy slid a little more, his legs flailing. I could feel his heart racing in his chest as he scrambled for purchase, a strangled cry leaving his throat.

Whatever depressive episode he’d just been through, the fog started to leave him as fear and adrenaline took over.

I managed to get my feet on the railing and, with the last of my strength, I pushed everything I had onto my feet. It worked. Teddy lifted up, and I felt backwards with him, both of us landing hard on the ground. I was winded, but he rolled off me and I pinned him down. I didn’t realise the tears that were pouring down my cheeks until Teddy swiped them away.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry!” He trembled violently as he clung to me, and I to him, lying there on the wet decking of the terrasse. “I’m sorry - (Y/N) I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!”

“It’s - no, Teddy, don’t apologise, baby boy, it’s alright,” I breathed, pushing my face into his chest. He gasped for breath, his chest heaving as a panic attack, and the terrorised realisation of what he’d almost just done, hit him like a train. And he started to sob properly, far deeper and more gut-wrenchingly than I’d ever seen anyone cry before. He held me, as the mist around us turned to rain.

If we’d waited just a few seconds more, he’d have slipped out of my grasp.

Teddy fucking Lobo would be dead.

How could I forget that? Teddy Lobo, plunging to his death?! Almost slipping from my grasp?! I wished I could show Teddy what I remembered.

“I… you were… on the railing,” I said softly. “And I just about stopped you from slipping.” I looked at him, my heart racing. The memory had that edge to it, that weird, loopy edge that made everything dance. But the parts that were clear… me, clinging to Teddy in the rain. Someone holding someone against a railing… the smell of him through the rain… the fear in his eyes… “You were sitting on the railing…”

“No, (Y/N).” Teddy took my hands. “You were on that railing. And I had to climb over to get you.” He stood and took me with him. What I saw knocked the breath from me. There was a ledge, easily accessible if you climbed over. And then, a sheer drop. Almost like an overhang. But there was enough room for someone to stand there comfortably without needing safety harnesses or whatever… And I could see scratches on some of the ledge where something had dug in. “You were there. Sitting right there, legs dangling over. I climbed over to get you, because it was raining, and honestly, if you’d fucking fallen, I’d have jumped after you. And I grabbed you and got you over the railing… but I slipped, climbing back over, and you wouldn’t let me go. I wasn’t in danger, and it was sweet… but you were so high. So fucking high. I couldn’t move you for a while. Every time I tried, you just seized up and melted, and I couldn’t drag you because when I fucking tried that, you let out this piercing fucking scream.” He held both of my hands tightly. “I fucking hate heights, (Y/N).”

I had to laugh. God, I had to fucking laugh. How could I not laugh? But Teddy waited patiently while my little episode passed.

“And I’m clean now?” A slow, sage nod. “Right…”

“And since you’re clean, I want to ask you if you want to stay here with me, and be mine… let me romance you and show you what I would have done if you’d been fucking normal, and not a good little cop… or if you want out.”

My heart stopped. I wanted out? If I wanted out? He couldn’t be serious… Teddy wouldn’t let me go…?

“I… out?” I asked.

“Yeah. I mean… I love you, (Y/N). And in my fantasies, when I first saw you… I wanted you to be mine just because you wanted me. I wanted to pick you up and charm you the good old-fashioned way. Dinner dates, fun reckless shit, then hot sex in the car…” He chuckled, stroking my cheek. “But you had to go and be a cop… and be a good cop at that.”

“I don’t know, Teddy…”

“Look. If I could do it over again, I’d probably try to win you over. But with Quincy and Chandler in your ears, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“You’re right. You wouldn’t have done, because I found that fucking car hideous, and I hated the thing inside it.” I looked at him. See, the look he was giving me now… no-one but me got that look. And all the stable memories of Teddy, ones from before the drugs, they all had that look. Whenever I showed up on a crime scene, he’d give me that look as he drove away. Or if I saw him on the street, he’d give me that look… and he gave me that look when I first submitted to him. Because I remember that day vividly. The day I’d decided that he wasn’t so bad. That I was fighting for nothing.

A life with Teddy could be miles better than the life I had before him.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking,” he said softly. He took both my hands again.

“Alright…” I took a breath. “I’m thinking of my life before you took me. My run-down house with barely enough cash to foot the bills each month. Wondering if I was going to get killed every day. Wondering what would happen to my place if I couldn’t make the rent… listening to Rebecca go on about you as if you were the only thing left in the world to discuss. No hobbies, no real life outside of being a cop…” I sighed. “I looked back and kinda realise just how boring it all was. But with you, I can do something. I know I’ve said this before… but I can, can’t I? I can actually do the charity work. Open hospitals and schools… you’ll give me money for that sort of thing, right?” Teddy nodded. “And we’ve already set up Loco Lobos, we’re funding Villa Lobos…” more nodding. “I could have leisure time. A nice place to live. No stress over where my next meal is coming from at the end of the month…”

“Exactly.” Teddy’s voice was soft.

“And… and it wouldn’t matter that the money comes from dirty sources. Because you can always trace it back to dirty sources, no matter where it comes from…” I sighed. The world, I realised in that moment, was far bigger than me. And truly, fighting Teddy so abundantly every day wasn’t going to help me, or anyone else. Truly.

I know I’ve already come to this realisation… but something about the finality of this moment made it even more real.

I genuinely couldn’t do anything without the backing of an empire like the Lobo empire.

I was a single tiny pixel on a huge screen. If I went out, the screen would keep playing the picture. But if an entire empire went out, like the amount of pixels the Lobo empire must take up… well, that would do far more damage to the picture.

And then… then I had to ask myself if I could live without Teddy. If I could live in a city knowing Teddy could burn around the corner. I thought back to the months I’d spent as a cop, working against him. And I had to admit that there was a tiny little thrill deep inside me that made me hope Teddy would notice me. Perhaps that had once been some weird kind of sick desire to fight… but maybe I’d misinterpreted it. Maybe it was lust. The tattoos were my cup of coffee, for sure. As was his hair… his fashion choices were a little too ostentatious for me… but the rest of it? Teddy’s lifestyle? The power he held? The way he held himself, the way he… the way he just was. Could I live without that?

“So, (Y/N)?” he asked again. “Do you want to stay with me, or no? Do you want out?”

I swallowed.

“That all really depends,” I whispered. “Did I imagine the sex being as good as it was, or was it genuinely fucking mind-blowing?” I took a step forward, reached up, and kissed Teddy. He tasted like the fucking berries he’d eaten. Intoxicating raspberries and blueberries… the motherfucker.

“There’s only one way to find out, baby,” he purred.

“Then blow my fucking mind,” I grinned. Teddy picked me up and whisked me off to the bedroom.

Because of course I couldn’t leave. Not now. Not after all he’d put me through.

