praetorianstuff

[kaiawrites]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES (halloween fic)

lando norris x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

prompt(s): “You okay? Your face is red.” “Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally, it’s just the weather.” & "Oh my god, your room is so dirty. How do you live here?" "If you're so bothered by it, clean it up." "Fuck off. I'm not your servant." "You act like one." "I. Said. Fuck. Off."

warnings: slightly creepy guy calls the reader a wh*re, minor violence/blood (just a bar fight), the rest is pretty fluffy

a/n: posting my 'once in every 3 years' post, happy halloween for the lando girlies! I haven't proofread this, so sorry for any mistakes

"Have you seen my black T-shirt, I'm sure it was here. I swear I saw it here," you heard Lando’s voice call out from across your shared flat. 

"Oh, the one that looked like a rag? Yeah, I threw it away," you replied as you continued drying off your dishes.

“What!” you heard Lando shriek. "You little shit, come here!" You snickered as an angry, shirtless, Lando stormed into your kitchen.

“Clam down Norris, I didn’t touch any of your shit I have no idea where your goddamn T-shirt is,” you laughed at the Brit’s unamused face as you put away the last of the dishes. “Come on, I’ll help you look for it,” you said, though you did not expect what you found when you reached Lando’s room. Rarely did you ever come into each other’s room; so you hadn’t seen it’s inside it a while. Clothes were strewn about on every flat surface, cups and plates you’d been missing for weeks scattered about and his bedsheets practically on the floor. No wonder he couldn’t find his stupid t-shirt.

"Oh my god, your room is so messy. How do you live here?" you laughed, your roommate glowering further at you. Clearly, he did not find you as funny as you found yourself.

"If you're so bothered by it, clean it up."

"Fuck off. I'm not your servant." 

"Well, you act like one, darling," now a teasing smile curling his lips.

“Then you can find your shirt on your own, Norris,” you said, giving him a bitter smile before exiting his room. You knew damn well there was no way you would've been able to find anything in his mess of a room. Anyways, you had to start getting ready too, since you were soon to be on your way to a Halloween party. Your costume was quite simple, just a regular red mini-dress and some devil horns on a headband, so it didn’t take you very long once you’d gotten your makeup down. 

“Come on Norris we’re gonna be late!” You called out, checking your phone for the time. In truth, you were already late, but you were about to be later than was acceptable if Lando didn’t come down soon. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. Unluckily, however, it seemed that Lando had gone absolutely insane and dumped a gallon of glitter on his skin.

“Is that your costume?” You asked. Lando looked down at himself and nodded proudly, glitter falling off at the movement. “I thought you were being a vampire..?”

“I am,” Lando replied, a permanent proud and shit-eating grin on his face. “You know, like the ones from Twilight.”

“You’re going to embarrass me,” you said in exasperation.

“I know, that’s the point, love,” Lando replied smugly. “Let’s go now, you don’t want to be late, do you?” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him out.

———

Lando watched from the bar as you stumbled off the dance floor and looked around, a bright, dazed smile tugging at your lips when you spotted him. Jesus christ you were beautiful. Not that you weren’t always beautiful, Lando knew you were, but there were moments where you seemed more than beautiful. Moments like this one, where you headed toward him, the glistening of your skin reflecting the club lights, looking at him expectantly as you awaited his answer.

“What?” Lando said, breaking out of his stupor and nearly blushing at how he’d completely missed your question. You laughed at his confusion, before leaning closer. Lando’s heart skipped a beat, and for an imperceptible moment, he thought you were going to kiss him. But of course, the moment passed as you leaned into his ear, repeating your unanswered question more clearly. 

“Why aren’t you having fun?” you asked smoothly, revealing a faux pout as you drew back. Lando let out a chuckle.

“I am having fun, love,” he replies.

“No, you’re standing here watching the rest of us have fun,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “Come oooonnn, Norris, come dance with me.” Lando stared into your puppy-dog eyes, ready to give in and come make a fool of himself on the dance floor for you, before he was cut off by an unknown, and unwelcome voice.

“Forget him, I’ll dance with you,” the voice said, its owner getting far too touchy with you for Lando’s liking.

“Uhm, no thank you,” you answered, all your previous mirth dissipating into discomfort.

“Come on babe, I promise, I’m fun,” the evidently drunk man repeated, 

“I’m alright, thanks,” you said, refusing once more. The man didn’t reply this time, instead choosing to grab your wrist in order to lead you toward the floor.

“She said no, mate,” Lando cut in dryly. The man turned toward Lando, anger simmering beneath his stare.

“Look, you can drop the act mate, I’ve seen her whoring around all night, I know that’s not your girl. She’s free game,” he slurred.

“What did you just call her?” Lando spat. The guy laughed at what Lando could only assume the man thought was an empty threat. However, Lando didn’t give him a chance to retaliate.

“Lando!” you exclaimed as both men went down. The next moments were a blur of fists and bloodied faces, until Lando was suddenly pulled off the man by a security guard. He turned to see you looking all at once scared, worried, relieved and angry. Lando looked back down at the drunk guy, and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk at the state he’d left him in, even as the security guard escorted him out of the bar.

———

“Are you mad at me?” Lando broke the heavy silence as you walked into your flat. You sighed deeply, turning around to face him for the first time since you’d been kicked out of the bar. 

“Of course not, just… promise you won’t do anything like that ever again. I mean, I know you’re an idiot, but that was even more stupid than usual,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood, but Lando still stared at you, uncharacteristically unreadable.

“I can’t promise that, I would do it again if I had to.”

You stared at him intently, searching for any sign of Lando’s usual playfulness, but you only found earnest eyes and a clenched jaw. You averted your gaze, not knowing what to do with this uncharacteristic behaviour. Instead, you turned toward the bathroom, hearing Lando’s shuffling feet as he trailed after you. Rummaging through a drawer, you pulled out a first aid kit and turned back toward Lando to find him almost comically standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Sit,” you said more harshly than you intended, gesturing toward the ledge of the bathtub. Lando heeded your command, silently taking a spot where you’d directed him. After wiping off the remainder of his face paint and glitter, you began by cleaning up the cut on Lando’s nose, soaking a towel with cold water and dabbing it at the cut. Lando flinched and hissed at the contact. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you chided with a chuckle, though there was no malice in it.

“I am not a baby,” Lando scoffed with a small smile. After cleaning and patching up the cut on his nose, you moved on to his split lip, hesitating a moment before bringing the towel to it. Lando’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the contact, but he didn’t wince this time. You focused on intently cleaning the wound, and once you were done, you set aside the towel. You turned back toward Lando to find his face tinged a bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face just got all red?” you inquired, looking him over for any sign of an injury you might have missed.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally. It’s the, uhm, weather,” Lando replied, his voice breaking on the first word. You looked at him, deadpan.

“We’ve been inside for a solid ten minutes, Norris,” you stated.

“Well, y’know what I mean, it’s like, warm in here or something,” he rectified, his face somehow flushing further. A small smirk formed on your lips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flustered, Norris,” you teased as you finished cleaning up the small cut.

“What? Flustered? By you?” He replied, his voice an octave higher and cadence a tad faster than usual, only proving your point further. You disposed of the gauze, turning back toward him and cupping his face in your hands. You smirked and raised an eyebrow at his widening eyes and ever-flushed face. “Okay, okay, maybe I am,” he admitted.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” You taunted him. Lando’s eyes searched your face for any sign of humour, but found only sincerity. With that, he leaned in, closing the remaining distance between the two of you. The kiss was slow and purposeful, free of any of the teasing which usually permeated all your interactions. This was something else, communicating a kind of sincerity your words could hardly convey.

“Thank you,” you added after parting from the kiss.

“What? For kissing you?” Lando answered with a chuckle. “‘Cause I can do it again.”

“For sticking up for me. It was dangerous and reckless and please don’t do it again. But thank you, still. I appreciate it.”

“Well, like I said, I would do it again. That fucker had it coming, messing with my girl.” He replied, brushing the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“Your girl, huh?” You echoed teasingly.

“If she wants to be, that is?” Lando replied. You hummed, contemplating.

“If he takes me on a date, I might consider it,” you settled on, turning to exit the bathroom, though you didn’t miss Lando’s hushed, dragged out yes, and you giggled as you imagined him pumping his fist. He followed you out, and you both settled on the couch, seemingly in agreement to watch a movie. You tossed Lando the remote.

“Your turn to pick,” you said, as you had picked the movie last time. After a moment, Lando settled on a movie and pressed play. “A horror movie?” You inquired. “You’re terrified of those.”

“Am not!” Lando replied petulantly. 

“Yes, you are,” you laughed, doubling over as the first jumpscare of the movie made Lando jump in his place. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh, even if it was at his expense. In fact, he would gladly make an idiot out of himself every day if it meant making you laugh like that. And maybe Lando really was terrified of horror movies, but maybe he’d also purposely picked a horror movie so he’d have an excuse to his his face on your shoulder, and maybe, just maybe, you were glad he’d picked a horror movie because you too, wanted and excuse to keep him close tonight.

[burningcheese-merchant]

burningcheese evidence part 2 because yes

I'm kind of foaming at the mouth right now, I'm not really going to be 100% coherent in this post, episode 6 has melted my brain and I need to cool off (also I have actual work to finish irl lololol)

Spoilers under the cut, don't want to be That Asshole

Also for the 1,000th time, it is perfectly okay and understandable if you do not like this ship, I'm not holding a fucking gun to anyone's head, I know it's not really canon or anything, just let me have my dark hero/villain relationship in peace

"Hey where's Golden Cheese? Is Golden Cheese awake yet? Can she wake up now? No? Why isn't she awake? I want her to wake up already, why won't she wake up already? It's implied that I've asked this question multiple times, when will someone give me the answer I want? I want her here, I want her attention, I want her to wake up already-"

He thinks so highly of her in his Joker-esque way. She's so strongggg. He knows she's strong. Why wasn't she strong before? This isn't like her, he knows that. He knows her. He knows she's strong. He wanted to see her be strong. What happened?

Wanting to straight up get high with her. Wanting to watch her let loose. Calling her a combination of "little thief" and "little bird", two pet names the BurningCheese community (spearheaded by yours truly) has had Burning Spice assign to Golden Cheese

"I KNEW SHE WOULDN'T DISAPPOINT ME" bro thinks the whole damn world of her and had faith she wouldn't let him down, look how fucking happy he is she broke out of prison. She's just like him right now fr fr

She's giving him precisely what he desired, which is a struggle. Which is a chase. Which is a hunt. Which is a FIGHT. Which is HER. HE WANTS TO HAVE FUN WITH HER.

Bro is literally SMELLING her everywhere dude. He's attuned to her. To her presence.

"Hey bring her back to me, I miss her. But I swear to God, if y'all hurt her, if y'all ruffle a single one of her feathers, I will KILL YOU, YOU GOT THAT? SHE'S MINE! ALL MINE! BRING HER TO ME ALIVE AND THAT'S IT! YOU GOT IT?!?!?!"

God the cute sing-song voice I can't right now. Jesus Christ, my guy. Calling to her like that, really??

Sniffing her out again because he's fucking deranged and obsessed with her. He's got her whole essence on lock. Tracking her down like a fucking bloodhound. He's hungry for her, he's STARVING, he's BARKING MAD THAT ANYONE IS TRYING TO GET IN HIS WAY

Little bird? Little bird?? Little bird??? LITTLE BIRD??????????

THE NAME I HAD HIM GIVE HER IN MY FIRST BURNINGCHEESE FIC, WHICH I WROTE DAYS BEFORE THIS FUCKER EVEN RELEASED? THE NAME ALL THE OTHER SHIPPERS HAVE HAD HIM CALL HER TOO? YOU CANONIZED THAT? YOU MADE IT REAL? YOU MADE THE PET NAME HE HAS FOR HER REAL??? I CAN READ THIS IN A DIALOGUE BUBBLE FOR REAL? THIS IS IN THE GAME FOR REAL? ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW???

"How good it is to see you in one piece" SMILING AND LAUGHING BECAUSE HE'S GLAD SHE'S OK? TELLING HER SO TO HER FACE? MY GUY

Every step she takes that is wrong to others is right to him. Bust out of jail? Yes good I like that, I want it, I knew she wouldn't disappoint me. Lead him on, make him chase her, have them play hide-and-seek? Yes good, this is fun, I love the thrill of a chase, I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE I CAN FUCKING SMELL YOU I CAN FEEL YOUR FUCKING SOUL YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME LITTLE BIRD. Not taking his own goddamn power back? What kind of fool would make such a stupid, regrettable decisi- JK HE'S GLAD HE MADE THIS DECISION, THAT MEANS SHE CAN BE HERSELF AND KICK HIS ASS STILL, THIS IS WHAT HE WANTED, THIS IS EVERYTHING HE WANTED, SHE IS EVERYTHING HE WANTED! YES! (Also, one Freudian slip of several where he says it's HER Soul Jam and not HIS. He's already handing it over to her in his mind. Why? Why tho? Didn't he want it back? Guess not, huh? Guess having the pretty cheese lady beat his ass was too much of a turn-on, huh???)

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? ARE YOU FOR FUCKING REAL? HE SAYS THIS TO HER? WITH THAT FACE? WITH THAT TONE OF VOICE? SAYING SHE'S LOVELY? THAT WHAT SHE'S DOING IS LOVELY? CALLING WHAT THEY'RE DOING A "DANCE"? TELLING HER TO KEEP IT UP? TELLING HER HE'S THOROUGHLY ENJOYING THIS?