The old me was dead. Teddy had killed me and made room for the real me.

I couldn’t leave.

I am (Y/N) Lobo. And that’s who I was always meant to be.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 047

Fuck! 

It’s the Zamasu Saga. 

Son of a... !

*groan*

This arc is the drizzling shits.  It’s easily the worst part of Dragon Ball Super, and it’s far, far worse than anything in Dragon Ball and DBZ.  Is it worse than Dragon Ball GT? 

You know, it might be.  I would say it’s definitely as bad as GT, which makes it pretty vile.  Part of the reason I’m rewatching this is to figure out the answer to that question, but... you know, life’s too short for this.  I’m sitting here trying to compare the worst of the worst, trying to decide which turd sandwich is least appealing, and I feel like this isn’t a good use of my time. 

I’m not gonna do the “Roaming Lake” bit like I did before.  For a time, I considered comparing each episode of this arc to the best episode of GT, except I really can’t decide which one that is.  I keep thinking back to that one where Goku said General Rildo was stronger than Majin Buu.  That one seemed a little better than the others, but it was still an awful episode.  I’m not sure I can compare these things properly. 

I’m just gonna go through this thing, and point out similarities to GT as I find them, and we’ll see if we can figure out an answer when I get to the end.  Okay?  Okay.

So we’re in the Future Trunks Alternate Timeline, which hasn’t been seen since Dragon Ball Z Episode 194.  I think several years have passed since Trunks defeated the Imperfect Cell of that world, but I’m not sure how long it’s been. 

What is certain is that things have gotten much, much worse.  This episode opens on Trunks sneaking through a ruined city while some shadowy villain keeps blowing it up.  Then he makes it to some dingy secret laboratory, where Bulma is preparing just enough Time Machine Fuel for a one-way trip to the past. 

Then their mysterious enemy barges in, destroys Bulma’s equipment, and then kills her.  Trunks flees, knowing that he cannot save his mother, and the trip to the past is the only hope the world has left. 

So that’s our first GT comparison: Killing off underutilized characters as a substitution for genuine drama.  GT set up elaborate death scenes for Majin Buu, Piccolo, Krillin, and Android 17, which all fell flat because those characters barely got to do anything in GT anyway.  Future Bulma is a really cool character who didn’t get a lot of screentime in the Androids/Cell saga of DBZ, so this whole arc could have been an opportunity to do more with her.  Instead, they just kill her off five minutes into the first chapter of the story.  And for what?  To motivate Trunks? 

I mean, let’s seriously think about this.  If this was such a great idea, then why didn’t Toriyama have the Androids kill Future Bulma in the original Androids/Cell saga?  Well, for one thing, that would be too fucking dark.  Trunks had already lost his father and all the other Z-Warriors, and then finally Gohan.  Killing off his mother would literally be overkill.  More importantly, it mattered that there was someone waiting for him back home.  Someone who believed in Goku and the others, and knew they could make things right. 

We’ve barely gotten started, and I’m already pissed off.  I know this is an easy thing to look past.  So many characters in this world have already died, but it’s a big deal.  One of the Zamasu Saga’s many, many sins is the way it tries to just repeat the Androids/Cell Saga, just as Dragon Ball GT tried to repeat story beats from past Dragon Ball stories.  This arc is basically determined to hit the reset button on the whole dystopian future concept.  All the rebuilding we saw in DBZ Episode 194 is erased.  Trunks victory over the Androids and Cell is made irrelevant because of this new menace, and the only solution is another desperate time trip to get help from the past.  At best, this arc can only be a warmed over retread of what we’ve seen before.  But they already fell short of that pathetic goal when they made the mistake of killing off Future Bulma. 

Back in the present day of the main timeline, Goku’s crops are ready for harvest, and he invites Piccolo to help him, since this is the sort of training he used to do with Krillin as a child. 

Then Krillin shows up and mentions how Vegeta has gone back to Beerus’ planet to train, so Goku teleports after him so he won’t get left behind. 

Then the boys all eat jumbo cups of instant ramen!  This shot looks like the one of Goku, Toriko, and Luffy from that crossover special, and it turns my stomach.  Just three goofy pals, eating a wacky snack together!  Must be Dragon Ball Super!

This is probably meant to contrast the bubbly peacetime of Goku’s world with the living nightmare of Future Trunks’ world.  They did this a lot in the Androids Saga too, except the contrast wasn’t quite so sharp. It worked in DBZ because things were kind of grim in the present day, but the characters still had hope because they could still fight and train.  Trunks’ warning from the future was that they would be doomed to lose their next battle, and the conflicting themes of the arc were Goku’s defiant optimism versus the seeming inevitability of fate.

It worked in Dragon Ball Z because Dragon Ball Z was all about the world teetering on the brink of disaster, and the only thing holding the line was a bunch of guys shooting hand lasers in their pajamas.  The only way to raise the stakes after Frieza was for a guy to come from the future and tell Goku he had already lost and the world was already doomed, so Goku could look him in the eye and say “I’m still going to try.” 

It worked then because Z stands for the end, but not yet.  Super stands for “let’s bring back some old IP and see if we can cobble together a sequel.”  Super is Goku being a total goofball and Vegeta having a rod up his ass at all times, and nothing ever really matters because Beerus and Whis are always the strongest characters in the room, and they won’t let anything too serious happen because they enjoy eating Earth food too much.

While they eat, Goku talks up how much fun the Tournament of Power will be whenever it finally happens.  This is the thing that makes the Zamasu Saga really stand out from GT, because at least GT never taunted me with the idea that something good would actually happen later.  This whole Zamasu Arc just keeps gloating about the fact that the Tournament of Power can’t start until we get through this crap first. 

“Tee hee!  Fifty more episodes until something cool happens!”

Back in the future, Trunks makes his way to a bombed out apartment building, where he meets Mai, who is now an adult in this timeline.  They share a can of meat, and talk about how Bulma died for this one-way trip to the past.  Before she got killed, Bulma said there would be a chance for Trunks to return, but he doesn’t know what she meant. 

Trunks has a cool flashback to some cool shit in Dragon Ball Z.  The coolest shit, actually, since it’s mostly footage from the Cell Games.  I miss Cell so much.  He was the best.

So Trunks and Mai head to West City, where they plan to use the Time Machine in the wreckage of the Capsule Corp. building.   Trunks believes that their enemy, “Black”, can track Trunks’ ki, so he has to suppress his powers and travel as discretely as possible. 

And yet Black still tracks him down, just like how he followed Trunks to Bulma’s lab at the start of the episode.  He puts up a fight, but if that were going to work, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad.

Mai tries to distract Black with a shotgun, and that... doesn’t work. 

Trunks rushes to her side and declares that Black has killed her.   So for those of you keeping score, Mai has “died” 1 time in this arc.  This is stupid for a couple of reasons. 