HE KEEPS TRYING TO REASON WITH HER. HE KEEPS TRYING TO TALK TO HER, TO GET THROUGH TO HER, TO GET IT INTO HER PRETTY LITTLE BIRD SKULL THAT HE'S RIGHT. THAT DESTRUCTION IS THE ONLY WAY. Why go to that trouble? Why does he give a single, solitary fuck what she thinks or feels? Why even bother speaking on the matter at all, if it's a fundamental truth in his eyes already? WHY KEEP TELLING HER TO FIGHT, TO KEEP PUSHING, UNTIL SHE UNDERSTANDS HIM? WHY DOES HE WANT HER TO UNDERSTAND HIM? WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK? And what's this about "and see the day"? Didn't you want to kill her, Burning Spice? Didn't you want to crush her, break her to pieces? Was that another Freudian slip there? Did your mask fall off for a second? DO YOU NOT ACTUALLY WANT HER TO DIE? DO YOU WANT HER TO LIVE, TO STAND UP AND FIGHT, JUST SO SHE'S FORCED TO RECKON WITH THE TRUTH OF YOUR PHILOSOPHY? WHY DO YOU CARE, MOTHERFUCKER? HUH? WHY???

"Stop teasing me" my brother in the Witches we ALL know you don't mean that. You've been BEGGING her to tease you the past two fucking chapters. Stop lying you dumb fuck, your face is giving it all away anyway

He's still clamoring for them to get fucking high together, honestly wtf is wrong with him? Drug-fueled combat, is that his kink? Also boy he sure has a vested interest in her enjoying their battle, doesn't he

She wants more? She wants more of him? She wants more of what he's got? She wants more fun? She wants him to strike a pose that clearly shows off his arms and chest more? YOU GOT IT BABYGIRL-

"You would destroy everything you have, just to get to me?"

"FUCK YES!!!"

My guy. My man. My cookie. My bro. My dude. Your mask fell off. Your mask fell off, my guy. You just told her point-blank that you'll kill people to get her. You'll blow up your own house to get her. You'll trash everything you ever owned to get her. You even have excuses ready to go to justify it. "Oh, it's all garbage, if you want it go ahead. This place ugly as fuck, I hate it, I wanted it gone anyway." Burning Spice. Burning Spice Cookie. You just admitted out loud that you are so obsessed with her that you will tear down your entire life for her. You just told her that to her fucking face, with a big, dumb grin. You've got the "happy" sprite equipped, buddy. You're HAPPY to tell her in no uncertain terms that all that matters to you is going after her. Fighting her. Getting to her. HER. ALL THAT MATTERS TO YOU IS HER!!!!!!!!! YOU JUST FUCKING SAID THAT SHIT OUT LOUD!!!! CAUGHT IN 4K AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN MAD!!!!! YOU'RE NOT EVEN DENYING THE ALLEGATIONS!!!! THIS CAN BE USED AGAINST YOU IN COURT, BURNING SIMP COOKIE!!!!!!

If he doesn't compliment her in some way, even indirectly, at least once per conversation, he will spontaneously combust. Pointing out how different and interesting she is, how she breaks the mold, how she defies the cycle of change and history even after it's already chewed her up and spat her out. Just say you want to put your dick inside of her, dude, please this is fucking embarrassing-

Ok nvm bro is straight up having the biggest, hottest orgasm of his entire fucking life right now, he's straight up speechless, he says like 3 coherent words to her after she awakens and then he's just looking like THIS and smiling so hard his damn is about to be split open by that ecstatic grin. Laughing his stupid, horny, obsessed, creepy ass off. Bro looks like he's CHEERING FOR HER in this shot, are you fucking kidding me? He's HAPPY she got back up, he's HAPPY she got a power boost, he's HAPPY she's kicking his ass, JUST LOOK AT THAT BEAUTIFUL SMILE, HE'S SO IN LOVE IT HURTS

And last, but not least:

Was this really necessary lol

BurningCheese is canon, Burning Simp Cookie is down terminal, we can all fuck off home and die now, I will now be ascending to Heaven (for 5 seconds before God smacks me back down to Hell, because no way I deserve paradise for all of my bullshit lol), thank you goodbye

[moongreenlight]

Nanny!Reader x John Price hnnnnngh

Tw/Cw: Cheating, mentions of drug use and abuse.

@ceilidho put the words ‘marriage kink’ and ‘ambiguous gray blob wife’ into my head and it has been eating away at my psyche for DAYS.

The Maddie from Euphoria of it all, honestly.

Getting the job through a Craigslist ad because it pays better than some of the office jobs you’d been perusing and it comes with free housing and a car to use? It’s a no brainer.

The kids are alright. Spoiled, but not entirely obnoxious. They’re school-age, so you really only deal with them for breakfast and a few hours after school. Their mother is absent. Some sort of philanthropist who travels for work and prefers to jet-set instead of sitting home. Their father is lovely. Truly picture perfect.

He only brought you on because he couldn’t step away from work, and he wouldn’t hear of sending his children to some daycare. Too impersonal. He prefers to get to know the person raising his cubs. He’s sweet like that.

John doesn’t expect much of you. Decently tidy house. Well-tended kin. A pot of coffee in the morning before he’s off to work, and a hot supper if he’s home late.

Leaves you to your own devices while the kids are at school. What’s his is yours. At first, you mainly stuck to your quarters and the living room, but after so long, you got a little lax.

Started wandering the house. Awfully fucking big for a philanthropist and a military man with three kids, but you’re not one to speculate. You try out the hot tub. The jacuzzi bath in the primary en-suite bathroom. The home gym in the basement.

Even that gets boring after some time. Too routine. So you get adventurous. Get your paws on the mother's medicine cabinet. Take a cocktail of her nearly expired prescriptions and take a few hours to yourself in the bath.

You must have fallen asleep, because the snap of a door closing makes you jerk your head up off the cold rim of the tub.

"Hello?" You're trying to figure out who exactly would be home. Scrambling to yank the plug out of the drain with one hand and track down your phone with the other. Suddenly very worried you slept through school pickup.

But when your pruny fingers finally swatted at the screen hard enough, you were grateful to see you'd only really dozed off for twenty minutes or so. Still no response even though you were fairly certain you heard the door come from somewhere upstairs with you.

"Someone home?"

The drain was loud. A dead giveaway of your neglecting your job. Gargling as it sucked away the evidence of your lavender-scented bath. What's worse? You'd forgotten a towel. Mind fogged by some desperate housewives-adjacent combination of stimulants and muscle relaxers.

You nudged the bathroom door open with a dripping wet toe, poked your head out to see what was going on. Seeing nobody, you decided that maybe you were just hearing things. Just the house settling.

So you inched forward, cringing at the trail of wet footprints you were leaving on the carpet of John's bedroom floor. You made a mental note to tidy those somehow before you went to get the kids. It wasn't until you were out on the walk over the living room that you heard someone clearing their throat in the kitchen.

It made you whirl your head around, scrambling to cover your modesty as best you could. Maybe it was a contractor? John had a bad habit of not reminding you that his buddies were coming over to do some project or another.

"That how you dress when you've got the place to yourself?"

You wouldn't be so lucky.

"J-John?"

A chuff from just beyond the wall downstairs. Strategically positioning himself where he could see, but wouldn't be seen.

"I-I didn't know you'd be home. God- I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure if it was better to run to your room or stay where you were. This was uncharted waters, after all.

A tsk, like he was sucking his teeth to keep the smile from creeping into his voice.

"In my room?"

Your mouth is painfully dry. You can't even manage to swallow.

"I'm so sorry, John. So sorry."

"Why don't you dry off and then we'll chat?"

[lovelettersfromluna]

The Summoning

summary: so now you’re fucking your roommate on the regular, what could possibly go wrong? It’s just for the camera, right?

an: You guys!! I’m so so happy with the feedback if received for the first chapter of this fic, I want to give you guys as much camgirl!Ellie as I possibly can. So, as before, let’s keep this short and sweet so we can get into it, love you so so so much (also shout out to everyone’s comments and asks on what they wanted to see for this chapter! Yoi all helped me sm! You all know who you are hehe)

warnings: smut!! 18+, MDNI, camgirl!ellie, roommate!ellie, biker!Ellie (there’s lots of tropes in this one lol), JELOUS!ELLIE, mentions of an older woman but it’s so brief, mentions of alternate love interest, face sitting, fingering, filming of intercourse, use of strap, mentions of the word cock, ANGST!, slight fluff??, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here!, and part 3 here!

A soft puff of air blew past your lips as you finished organizing the last shelf of records, your eyes looking down at the remainder vinyls that most definitely wouldn’t fit into any of the space you had.

God you hated the holidays.

Well you didn’t, you loved the colder months. It was so cozy, and welcoming, however you hated it as a retail worker. With the changing of the seasons came your manager with boxes of new vintage records that he explained were in high demand for the customers coming in and out of the city, all of which you had to change out and organize from the last collection you’d had for the summer time.

So the holidays were fine, just not when you were working.

Not to mention, the only thing plaguing your mind these days was a specific brunette who had quite the tongue on her.

After that night, Ellie had you rewatch the video, making sure you were okay with it, and it was okay to post. It was weird, because you’d never really seen yourself that way. You never moan too loud, or put on too much of a show during sex, it just was what it was, and it wasn’t ever really done with an audience in mind. But seeing yourself in Ellie’s lap, her strong hands running up and down your body, working on your pussy like a fucking pro, you had to admit.

You looked damn fucking good on camera.

And you weren’t the only one that thought so. After you gave Ellie the okay to post and edit the video, the response was amazing. Gone where the comments asking where Ellie’s usually girl was, missing the chemistry they had, her whiny moans and pretty body, all of which were replaced by a sea of comments and donations coming in, all on your behalf. They asked Ellie to please keep you around, putting in suggestions of what they wanted to see next, what they wanted to see her do to you, next.

Ellie wasn’t wrong, the crowd fucking loved you.

So? You filmed another video. And another, and another, and another, until you and Ellie had created nearly an entire box set of home movies for her adoring fans, all of which had become your adoring fans practically over night.

And fuck, did Ellie know what she was doing.

Sure, you’d had your fair share of good sex in the past. Your ex was pretty good with her hands, and there was that one girl you were seeing for a few months, she was okay with her strap.

But Ellie? Jesus Christ, you quickly caught onto why Julia acted the way she did after Ellie was done with her.

It was all you could think about, the way that Ellie treated your body when you were filming. The way she never failed to pay attention to every part of you before herself, the way she kissed you, the way her hands ran down your body, the way she simply knew how to pleasure a woman.

And it wasn’t like there was any real harm in any of it, right? In helping your roommate with her line of work? That’s what it was after all. You helped Ellie make her content, and she fucked you until you could barely think straight.

In simpler terms, Ellie knew how to fuck, and she knew how to fuck good. Filming with her only further proved that.

Your eyes scanned the record store once more, a stack of records in your hands as you tried looking for another place where these god forsaken vinyls could go. You were close to simply shoving them underneath the cash register, calling it a night and going home before the drunk tourists eager to visit the city got in your way of getting to your bus stop.

You spotted a spot on top of one of the shelves, which made you huff softly in annoyance. You usually avoided it since you couldn’t reach it, vowing to never put yourself out of your way for a bunch of records no one will want to buy, but there weren’t many and you figured you already had them out, so might as well finish what you started.

As you struggled to push the records up into the tall shelf, you heard the little ding at the front door of your shop over the soft music that you had playing. You couldn’t even bother to turn around, knowing it was most definitely some drunk idiot trying to buy a last minute gift for someone.

“Sorry…we’re…fuck…we’re closed” you huffed out as you struggled even further, the tips of your fingers finally pushing one of the records up and sliding it into place. You didn’t even realize you didn’t hear the usual apology paired with the bell ringing again, signaling that the person had left.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand push into the sliver of skin that was slightly exposed between your jeans and your top, making you shriek loudly and recoil from the persons touch. Once you turned around, you were prepared to smash the stack of records you had over the idiots head who thought it was okay to come in and touch random girls while they worked.

But you only came face to face with those gorgeous green eyes that you seemed to constantly see, even when she wasn’t around.

You let out a soft gasp, reaching forward and landing a not so friendly punch on her leather clad arms, a soft huff leaving your lips as you watched your roommate snort softly at you, trying to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Ellie?? I could’ve dropped these” you whine, looking down at the disheveled records before you turned around, going back to trying to pushing them back into their spot.

Ellie sighed softly as she came down from her laughing fit, setting her helmet down on the row of records next to her as she leaned against it. “Shouldn’t you be locking the door once you’re closed? Sounds like a safety hazard to me” she hummed out, clearly trying to get under your skin.

You could practically hear that stupid fucking smirk on her lips, which makes you roll your eyes, even if she was right.

“I had a customer before I started putting these away…I’ll lock up once I’m finished” you explained, still struggling with the second record you had, which makes Ellie chuckle softly.

She pushed herself off of the row she was leaned up against before she stood behind you, her chest pressing against your back, one of her hands resting on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she reached up with ease and pushed the record in with ease.

You let out a soft huff softly, looking down at her hand on your waist before you turn around, looking up at her and narrowing your eyes at the girl. “Is that really necessary?” You question as you gesture to her hand, which only makes her shrug before bringing her hand down and giving your ass a firm squeeze, “not at all. Gimme those and go grab your stuff, I’m taking you home” she explained before she promptly took the records and put them away on the shelf for you.