First, they just got done killing off Bulma.  Killing Mai in the same episode is just redundant.  I mean, they shouldn’t have killed either of them, but both is a step too far, and they killed them both in the same episode.

Second, Mai survives this, because they’re going to tease killing her again later in the arc.  That’s how creatively bankrupt this shit is. 

One of the defenses I see of Dragon Ball GT has to do with whether Akira Toriyama contributed to, or approved of the series.  The logic is that you have to like it because his name is on it, and he provided some character designs and other art assets to the project.  If it was bad, then he would have repudiated the whole thing from the start.  Conversely, some GT critics use the lack of Toriyama’s involvement to justify hating the series.  It sucks because Toriyama didn’t write it, end of discussion.  Both of these arguments are stupid.

Because Toriyama did plot this Zamasu arc. I don’t know how detailed his notes were, but I’m pretty sure most of the shitty ideas in this thing were his.  And even if they weren’t his, he didn’t do nearly enough to correct course.  I respect Akira Toriyama a great deal, but this Zamasu arc makes him look like a hack. 

The episode ends with a clear view of the main villain, and it’s an evil Goku wearing a black costume and a Potara earring.  This probably would have been more of a shock if they hadn’t given away this character’s design in the opening credits. 

This was a big deal in 2016, as the fandom was genuinely intrigued by the mystery of this new villain.  Could it really be an evil Goku?  How could it be, when the Goku of this world died of a heart virus decades ago?  Maybe it’s a Saiyan lookalike, like Turles.  Maybe a bad guy switched bodies with Goku, like Captain Ginyu. Maybe it’s an android designed to imitate Goku.  Maybe it’s an evil future version of Goten!  Wouldn’t that be wild? 

I think there was some fringe theory that the heart virus that killed Goku somehow gained sentience and reanimated his corpse.  Maybe I came up with that one.  I can’t remember.

And the potara earring just raised further questions.  Where’s the other earring?  Where did he get that one from?  The design of Goku Black was certainly good for making the audience ask questions.  Everything about this guy’s look is a mystery. 

Also, fans just liked the idea of an evil Goku, whether it was a corrupted Goku or just an impostor.  One of the most popular legacies of this arc is the fan character “Chi-Chi Black”.  I’m not sure where it originated, and I’m not sure there was ever a single concept to Chi-Chi Black.  Sometimes she was the real Chi-Chi seduced to the dark side by Goku Black, and sometimes she was just an impostor using her likeness.  I think the only consensus was that it would be cool to have a girl version. 

But a mystery is only as good as its solution, and I’ve spent this whole post telling you how awful this saga is.  That should tell you how impressed I am with the big reveal.  The shot of Goku Black looking down at Trunks is probably the high water mark of this whole saga.  One episode in and it’s all downhill from here.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

so, my dad had some doctors appointments yesterday so we can just kinda see where he’s at with all of this and what the next step is and i felt pretty confident based on everything we’d been seeing and everything i’d heard from my therapist as well as reading about this that the next step was going to be to order in home hospice care but apparently!!!

we’re doing physical therapy

i guess we’re...gonna see if he can get a little stronger, maybe then see if he can do some more infusions i guess and just go from there?

i dunno

i just feel confused and maybe this is just like...his denial about the whole thing powering him through this because i’m looking through the list of “what it looks like when someone with cancer is dying” and he’s checking several of the boxes but instead of preparing for that i guess we’re just going to push it to the absolute limit, i guess ??

and it sucks because i was just seeing on facebook someone from high school who’s also going through this with a parent and like...hers is at the point where her mom is having to have fluid drained off her lungs every week and she’s absolutely miserable and it’s just awful for everyone involved, especially her mom, but like....i get why she’s trying to power through it, because she’s still fairly young

my dad turns 77 this year

and we’ve asked him over and over again, “is there anything else you want to do before it’s time? any trips? visit with anyone? anything?” nope!!

he’s already done everything he’s wanted and lived a wonderful life

and by no means am i saying, “okay, great, so get the fuck out of here, then!!!” but like...he’s said over and over again he wants to keep his dignity intact and not have it be a miserable march to the end and i can’t help but feel like that’s what we’re signing up for here

i know my mom said emotionally she’s not ready for this to happen right now and i think he’s in denial as well, but like...guys, that’s not going to make it stop, i’m so genuinely sorry about it

and it sucks because it’s at the point where this 24/7 caretaking is taking its toll on my mom (and me, but to a much lesser extent) and it’s like...she goes back to work in a few weeks and i’m the one who’s having to pose the question, “are we at least going to consider getting home healthcare to come in to help him while you’re at work or am i supposed to do it?” and there’s no plan of action for that, but yeah, let’s have a dying man push his body physically and i guess that’ll magically fix everything? 

it won’t

i’m not saying it won’t be nice for him to at least be able to walk by himself (because he can’t right now) or that it wouldn’t be of any benefit for him to do a few arm curls with a 5 pound dumbbell but it just feels like denial is winning the war on reality and i’m the one person who sees it and it’s making this whole thing even more confusing and frustrating

maybe i’m wrong, maybe this will help and he’ll get strong enough to go back on his infusions and then he’ll go back to how he was before which was yeah, still stuck with this shit unfortunately, but like...more or less “normal” and able to like....walk from one side of the room to the other without immediately needing his oxygen and an inhaler and a breathing treatment, y’know?

i dunno.

i guess we’ll just see what happens and figure something out as far as getting him help, because regardless i just don’t feel comfortable being the only person here to watch him while she’s gone

i’m not a nurse and i have a physical disability; if he were to have some sort of medical emergency or fall down i don’t know what i would do and i think the closest medical facility that has an emergent department is at least 30 minutes away so like...i would really prefer having someone here who could help with that

literally the other day he asked me to hand him one of his medicines to take and like...i don’t know what the fuck this shit is or what it does or what can mix with what and fortunately my mom was there to be like, “hang on a second, you don’t need this right now; this is going to do such and such” and had to explain to him that it would cause him more problems than what it would have fixed so like...i almost wrecked his whole fucking day and he asked me to!!!! he didn’t know, but neither did i so like....please

we’re supposed to have a family friend and his wife that are going to move their camper onto our property so they’ll be close by if we need extra help, but they both have jobs as well and ones that take them outside the house and one of the friends has already offered to amend his work schedule and cut back his hours just to help us so there’s that, but still, neither of them have the medical know-how to help with this and one of them has serious health issues herself so she doesn’t need to be stressing herself out because she could literally die so like...yeah

it’s just a lot and i love my dad, i do, god fucking knows i am torn up about the possibility of losing him, but at the same time it’s like...we have something many people (and in my own history especially) don’t get which is the gift of time and awareness

we know that this is happening and we can prepare for it because we know

i didn’t have a chance with Ashley, but i get a chance to prepare for this one and accept it with as much peace and grace as possible while also doing everything in my power to help him go the way he wants to with his dignity and in as little pain as possible and yet it’s like....mmmm, no Anna, everything’s fine, we’re just going to continue on!!!