You simply stare at her in disbelief, watching as she put away the records with ease. She looked over at you, nodding her head towards the back where she knew you kept your stuff while you were working. “Go on. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic” she explained, which makes you roll your eyes at her before you stomp off to go and grab your things.

Damn her for being so fucking hot.

Soon, you had your jacket on and your bag was slung over your shoulder. When you walked out to the store front to shut off the lights and the music, Ellie was scrolling through her phone, leaned up against the cashier, seemingly waiting for you. She gave you a soft smile when she noticed you were there, pushing her phone into her pocket. “Ready?” She asked, moving to grab her helmet.

You nodded, returning the soft smile before you grabbed the keys, nodding your head towards the door. “Ready” you confirm.

She followed behind you, waiting for you as you locked up the store before leading her out.

You shivered slightly when you both step out into the cold air, watching as the lights of the city illuminate the street, welcoming everyone who was in need of a night out. You just wanted to get home.

You watched as Ellie walked in front of you, setting her helmet down before she opened up her seat to grab her spare and handing it to you before she put hers on and swung her leg over her bike to get on.

Usually, Ellie didn’t pick you up from work. She was most likely busy filming with Julia, finishing up far too late to meet you at work. Sometimes, she’d be in the area and she’d pick you up, but that wasn’t something that happened quite often for you two.

But, ever since you took Julia’s place, Ellie had been picking you up a lot more often.

You took the helmet from her, putting it on your head before you got onto Ellie’s bike, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head along her leather clad back. You heard a soft chuckle muffled by her helmet, her head turning to the side a bit as she felt you cuddle into her from behind.

"Don't need to tell you to hold on tight, do I?" She teased, which earns a soft pinch to her side from you.

Before you know it, Ellie is turning on the engine to her bike, revving it a bit, and you two are speeding down the streets of the city towards your apartment.

The feeling of the cold breeze kissing your exposed skin as Ellie drove you both down the streets made your blood pump. It was fucking stupid, but drives home with her had a way of truly making you feel alive for a bit.

You’d never tell her that, though. It would blow her head up way too much.

Ellie had a tendency to show off in many aspects of her life. One of those manifested whenever she was on her bike. She’d rev her engine when she saw a group of pretty girls, tattooed hands gripping the handles of her bike as she watched them swoon over her. She’d get a kick out of it whenever they’d squeal over her, trying their best to call her back, an attempt at trying to get her to turn around and give them more attention.

You thought it was stupid. It was just Ellie on a bike after all.

Ellie stopped once she reached a red light, her back straightening out a bit as she rested one of her hands on her thighs, patting a mindlessly rhythm into her jean clad leg as she waited for it to turn green so you could both get moving again. Your hands loosened a bit on her waist as you waited as well.

You noticed from the corner of your eye a car pulling up next to you. It’s a sleek black 1969 dodge charger, the lights of the city bouncing off of the shiny paint. It isn’t too flashy, but enough so that anyone can appreciate. You can’t help but gawk a bit at the beautiful car, not at all noticing the window slowly rolling down.

You hear a whistle, which catches both yours and Ellie’s attention. In the car, is an older woman. You took not of her features, noticing how pretty she was, long hair tucked up into a bun, body adorned in what you could only assume was an expensive suit. You notice her lips tugged beneath her teeth as her dark eyes bore holes into your direction, and you can only assume she’s gawking at Ellie, as one usually does when she’s out on her bike. As you look closer, you realize she isn’t looking at Ellie.

She’s looking at you.

And you can’t even deny that your chest doesn’t warm up, because she’s clearly extremely beautiful. Her strong, ring clad hands gripping the steering wheel as her eyes travel down your body. You didn’t think that when you tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and your old brown jacket that same morning that you’d be getting attention from anyone, let alone from a fucking rich milf in the middle of the road.

But you aren’t the only one to notice, because you feel Ellie shift forward, her own hands going back to grip the handle bars of her bike, her head never leaving the direction of the woman who’s shamelessly undressing you with her eyes. You gasp softly underneath your own helmet when the feeling of Ellie revving her bike catches you off guard, ripping you away from the trance the woman has you in. You turn your head to look at Ellie, hands tightening a bit around her waist to prepare your take off.

But Ellie’s head never leaves the woman.

This catches the woman’s attention, and she merely chuckles softly before she sticks her hand out her window and gives Ellie a slight wave, as if to silently tell her she’d back off. The light turns green, and while you think that’s the end of it, you catch a glimpse of the woman sending a wink your way before she zooms off, which prompts Ellie to do soon after, just as fast, knuckles turning white as she gripped her handle bars.

If you weren’t holding on tight enough to Ellie, you’d probably have gone flying.

When you both get home, you decide not to question the very bizarre interaction you both had with that woman, figuring it was just Ellie being Ellie, and there wasn’t really anything to it anyways.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It makes it even stranger that when you both walk through the door, Ellie doesn’t show a single sign of annoyance, which makes you feel like you’re hallucinating even more than you were before. She’s walking into the apartment, tugging off her jacket and tossing it on a nearby chair, and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down onto the couch.

So yeah, you’re probably just tired.

You let out a soft hum as you tug off your own jacket before hanging it up, grabbing Ellie’s and hanging it up as well. She had a bad habit of shedding her layers off as soon as she got through the door.

You stand before Ellie in the living room, her legs spread as she babysits a bottle of water, eyes never leaving yours. You watch as she pats her lap quietly, which forces you to give her a look of disbelief.

Usually, you’d have a witty remark for that sort of gesture from Ellie, which would often times be paired with a pillow to her face. But there’s simply something about the way her legs are spread out on the couch, looking so fucking inviting, that makes you quietly follow her orders, and straddle her lap.

Now, most intimacy was supposed to be saved for the camera, it was an unspoken rule of filming with Ellie, or it was a rule you set for yourself. Apart from warming up before filming, letting Ellie get you nice and wet for her before you got on camera with her, there wasn’t really a reason to have any sort of intimacy with her. Things were supposed to go back to normal when you weren’t on camera, back to how things were as roommates.

But, you’d be lying if you said that’s how it was. You and Ellie had always had an affectionate relationship, one that never went without cuddling, caressing, even crashing in your bed from time to time when she couldn’t sleep. You were no stranger to Ellie’s strong hands on your body, because that was just Ellie. She had a thing for gripping and groping, always wanting her hands to be occupied with something whenever you were near, you assumed that’s how she was with everyone.

There just seemed to be something about getting regularly fucked by Ellie that made the intimacy take a different level, a different course that made things feel…different.

And of course, there’s no harm in that. You watched Ellie kiss Julia goodnight every time she left the house, always taking an extra few minutes to hold her when they were done. If they could do it, why couldn’t you two do it?

Ellie let out a soft hum of approval when you straddled her lap, disregarding the water bottle so that both her hands were free to grip your hips, pulling you closer to her. Your hands went around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck as she pressed her face against your neck, giving your skin a deep inhale.

“Missed you today…” she mumbled softly against your skin, which makes you roll your eyes playfully, yet still keeping her close. “You saw me this morning before I left” you argue softly, which only earns a soft whine from Ellie, you can feel her lips form a pout against your throat before she presses soft kisses to it.

“So? Still missed you” she explained, her voice low as she spoke. You can’t help but giggle softly, staring down at the girl as she litters your throat with soft kisses.

But this feels way too fucking intimate, even for you and Ellie.

You clear your throat, tugging her hair back a bit to force her to look at you, which makes Ellie groan softly, half in annoyance, and half in pleasure. She loved it whenever you did what you wanted with her.

“We filming tonight?” You ask quickly, a sorry attempt at trying to interrupt this soppy little scene you and her are having.

You see a flash of something ripple through Ellie’s green eyes, something you can’t quite put your finger on, because she’s changing her expression much too quickly, giving you and eager nod as her hands go from gently caressing you, to gripping your ass tightly. This makes you whine softly in her lap.

“Eager to have me…aren’t you baby” she chuckles softly, the shift in her personality clear as her eyes quickly darken with lust. You swallow nervously, always feeling small in front of Ellie whenever she looked at you that way. You feel the way she slowly begins grinding your hips down into her lap, strong hands gripping you and moving you as she pleased. You can only nod, your lips forming a gentle pout before a gentle sigh leaves them.

“Always…” you moan out softly, which makes her smirk up at you proudly. You’d gotten so good at voicing what you wanted these past few weeks, it made warmth pool at Ellie’s core.

She gives your ass a firm spank before she nodded her head towards her room. “Go get the camera, baby” she ordered gently, that delicious tone of dominance lacing her words, you quickly followed her instructions, getting up from her lap and going to her room to get the equipment.

That was another thing, with your new presence in Ellie’s work, came a change of scenery in her videos.

Ellie usually kept her videos and streams exclusive to her bedroom, having the common courtesy to not fuck all over your shared apartment. But now that it was just you two, there was a new sense of freedom when it came to filming with you. It happened one day when Ellie was finger fucking your pussy on the couch, and had the bright idea to grab her camera, because it was just too fucking good to not hit record on.

Once again, another example of intimacy outside of filming.

You returned with all of the filming equipment, never knowing what Ellie had planned for a shoot, so instead opting to bring everything so she could choose from.

Ellie smirks softly as she sits up from her spot on the couch, eyes low and filled with lush as you walk back into the living room. You lift up her camera and her tripod, a confused frown on your lips as you look between the two. “M’not sure what you wanted to film, so I brought both. I can always go back and-“ she’s quickly cutting you off, standing up from the couch and slowly making her way to you before she takes both out of your hands gently, and sets them down on your coffee table.

“We can focus on that, later…I need to make sure you’re ready..” she purred out, making you swallow back a whimper.

Her hands go down to yours, gently gripping your arms before she pushes them to rest around her neck, her own hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush to her body.

‘Making sure you were ready’ was just Ellie’s way of saying she wanted a moment with you off camera.

You simply give her a nod, your head already tilting forward as you lean in to press a kiss to her soft lips. Ellie groans in approval, her head tilting to the side a bit as soon as you were pressed against her, deepening the kiss. Her nimble fingers slide down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze while also using the leverage to pull you closer, pressing your chest firmly against hers. This make you gasp, and as always, she uses that opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Ellie smirks into the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hands massage your ass through your jeans.

“Been needy for me, baby? I’ve been needy for you…” she confessed between the feverish kiss. It was slow, and dirty, and so fucking erotic, it had your panties soaked already.

All you could do was nod, desperately pushing your lips back against hers as you tugged at her shirt. “Thought about you all day…” you said mindlessly, which makes Ellie chuckle softly against you.

“Yeah? God…me fuckin too…kept thinking about your pretty cunt all day…fucked my self so many times to the thought of you…” she groaned out. Her words make you moan a bit louder.

You’re so fucked out already, that you can barely register what it is that she just confessed to you.

Ellie hums softly as she breaks the kiss, looking down at you as you stare up at her with lust filled eyes and a needy pout. She tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, her own swollen lip tugged between her teeth.

“Bet you loved when that woman was staring at you…didn’t you.”

This catches you off guard.

Your eyes widen a bit, shocked over the fact that Ellie was even bringing it up to you, especially when all you wanted was her hands on your cunt, not the image of another woman in your head.

You don’t know why, but your first response is to quickly shake your head.

“What? She wasn’t…I didn’t notice her staring” you try, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches you, catching your chin between her thumb and pointer finger as she angles your face up a bit more to stare up at her.

“It’s okay baby…she was very pretty…” she agreed, giving a slow nod before she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, head cocking to the side in a teasing manner before she hummed out softly.

“You think she could make you feel as good as I do?” She questioned, blown out pupils surrounded by a sliver of green staring down into your own.

And again, you’re quickly shaking your head, because you know for a fact that there is probably only a handful of people on this planet that can fuck you as good as Ellie can, and that’s being generous to the general population. Ellie fucks good, and anyone who gets to experience that is fucking lucky.

They’re also ruined for anyone else who comes after her.

“Fuck…you know no one can…come on El…need you so bad…” you whine softly, giving Ellie a whiny little pout as you tug at her shirt further, feeling like you’ll explode if you don’t have her hands on you in the next few seconds. Ellie simply chuckles, watching as you whine and pout for her, a sorry attempt at trying to find your way out of the conversation.

“You’re damn right they can’t…such a good girl…” she praises, which makes you whine softly.

Ellie hums softly as she stares down at your body, giving your waist a gentle tap. “Stay here.” She ordered softly before she moved over to set up the camera.

You watch as she sets up the tripod, making it level with the couch, low enough so that it stops right where the back of the couch ends, so that it doesn’t catch your kitchen in the background. She turns it on before she goes behind it, bending down a bit to make sure the angle is good before she nods to herself before she moved to sit down on the couch much like she was earlier, legs spread wide, her dark jeans stretching over her toned thighs. Her arms stretched along the back of the couch, dark eyes boring holes as she watched you.

“Strip” she ordered.

Fuck.

You immediately began slowly stripping for her. Staring with your t shirt, then with your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties for a moment before you removed those as well, until you were fully naked in front of Ellie, her eyes eating you up like a hungry animal.

“So fuckin pretty…Jesus…” she groaned softly underneath her breath, letting you simply stand there, naked for her, under the dim lighting of your cozy living room.

After a moment passed, she nodded her head towards the camera. “Start recording, and then come over here.” She instructed once again, and she didn’t need to tell you twice.