like okay, but....he’s never going to go back to the way he was before. even with treatments, even with physical therapy, i can see it. even if no one else can or wants to, i can see it. quite frankly, i can smell it, too. it’s not strong and i know the man showers, i’m not saying “ew, he stinks!” but like...death does indeed have a smell and when i get next to him or hug him i can smell it

maybe i’m wrong, maybe he’ll make a miraculous turnaround and kick stage four lung cancer/COPD/emphysema in the ass and live for another ten years!!!!

but i don’t think i am and i really, really need everyone else to get on board with me and accept that because the sooner they do, the easier this will be even if it’s still the hardest thing in the fucking world

i’m sure at some point i’ll have to do what i always do and play the role of truth coming out of her well to beg everyone around me to accept reality and there will be the resistance that there usually is and i’ll be told i’m wrong like i usually am and then when things play out almost exactly the way i said they would and we end up almost exactly where i said we would we’ll have the exact same conversation of, “you were right and you tried to tell me” once again but i’d love if it we could skip that part and just....all get on the same page because i am so fucking tired of carrying grief by myself

it’s like that one quote about how pain gets passed around a family until someone is finally ready to feel it

i’m usually that someone and i think Ashley was that someone before me but neither of us has to be and i hope to god that’s not the case here 

all of that said, my therapy is indeed paying for itself because i am taking care of me today

i slept in pretty decent, i went and got some yummy food and a fun drink and dessert and i’ve just taken some good edibles and will make my way out to the pool in a little bit

today’s a self care day and i will continue to if nothing else prioritize my mental health and physical well being and lean into those who support me and are there for me and will accept reality even if i fucking hate it because i’m taking care of me and i think i kinda like me a little bit so there’s that !!

also, i finally have a week off coming up soon which is my first vacation in like 8 months that i won’t be dog sick during so whatever happens i will at least not have to worry about clocking in and out and goddamn referrals and stupid emails and whatever else!!

hope if you’re reading this you’re having a good weekend and doing something nice for yourself today <3

[hadenclairee]

Just actually officially came out to my mom!

About a year ago, when I first started HRT, I tried to have the conversation with her even though I definitely wasn’t ready, and I started out by telling her that I was “gonna go through some changes over the next couple of years” and that I’d never really felt like I was meant to be a man, and was exploring my gender identity, and she was like “okay.  okay.  well, as long as you aren’t becoming a woman, because that’s the only thing I don’t think I can handle”  In truth, I felt at the time like I was probably non-binary, but to hear that from my mom really hurt.  So I ended the conversation pretty quickly and we moved on, and in the past few months, as I started growing obvious tits, wearing makeup, dressing more feminine (but still kind of androgynous), and changing my voice, I think she caught on to the fact that I was, in fact, “becoming a woman”.

So I wrote her a letter, and was basically like “hey remember this conversation we had a year ago? well, I think you can handle it, and in fact, hopefully you’re ready to hear it because here goes nothing:  I’m becoming a woman”

(Yes, I know, “becoming a woman” isn’t exactly the right language to use to describe transition, but I feel like it helps to start out our communication using common language and maybe shift to more accurate phrasing once we’ve had some more conversations and she becomes a little more educated on the nuances of this stuff.)

Anyways, I told her that I hope this letter can be the beginning of being more open with her about my transition and about my life in general, and that we can have a pretty awesome mother-daughter relationship.  I also cautioned her against “mourning” me, and prepared her for the fact that I’m also going to write a letter to Dad, and that he might not react quite as well (and will probably definitely “mourn”)

The letter to Dad might not happen, though.  I got increasingly nervous after our weekly family dinner as everyone was leaving and it was just me and mom and dad, and I went to go grab my stuff and go home and realized I’d have to hand mom the letter right in front of dad if I intended to deliver it that night at all.  So I very awkwardly hugged both of them, then tried to slip mom the letter sealed in its envelope, and she was like “what’s this?” and I was like “oh, uh, read this when you get the chance.  Bye!  Love y’all!” and both her and dad just stared at me kind of confused as I turned around, bumped into the table, dropped my water bottle, said “oop!” and picked it up, and practically scrambled out the door.

It’s the next morning and I haven't heard from either of them and I’m so anxious right now.  Fuck, I’m so anxious.  I really, really hope they take it well and that I still have loving parents.

[acewolf456]

Man this sucks. So I guess this post is gonna be me yelling into the void, and I hope it doesn’t yell back.

So I met my friends like 12-15 years ago. And we’ve had our ups and downs, but we’ve been close friends until a few months back. One of my friends started distancing himself from our group of friends. He’s been slipping down deeper into a dark hole but we thought he was getting help and doing better. Sometimes friends drift, so I didn’t think too much of it, it’s not like he’s the first person to have left our friend group. And he started hanging out with a different crowd, one that’s toxic. And my friend went to a convention with some of our mutual acquaintances, where he got too drunk and… assaulted someone, in their shared hotel room… in bed. I don’t know the victim, so I don’t feel too strongly about it, I know that’s bad but it’s true. I’m still mad at my friend for doing this, and I did tell the person who told me that they should pursue legal action. And now my friend is planning to end himself. He’s still my friend, he fucked up and he’s growing apart from us but he’s my friend. I already told everyone who could help, I got in contact with his mother and sister, they’re doing what they can. I just have to sit here, knowing nothing. I don’t know what to do. I’m used to knowing what to do, and I know I’ve done everything I can but I feel like I need to do more and I don’t know what that is!

What the hell do you do in this kind of situation, where your friend is an attacker and a victim at the same time? I just don’t know man. Nothing’s ever prepared me for this kind of situation. You’re supposed to be mad at people who commit assault. Easy. You’re supposed to be kind and supportive to people standing on the edge ready to jump. Can do.

Now your friend of 15 years has committed assault and is standing at the edge ready to jump.

I can’t man, I wish I knew what to do, I really do. I wish I could take away either one of these problems so I knew how I was supposed to feel, how to act.

[kitten4sannie]

𝐏𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖑 𝐀𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖞 (†𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖗)

Full version: here

Incubus! San x Afab! Reader x Boyfriend! Wooyoung 

Genre: just actual depravity   

Summary: After going to a fun Halloween party, you and your boyfriend were completely exhausted. You happily turned in, welcoming a night of restful sleep. Well, until you had a visitor. 

Warnings: ???