You slowly walked over to the camera. On the screen, you could see Ellie on the camera, only her body visible, looking so fucking strong and confident. You knew from the angle of the camera alone, that Ellie’s viewers were in for a treat with this one.

And so were you.

When you hit record, you made your way over to Ellie slowly. She hummed softly, eyes staring up at you as you stood over her before she looked down at her lap, as if silently telling you to take a seat. You straddled her lap, the rough material of her jeans on your naked body making you hiss softly.

Ellie hummed, her large hands roaming your body the second you were on her lap. “Fuck…look at you baby..came home to all this?” Her words make you frown in confusion for only a moment, yet you quickly catch onto the fantasy that she’s trying to sell to her viewers.

You give a soft giggle, nodding as you lean in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “Missed you so much…wanted to surprise you..” you purr out softly, a soft whine leaving your lips once Ellie began to slowly grind you down on her lap as she was earlier, yet this time it makes you huff softly, the rough material of her jeans dragging along your sensitive core.

“Aren’t I lucky…coming home to my pretty girl like this…fuck…you’ve been on my mind all fucking day…” she groaned out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at your naked body, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she let her hand come in between you both, catching your slippery clit against her thumb. She watches your facial expression change, a soft moan leaving your lips as you rest your hands on either one of her shoulders, looking down at her hand toying with you.

“So wet already…stand up for me baby” she hummed out softly as she gave your hip a gentle pat. You listened, standing up from her lap, which allowed her to lay down onto the couch, one of her knees bent up as the other leg laid down. She gestured you over to her.

“Come sit on my face princess” she ordered.

Her words alone made you whine, and you wasted no time straddled her face, either side of your legs shielding her face from the camera.

As soon as you were settled, her tongue was out, inviting you down to take a seat as you rested a bit of your wait onto it, your pussy pressing against the warm muscle. You moan out loudly, back arching as you slowly began rocking your hips back and forth on Ellie’s flattened tongue.

The apartment was soon filled with the sounds of your moans, and Ellie’s tongue lapping away at your soaked cunt. It was times like this that Ellie had to depend on you to carry out the vocals, seeing as her mouth was a bit…occupied.

“F-feels so good…missed you so much today…” you moan out shyly, testing the waters with your voice a bit. Ellie groaned below you, her own hips bucking upwards, grinding into nothing as she gave you a quiet gesture to keep going.

You whined, giving her a slow nod as you kept going.

“You look so pretty…fuck…I love your tongue so much…” you moan out again, which earns another moan from Ellie, sending vibrations onto your sopping cunt. You moan loudly again, one of her hands coming up from around your thigh, to snake up your body and toy with your boobs, massaging the skin, pinching your nipples, her hips still bucking up into nothing with need.

You notice, turning around a bit and catching the way her hips bucked up with need. You whimper softly, reaching a hand behind you to undo her jeans before you push them down her pants, her own clit throbbing against your fingers as you begin rubbing her, watching as her eyes roll back when you begin doing this.

“Feels good? Fuck…you’re so fucking wet…fuuuckk…wanna…wanna cum with you…please” you practically beg, your arm already becoming sore from the uncomfortable position, yet you still paid the upmost attention to her poor needy pussy.

Ellie always prioritized your pleasure, it was time you do the same.

Ellie moaned and groaned against your pussy, her tongue speeding up the closer she got, her pussy grinding into your fingers desperately. You arched your back, eyebrows furrowed as you let your head fall back, the pleasure becoming too much.

You knew she was close, the grip on your thighs was almost deadly, and you were too. It wasn’t long before her hips were sputtering, her arousal soaking your fingers as she came. This alone was enough to make you shriek with pleasure, nearly falling back as your arm nearly gave out from behind you, but Ellie’s strong arms were already on your hips to keep you up, pulling you further up as she lapped at your core, helping you ride out your orgasm.

The thing you hated about filming with Ellie the most? You couldn’t even scream her name when she made you cum.

You breathed hard, your exhausted pussy shying away from Ellie’s tongue as you stared down at her, body back in its upright position, her gorgeous green eyes staring up at yours, cheeks red as she gave your pussy kitty licks.

“You should stay out late more often..” you tease, which earns a soft giggle from both of you.

Ellie gives your pussy one last kiss before she pushes you down her body so you’re straddling her waist, her eyes low and hazy as she stares up at you, gently massaging the skin of your thighs.

You always enjoyed the aftermath with her, the silence that came with it, the come down was almost as good as the sex itself. You were both so fucked out, so utterly satisfied, the warmth that overtook you was almost unbearable. You could stay there forever if you truly wanted to.

But alas, it never lasted long enough.

You felt the familiar tap on your thighs, a silent reminder that Ellie had to indeed get up and stop the camera recording. You roll off of her with wobbly thighs, cuddling into the couch and grabbing a nearby blanket to shield your body from the cold air of your apartment.

You watch with sleepy eyes as Ellie gets up, buttoning up her jeans and turning off the camera before pulling it front the tripod to look back at the footage, making sure it was all recorded correctly.

You hear your moans echoing from the device, which makes you whine softly. You always hated hearing yourself, no matter how hot you and Ellie looked. Ellie chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watched the video for a moment longer before she shut off the camera.

“That improv of yours was pretty damn good…they’re gonna like that” she added, making you giggle softly before giving her a shrug. “I always like playing with your pussy” your words make Ellie groan, and she’s suddenly giving you a look of warning, a smirk playing on her lips to match.

“Don’t play with something you can’t handle sweetheart” she warned you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite the fire you feel from that look alone.

“Please, you wouldn’t know how to fuck me even if you had the chance” you challenge her.

Oh yeah, that was another thing. Ellie still hadn’t properly fucked you yet.

You huffed softly as you tugged yet another top off of your body. You’d tried on nearly every article of clothing you had in your closet, yet it just wasn’t fucking working. It was times like this, that you simply wanted to burn all of your clothes and never leave your house again.

You were currently getting ready for a date, a girl you’d met at the record store had ended up asking you out on a date while you were showing her to the new age rock section that the store carried.

The first thing that went through your mind when the girl asked, wasn’t how pretty she was, or how nice her fingers looked wrapped around the edge of the thin vinyls in her hand.

No, none of that went through your head. The only thing that went through your head when the girl asked you out was Ellie.

And that scared you.

Because it’s Ellie for gods sake. The girl you’ve been living with for almost three years now, the girl who you watched eat dry cereal from the box instead of making herself a proper meal, the girl who you’ve watched genuinely find family guy funny…

The girl who’d been playing your body like a fucking guitar for almost a month now.

You realized, you needed this date.

So you agreed, giving the girl your number and telling her to text you so you guys could set up a date.

The guilt was eating you alive, because while Ellie would be fucking you with a dildo, her lips firmly on yours, you knew in the back of your head you had a girl waiting to see you at the end of the week.