Author's Note: I knew I had to write some (very filthy) Halloween-themed smut, like there was no way in hell that I wasn’t, especially considering that October is the only time I feel truly alive 🤭 I hope you enjoy this teaser 🖤Btw, I'll be posting the full thing on Halloween night! Muahahaha

➽───────────────❥

You sighed heavily, using all of your strength to pull your intoxicated body out of the car you were in, gently pushing your back against the car door to close it. “Ugh, my feet hurtttt…” you complained, turning your head to watch as your boyfriend walked around from the driver’s side of the car and over to you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist. 

“And that’s why I was trying to get us out of there. I already knew you’d be exhausted. But nooo, you just had to dance to ‘your song’ like ten times in a row.” 

Wooyoung shook his head slightly, gently guiding you up to the front steps of your shared apartment, unlocking the door with his free hand. 

“Whateverrrr, I was just having fun. That was literally the only party we’ve gone to this entire year,” you reasoned, leaning your head against Wooyoung’s shoulder, allowing him to lead you past the entrance and down the hall into your bedroom. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, baby. I’m glad you had fun,” he apologized, cupping your face with his hands and giving you a small pout. “Just go easy on the drinks next time, okay? I don’t want you getting sick.” 

You nuzzled your face against his hands, appreciating his warmth. “I got it, Dad,” you replied playfully, giving him a quick kiss, prior to throwing yourself onto the bed and lazily pulling all of your clothes off, except for your underwear. You watched as Wooyoung stripped off his own clothes and gave you a quick wink, before jumping into bed next to you. 

“You wanna…mess around?” Wooyoung inquired, rubbing small circles on the side of your upper thigh, his eyes focusing on your own. 

“Mm, not tonight, Woo. I’m super tired…like I’m ready to pass out.” Without another word, you faced away from him and pushed yourself back against his body, so that he could hold you. 

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you and kissed the back of your head, whispering, “Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams.” 

“Night, Woo. Sleep tight.”

You fell asleep as soon as you closed your eyes, getting sent into a random dream that you would probably struggle to remember once you woke up the next morning. Unfortunately for you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep long enough to even achieve that. 

After a few hours passed, your body suddenly jolted, bringing you out of your unconscious state. You opened your eyes and scanned the darkness near your side of the bed, a feeling of uneasiness immediately creeping up your spine. There was an intense presence in the room, one that was so palpable that you couldn’t even try to ignore it and go back to sleep. Gathering up all your courage, you took in a deep breath and pulled your covers down so that you could scan the room in front of you. Nothing could have possibly prepared you for what came next. 

You saw a pair of bright red eyes glowing against the darkness that swallowed the room, causing your breath to get stuck in your throat, your body jolting as well, out of pure shock. “Wh-what the fuck?” you eventually cursed in a shaky voice, immediately pulling yourself from Wooyoung’s grasp and sitting up, pressing your back against the headboard, the metal cold on your bare skin. “I gotta be hallucinating. There’s…no way…I-i must still be asle…” Your voice trailed off when you saw the pair of eyes grow closer and closer, an outline of what appeared to be a naked man becoming more clear to you. 

“Fortunately for you, darling, I am very much real,” the mysterious being revealed in a soft, yet sultry voice. 

“Wake up, Y/N! Fucking wake up!” you whisper-yelled to yourself, slapping your cheeks roughly a few times. You were freaked out enough already, so it didn’t help when the entity suddenly disappeared into thin air and reappeared, sitting directly next to you, just a few inches away. 

That was when you felt true fear, as well as something else you couldn’t quite detect in the moment, but all you knew was that it was causing your mind to feel clouded and fuzzy, which only served to frighten you more.

“G-get the hell away from me!” 

You couldn’t even get another word out, as one of the being’s slender fingers came up to your gaping mouth and slid teasingly from your top lip down to your bottom lip, his sharp black nail scraping lightly against your skin. You winced slightly, still unable to take your eyes off of his glowing ones. 

‘Don’t be scared, little one. I’m not here for your soul. I’m here for your body,” he informed, letting out an airy chuckle. 

Now that you could get a good look at him, you realized that he wasn’t as scary-looking as your frightened mind had previously assumed. Sure, his gaze alone was able to strike terror into your fragile heart, but his angular, feline-like features intrigued you. To be quite frank, you had never encountered someone who was this captivating before, besides Wooyoung of course. Not to mention, the entity’s overwhelming presence was even capable of making you forget that your boyfriend was still there, laying just a few inches away from you, snoring peacefully as though there wasn’t a literal demon in your room. 

“Wh-who are you? What...are you?” you murmured softly, barely able to hear your words over the sound of your heart pounding inside your chest. 

“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my birth name, so you can just call me San,” he explained, his words sounding almost serpent-like when he said his name. “And lucky for you, sweetheart, I’m an incubus.” 

“I-incubus? Like a…a…demon?” you stammered nervously, almost paralyzed with fear at this point. Suddenly hearing Wooyoung talking incoherently in his sleep, you briefly considered trying to wake him up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move even a single inch.

“Mm-hmm.” 

San’s intensely warm hands pressed down onto your thighs, immediately giving you goosebumps. They slowly traveled past your hips and onto your waist, forcefully pulling your bodies together. The skin-on-skin contact sent what felt to be electricity through your body, causing the knots in your stomach to tighten significantly.

"I-...um..." you mumbled, feeling your throat going dry.

San sighed lightly, caressing your hips, his nails just barely dragging along your soft skin. “Simply put, I like to play with pretty girls like you at night…Pretty boys too,” he purred into your ear, as his crimson eyes flickered down to admire Wooyoung’s sprawled out, half-naked body. 

➽───────────────❥

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© toxicccred, 2022.

[around1302]

I. BIRTHDAY BLUES

SPARE PARTS: a series (1/20)

AVIVA STADIUM, DUBLIN

(W) strong language, alcohol & drug use

CHARLIE’S POV

“You know what your fuckin’ issue is?”

“Oh yeah? Tell me now, Charlie, right before we play to 50,000 people.”

“51,700, actually.”

“Bite me, princess.”

Harry, as always, was late. Twenty fucking minutes late. I thought, naively, that maybe he would surprise me. That this time, on the first show of our world stadium tour, he would actually rock up at the agreed-upon time. But no, twenty minutes after we were meant to be on stage, he rolled in as cool and collected as ever while I'd been pacing anxiously.

I had jumped up from my place by the covered speaker, promptly whacked him on his ridiculously polka-dotted shoulder, and began the earache for the rest of them (who all, by habit at this point, groaned and covered said ears).

“You guys ready?” A crew member interrupts us seconds from an actual fistfight and begins lifting the crimson curtain, one we’d all have about ten seconds to mentally prepare behind before a screen would be lifted and we’d be on display to (I am correct) 51,700 awaiting fans.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Niall answers, adjusting his guitar strap, “you guys think you can keep it in your pants for the next ninety minutes?”

Overlapping grumbles of disgust from Harry and I echo the small backstage as Louis thrusts his palm in the middle of us all. I roll my eyes but can’t help the small tug of my lips as the ritual begins. Liam follows, sticking his trusty drum sticks in his pocket to slap his palm atop Louis’. Niall joins, Harry’s ring-clad hand eventually makes its appearance, and I reluctantly top the pile.

“Spare Parts on three, yeah?” Louis asks, as if that wasn’t obvious by now.

“On three,” Liam affirms regardless.

“One,”

“Two,”

“Spare Parts!”

“Okay, you’re up,” Clipboard-Man lifts the heavy red curtain, making the screams suddenly louder, realer, scarier, “break a leg.”

“We’ll try not to,” I smile, trying not to let the nerves wobble my bottom lip as I barge past Harry to get to the front, not caring to turn for his reaction.

I know that for the next ninety minutes it will be all fake smiles and even faker laughs with my singing partner, so as he takes up his position beside me, I decide to steal one last scowl and a hissed, “this isn’t over,” before the screen suddenly lifts and there they are.

51 and fucking 700.

“Ire-land!” Niall shouts into the mic attached to his face, throwing his hands in the air as we all shakily step out and try not to pass out in front of the overwhelming crowd. We all knew going in that this was really Niall’s gig, and so he was more than happy to take the reigns for our first show.

You can barely see a person for the bright lights beaming back at the five of us, but by the edge of the stage you can just about see signs and fuck can you hear them. The cheers for us is something I can never get used to, no matter how long we’ve been doing it for. I imagine myself being old and gray and wrinkled and still surprised if I’m stopped in the street.

“It’s good to be home!” Niall’s met by the sounds of thousands of – apparently dying – fans, “Ireland, we have a special treat for you tonight.”

I stand with my arm leant against Louis, my usual safe haven, and laser my focus on the back of Harry’s head as he anxiously messes with his hair, just so I don’t have to watch the crowd.

“You good, Char?” Louis pulls down his mic and whispers, moving his bass out of my way. I send him an over-exaggerated (and unconvincing) nod, trying my hardest not to let the nerves crumble me into a dusty pile atop that stage.

Gigs? Fine. An arena tour? Done. But a stadium tour? A world stadium tour? I’m realising (in probably the worst place) just how new and terrifying this territory is.

“Today is a very special day for us,” Harry continues, turning around and glaring at me with wide, scolding eyes. I quickly take the hint, sucking in the last of my confidence to step forward to him, “because six years ago today, we were formed as a band.”

The crowd rips into cheers heard deafeningly even through my earpiece, and despite the plummeting feeling I have deep in my chest, I feel an aura of safety. Despite there being a lot, lot more of them than I’m used to – they’re here for us. They paid, they showed up, they’re screaming for us.

“We want to thank you all,” I boom, my voice leaving me firmer than I expected, “so much, from the bottom of all our hearts. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you guys.”

“We love you!” A fan yelps out amongst the screams.

“We love you more,” Harry quickly shoots back, ever the moment-stealer, “and to show you how much we love you,” he glances back at Niall, who begins to play a few opening cords of Teenage Dirtbag, “we’re going to play the very first song we ever sang together.”

Liam kicks in with the drums as I continue.

“Six years ago, we were nothing but strangers thrown together, and now we’re up here as a family,” I glance at Harry, a look that is met with a knowing – mocking – smirk. I try not to scowl, “thank you, Ireland. We love you. This is Teenage Dirtbag!”

Harry and I share an always oddly reassuring look as our earpieces give us the count-in and the opening notes of our first song begin.

Despite our off-stage hatred, on-stage we always seem to mesh. Maybe it’s because Harry Styles is so drastically different to Harry that he’s actually bearable, or maybe we’re just equally as terrified. Either way, as I begin to shakily sing her part, I don’t miss the way Harry watches me from the sidelines until I stand stronger in my voice and melt into Charlie Greene.

“I think last night was our best show yet.”

“You say that every show, Liam.”

“What? It’s true.”

“Will you guys shush,” scolding brogue suddenly emerges from the corner, “she’ll be here any minute.”

Cryptically, I kind of hope it all backfires. Amelia walks in too early, or she hates the balloons, or has the date wrong. As my hamstrings burn within their crouched position behind some seating, my eyes boring into the plushy velvet till I’m sure I hate the colour yellow, I wish that under some power of some God that Niall doesn’t win this one.

Call me petty, but I’m damn well allowed to be. It was me plaiting her hair and gossiping about our classmates and being her shoulder to cry on for the most part of our lives. I was supposed to be the one who bought all the pink glittery vodka out, and ensure the only music playing from the jukebox will be Red (TV) and, and… well, fuck.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. They’re perfect.

I hate this.

“Do you want to make it any less obvious you’re bitter about this whole thing?”

“Shut up, Louis,” I grumble, not bothering to meet his eye. I already know it’s going to be judgmental, “I’m the worst friend in the world, I’m allowed to be pissed.”

“Maybe, but suck it up for one night, yeah?”

I flag him in the dark, our eyes so adjusted at this point he sees clear as day and flases me a sarcastic grin right back. He’s right – I do need to suck it up, but with how busy I’ve been lately with the new album and tour preparations, I should have at least planned my best friend’s 22nd to make up for the lost time. She’s been excited for this day since we were twelve and replayed Taylor Swift dancing in heart glasses and a (questionable) fedora a trillion times.

Niall had organised everyone to be at Malibu’s for half seven before getting Zayn to shoot Amelia a text to meet at eight. According to her, this was going to be a semi-normal Friday night at our usual; she’d be hanging out with Zayn as the rest of us are ‘still in Ireland.’ Except, we’d all be jumping out of the darkness when the door chimes open. The last person to arrive did so about ten minutes ago, omitting, of course, one exception…

The usual exception.

where are u ??

Sent 19:35

seriously, where are u

Sent 19:40

dude.

Sent 19:46

this isn’t funny, this is lia’s day

Sent 19:50

HELLO??

Sent 19:55

i genuinely hope u get crushed in traffic

Sent 19:59

To be late to everything is one thing, but to be late to a surprise party for not only my best friend but a subsequent good friend of the whole band is taking the piss. Amelia’s due any minute, and–

A rectangle of light flows into the room, the door chimes – fuck, it’s showtime, and I’m riddled with frustation while I should be tingling with pre-emptive happiness for my friend. Anticipation straightens my spine as Niall flicks the light on by the door and we all jump out popping glittery confetti and yelling jovial surprises to…, not Amelia. Harry barely looks up from his phone as everyone murmurs collective confusion and groans of annoyance at the wasted string now adorning the bar floor.

“God, you’re a fucking idiot, H,” Niall grabs his arm, yanking him to the side as his eyes flicker around the room, seemingly taking this all in as if this is news. Niall turns to us, presumably to tell everyone to get back in place and forget the fact all the party poppers are ruined, but not a few moments later the actual birthday girl appears in the doorway. Everyone yells surprise again, this time a little weaker.

I wish I could see her face, but I’m too busy hoping the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ is true as I glare at Harry. In his (teeny tiny) defence, he looks genuinely confused, and we’re all running on two hours of sleep and a whole bunch of heat exhaustion. But, the several texts I sent and the fact this has been discussed in endless amounts in the past few weeks feed him little sympathy from me.

“Sorry, Lia,” Niall starts, “this was meant to be a surprise party, but–”

“You threw me a party? You’re here?”

“Yes, but–”

“Baby!” Amelia squeals, jumping into her boyfriend’s arms. I half roll my eyes, of course, she doesn’t care she’s walked into an awkwardly bright ‘surprise’ where the guests are uncomfortably half crouched behind furniture and the bar. She’s human fucking sunshine, she has no idea Harry just ruined it all – lest if she does, she doesn’t care. Niall waves to everyone from behind Amelia’s embrace to get on with the party, so the jukebox kicks in and people start to crawl their way to all the pink vodka sitting atop the polished bar.

Louis, Liam and I are finally able to stretch our legs, and Harry’s attention shifts back to his phone. It takes everything in me not to follow him and beat the everliving shit out of that motherfu–

“Charlie! You’re here too!”

My violent thoughts are cut off by Amelia suddenly before me, beaming and looking kind of surprised. A little offended, I engulf her in a hug, trying not to spiral into why my best friend seems shocked I’m at her birthday party. She just thought we’d be in Ireland, that’s all. Nothing to do with me. Or my schedule. Or my not being there lately.

We pull from each other, my mouth opening to wish her a happy birthday, say anything, but Louis pulls her into a hug and my distracted eyes catch Harry behind her. The rage that fills me at just the sight of his back is so familiar at this point, I live day and night with the feeling. I realise Amelia’s busy enough with the tens of people who came to celebrate her, so slinking away to the bar is easy enough.

"Your phone seems to be working fine, then."

I take up the sticky leather stool beside him, making him jump a little as he’s entirely engrossed in his device. God, he’s like a toddler. Harry sighs, setting his apparent lifeline face down atop the bar before tilting in his chair to face me, our denim-covered knees bashing together in the process.

"What are you talking about?"

My tongue pokes at my cheek to stop myself from biting his head off.

"I texted you. Like a million times."

"Ah,” he lifts his chin, “I had you blocked years ago, princess."

Why doesn't that surprise me? I roll my eyes and turn to face the racks of liquor, eyeing which bottle I'd most like to drown in first. A Harry-shaped blob moves in my peripheral, propping it’s elbow on the wood and leaning it’s head against it’s palm.

"I'm kidding. I was driving, I picked Amelia up.

"You picked her up?!” And I thought I couldn’t get angrier.

"That's what 'I picked up Amelia' means, yes."

I scramble for words, for sanity. "Why?"

"Her studio was on the way and I had time to kill."

He’s un-fucking-believable, “you couldn't have at least let her walk in first?"

At this point, I genuinely can't tell if Harry really forgot this was meant to be a surprise or if he’s just that self-centred. Probably a healthy mix of both.

"Apparently not. Now, this is lovely," he straightens, grabs his phone and nods to someone behind the bar. I follow his gaze, seeing (predictably) Rachel waiting beside the staff exit, bottom lip between her teeth, a joint between her fingers, "but I'm going to talk to people I actually like."

I let his little comment slide, settling for a scoff and a grumble beneath my breath as he disappears behind the bar. Slinging his arm around Rachel, Harry takes the joint from her and the two of them enter the smoking area together.

"Hey, stranger."

I snap out of my frustration-fuelled daze, blinking back to a reality where Zayn’s standing before me – all kind whiskey eyes and awaiting smiles and inky marks peaking from his usual black shirt. I grin, the type of happiness I only ever get from him distracting me and pulling me back to Earth.

"Z, hey!"

"What're you drinking?" He slings a towel over his shoulder, leaning his forearms against the bar as he becomes close. Dangerously close. Close enough for me to smell his sagey aftershave and spilt liquor. I hum, avoiding his eye to browse the racks again.

We met Zayn years ago when trying to discover bars that wouldn’t be swamped with paps, and all became fast friends with him when he offered us discounted drinks for tattoo practice. And, low and behold, three years down the line, we're all borderline alcoholics with shitty tattoos.

Him and the pap-less element of Malibu’s keeps us the dive bar’s most loyal customers, because fuck me if the drinks aren’t bad. Zayn’s one of the best people I know – terrible bartender, though. The worse. He's always said bartending is just a way to make ends meet while he works on his art, and I believe him, but God I hope he meets those ends soon. I'm always cautious when ordering from him, and as much as I'd love to get absolutely wasted tonight, alcohol poisoning's probably not the way to go.

"Tequila?"

"Right up," he winks, turning to grab some Don from the top rack. While he's getting my shots ready, I notice Harry’s return: Rachel-less and a little more rugged than before. He coughs as he sulks behind me and takes his seat back up, brushing his long locks back and behind his ears. I squint my eyes as I study him; he messes with his hair, then coughs again, then adjusts the buttons on his shirt, and then messes with his hair one last time.

Zayn lays out three shots accompanied by three limes and three pots of salt, and after Harry has ordered himself a whiskey I can't help myself.

"Five minutes has to be a record."

He sighs, nodding thanks toward Zayn after he sets down the glass and leaves to serve another customer.

"Try not to sound too jealous, Charlie."

I scoff, preparing myself for my first shot, “what of? A five-minute snog?"

"Eugh," Harry splutters. I pause while lining up a line of salt on the back of my hand.

"What?"

"That word."

I pique, "what word? Snog?"

He shudders, bringing his glass up to his lips. “Don’t say it again."

"God, you're twelve," I take a deep breath – I'm terrible at shots – lick the salt, shoot the shot, and suck the lime till the bitterness overpowers the petrol-like burning stops it’s Hellish trail down my throat, "what would you call it then?" The question leaves me a little rougher than I intended, and Harry’s low chuckle at my struggle seems to prolong the recovery time.

"I don't know," he clears his throat, "how about we do it then you tell me?"

I pause, once again, mid-line. He full-on belly laughs, now.

"You're disgusting," this one seems to go down harsher, but something in me tells me it's because Harry just put that image in my head.

"Least I'm not bagging free drinks from my ex."

I shake my head, my eyes squeezed shut while I juggle recovering and coming back with something witty.

"They're not free," fumbled the witty thing, seemingly, “and he’s not my ex.”

I push the two empty glasses aside, mentally preparing myself for my third and final shot. The good thing about my alcohol tolerance is that it is worryingly low. These shots will do me for the next few hours; enough to have me dancing on tables, not enough to make my head bang any more than it usually does in the show we have tomorrow.

“Right,” he gives me a look behind the whiskey glass, the rim just brushing his bottom lip as his arched brows raise, “just someone you used to frequently bang and cried about, what was it… five times one night?”

"Whatever," I’m sick of this salt now, "at least I have somewhat of an ex," I coat my tongue with the bitter crystals, asking a muffled, "how long was your relationship, again?"

Harry swallowed the last of his whiskey, "five minutes, according to you.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily

[natashawritesstuff]

Track 17: F You I love You📼

“Fuck you and maybe fuck me”

husband! terushima x reader (married young) cursing, fights

F You I Love You by KYLE and Teyana Taylor 

We both try

We both try to get things right

You had a specific plan for your life. Graduate high school, graduate college, get a secure job, get a nice place, and then- and only then would you be ready for a boyfriend.

Now you were always prepared for a few wrenches being thrown in the plan. Like trouble finding a safe area or having to switch schools. You were ready for a few changes in the plan. You were not ready for Terushima Yuuji, and what was not a part of the plan was marrying him two years after you graduated high school.

But what was done was done and you unfortunately were undoubtedly in love with him. So you tied the knot and tied the former high school player down.

The night after the wedding the two of you toasted to the rest of your lives on a moonlit beach in Cancun.

“We’re gonna do this right, I’m gonna do this husband thing right,” he promises you.

“Yeah, we got this,” you agree.

But I still write the most hurtful words I could find

“She likes you,” you told him two weeks into marriage.

“But I love you!” Terushima defends, “if you could just trust me on this-”

“I don’t!” you scream, “I wonder why.”

Fight all night

But somehow when the sun rises

“Y/N,” he whispers, as the morning sun hits your skin in all the right ways, “are you okay?”

You turn around to face him nodding as you say, “I’m okay. You?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”

“Are we gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

I'm shocked we're both surviving

But I still feel like fuck you

“Least favorite thing about me,” Terushima asks you one morning.

“You’re really flirtatious to strangers.”

“That’s how I got you though,” he teases.

“Okay, but why are you still doing it?” you ask and his playful tone drops.

“Oh, so you want me to change my whole personality?”

“Your personality shouldn’t be telling every girl how hot they look.”

“That’s what you think of me?”

“No-”

“Wow.”

Baby, you still feel like fuck me

“You know, I think you start shit. That’s my least favorite thing about you.”

“What no I don’t.”

“You so do, You always poke holes in everything, it’s like you want us to break up.”

“The fact that you would even say that when you-”

I know things can get so ugly

But still' how I'd get so lucky?

“Do you wanna dance with me?”

It’s midnight when he asks you. The fight had finished hours before and now the two of you were sitting on the couch silently watching a movie.

“What?” you respond.

“Do you wanna dance with me?”

“With what music?”

He doesn’t answer that question. Instead, he grabs your hand and pulls you off of the couch. He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone having a song already picked out and he presses play.

It only takes a few moments for it to register: the fact that he was playing, “our song,” you realize.

“I love you,” he tells you, as he guides your hands up to his neck and he lets his fall to your waist.

“I love you.”

To have found someone so awesome

I thank God I've finally got one

Watch the love we both have blossom

“We’ve come a long way,” you note, looking back on yearbook photos with Terushima.

“High school sweethearts to this. Married before we even hit twenty-one.”

“Still together at twenty-six,” you remind him, and the two of you high five.

And if that one dies

“Wait… if we get divorced,” he says pausing to knock on the wood of your bed frame then continues, “what do we do?”

“We start dating again,” you answer and lets out a long ‘ohh’

“Yeah, you’re right baby. For lifers.”

“For life.”

I'll plant another seed and watch a new one rise

You mad baby, say it, no need to pretend

One day, Terushima came home from work and collapsed on top of you. He claimed over and over again that he was tired as you stroked his hair but you knew something was up.

“Do you want some takeout from down the street?”

“We only go there when I’m sad.”

“Mhm.”

“How’d you know?” Terushima asks, and you can’t tell if he really thought he was good at hiding his emotions.

You laugh instead of answering, simply grabbing your car keys and leading him out the door.

'Cause I know you so well, we might as well be twins

So we kiss, and we argue, and argue again

“Makeup?” he asks, pouting and wiping away a tear that streamed down your face.

You nod and he leads you to the bedroom

It gets like that when your lover's your best friend

You take me to heaven, but giving me hell

“Baby?” you call, “did you RSVP for that wedding?”

“What wedding?”

“He’s one of your former teammates. You promised him you’d help plan.”

“Again, what wedding?”

You pause, “so no?”

“Yeah, probably not.”

“Yuuji, baby,” you say calmly, “I love you, but sometimes, I just wanna kill you.”

“Aww, you love me?”

You know you can win in an argument

You take your shirt off whenever I get mad

You take your shirt off 'cause you know me well

“You’re being so-” you scream and Terushima crosses his arms as he grabs the hem of his shirt before he pulls it off.

“I- what the hell.”

“I got hot,” he shrugs.

“I’m trying to be mad at you!”

“Be mad at me shirtless then.”

You stare at him for a long time before you roll your eyes, before walking over to him and he picks you up, supporting you by having his hands under your thighs.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles.

“Shut up.”

If I had to choose one, you would be the one

Even when you got your clothes on

'Cause baby, I hate you sometimes

“Most irritating person you know, go!”

“You!” you answer without thinking then slap your hand over your mouth. “Sorry,” you muffle.

“No, you’re the most irritating too.”

“Awww,” you gush and he kisses your pout.

If you hate me too, that's alright

Fuck you, I love you

Baby, don't apologize

'Cause I done said a thousand times

Fuck you,

“How dare he!” you shout, throwing your jacket down as soon as you enter the door.

Terushima, coming in right behind you, picking your jacket up as he says, “who even asked him to speak?”

“Sure as hell wasn’t me!”

“Or me! ‘I’m surprised you made it’ shut up!”

“I mean we’re a little rough around the edges,” you admit, “but we’re fucking good together!”

“The best!” he agrees, “how can he not see that? We’ve been married for six years now!”

“And you’re clearly my everything!”

“Mine too! Wait,” he pauses, “really?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, “Yuuji we’re married,” you remind him.

“I know I just…” he says his voice trailing off and you cup his cheek.

“Hey, we’re far- and I mean really far from perfect, but I could never see myself with anyone but you.”

“I don’t want anyone else either.”

“Good,” you say smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, “because, no one else would love you anyway,” you tease and he slaps your ass, laughing.

“Yeah, fuck you too.”

I love you

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