And it was conflicting because did you even have to tell Ellie? Would it be stupid if you did? Would it be wrong if you didn’t? It was still just Ellie, after all. Sure, she’d seen you naked now, and she’d made you cum more times than you could count, and you her, but she was still your friend. She was still your normal roommate, your Ellie. And there was nothing really holding you back from going on dates.

Right?

You chalked up all your guilt by convincing yourself that Ellie was probably talking to other girls too, actively searching for a girlfriend, or even a permanent filming partner while you temporarily filled that spot.

Because while you guys never formally spoke about it, that’s all you were, temporary.

It worked out perfectly, because Ellie had gone out for the night, texting you and telling you she had some stuff to do, errands to run. It gave you the place all to yourself to get ready. You would’ve felt extremely stupid sneaking out of your own apartment to avoid any awkward interactions with Ellie. Even though you weren’t even sure if it would even be awkward.

You ended up settling on a little black dress, a pair of black boots and a leather bomber jacket, an outfit you had long since ran dry with how many times you wore, but you looked good, and you weren’t going to to stray away from that.

You fluffed out your hair after you finished up your makeup, spraying on your favorite perfume before you grabbed your phone, sending record store girl a quick text, letting her know that you’d be leaving your house now to meet her at the bar that you two had agreed on going to for your first date.

You couldn’t ignore the sour taste in your mouth, and the aching feeling in your belly as you looked around your room, making your final rounds before you left. There was something about the entire ordeal that just felt…dirty. The fact that you were sneaking around, hiding something that you felt needed to be hidden…

Leaving Ellie for the night.

All of it made you feel ill, and the fact that you felt that way made you feel even worse.

But regardless of it all, Ellie was out and it was all in your head. Ellie probably wouldn’t even care if you went out with a girl! She’d be happy for you, she’d send you out of the apartment with an encouraging slap on your ass before telling you to wrap it up before you-

Suddenly, you could hear Ellie opening up the door from the other side of your apartment door. You feel like you’ll freeze up and die in that very moment.

She walks into the house humming a tune you can’t quite find, probably some song that had been stuck in her head. She has her helmet tucked under her arm, and a brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite take out spot slung along her long fingers. She doesn’t notice you at first, because she’s too busy cursing under her breath as she tries to get herself inside, a low groan leaving her lips a she tosses her keys into the entrance bowl, kicking the door shut behind her.

“Babe? You home? I brought dinner” she calls out.

You feel sick to your fucking stomach.

Because it feels too domestic, too romantic, too fucking far for you and Ellie for her to be calling out for you that way, to be ordering your favorite dinner and bringing it home for you. You aren’t even entirely sure what prompted her to do this, and you don’t know who you’re more annoyed with, her for doing it, or you for not being honest with her.

You’re too caught up in your thoughts, because you barely realize that Ellie’s eyes are finally on yours, a confused frown as she stares at you up and down, clearly readying yourself to leave the apartment.

“You…look so pretty. Are we going somewhere?” She questions slowly, her sentence slipping into a tone of worry, as if she’d forgotten about something that you planned for the both of you, her big green eyes frantically searching yours.

You can’t fucking do this anymore.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you clear your throat, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress as you try to find your voice, find your words to break it to Ellie.

“I um….I have a date tonight” you mumble out softly, barely loud enough for Ellie to hear, hoping that she doesn’t and some miracle snatches this ridiculous conversation away so you don’t have to experience it.

But she does hear you.

Her face goes from worried to annoyed almost instantly, her brows knitted together as her lips form a confused frown. “A date? With who?” She spits out, and the tone is too accusing for you. It makes you wince slightly, your lips forming a frown of your own as you let out a soft sigh.

“Girl I met at the record store” you sigh out, and you hate this, because it feels so far from what you and Ellie are. It feels to reminiscent of a jealous girlfriend cornering you, confused as to why you’d ever leave her when she was there waiting for you, why on earth would you pass her up for anyone else when she gives you everything anyways?

The energy you can feel radiating off of Ellie is the same thing you felt when that woman was looking at you on the road. It feels hostile, and possessive, it feels like she has some claim on you that you aren’t even fully aware of, and it’s the reason you decided to go on the date in the first place, because regardless of not fully knowing what it is that’s happened between you and Ellie.

You know it isn’t good.

Ellie moves to drop the food onto the coffee table, a bit too harshly in your opinion. Her strong hand goes up to run through her brown hair, one hand on her hip as she stares at the floor for a moment. You should’ve just taken that as an opportunity to leave, to avoid all of this. But you don’t.

“It’s…it’s Friday night. We’re supposed to film. We film every Friday” she argues.

Fuck.

You chew your maroon tinted bottom lip, feeling like a kid who’s done something bad and is now facing the repercussions of a disappointed parent. You feel small, and stupid, and you can’t believe you forgot about it. There had been such a blur between the schedule you had with Ellie, with far too many moments of making out with her on the couch, or her fingers finding their way into your pants whenever you were watching a movie together, that the intimacy in your brain was becoming confused with the intimacy that was needed for the camera and the camera only.

And in that moment, you realize that this needs to end.

Because maybe you and Ellie can go back to normal, maybe you can forget about this and she can find someone who is better at this stuff than you are. It’s too confusing, and it’s putting you in a bad position of thinking too deep into things while also missing the bigger picture, and you’re fucking exhausted.

You inhale deeply, opening your mouth to speak, to tell her that this isn’t what you want anymore, that this isn’t for you anymore. You have it all mapped out, how you’re going to finally tell her that this simply can’t go on anymore.

But suddenly, your phone goes off.

You frown, looking down at the glowing device in your hands. It’s a text from record store girl, she’s telling you how she just left her house, and how excited she is to see you tonight. This catches Ellie’s attention too.

She looks down at your phone, her angry and annoyed expression still present on her face.

“Is that her?” She asks. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you try pushing your phone in your jacket pocket. “Ellie I…when I get back I really think we should talk about-“ she quickly cuts you off, her voice a bit louder than it was when she first asked.

“I said…is that her?” Her words are slower, clearer, as if she wants you to hear every goddamn syllable that leaves her mouth. You know she isn’t fucking around, and you simply inhale deeply, taking your phone out of your pocket and looking at the message that was still lingering at the bottom of your Lock Screen.

“Yeah…it is….” You admit, ignoring how fucking stupid you feel for telling Ellie this. You should have left, you should have ignored her and gone on your date and had a good time so you could come home and tell her that she needed to find a new filming partner, because you weren’t cut out for this shit anymore.

She begins taking slow strides towards you, the closer she gets, the more you can smell her cologne. It makes you swallow back a whine, because her scent is the single most euphoric thing to you right now. It haunts you in your sleep, and it makes your mouth water whenever she’s on top of you.

Soon, she’s right in front of you, her green eyes staring down at your outfit, taking in everything that you have on, how pretty your hair and makeup is. Her slender fingers come up to tug at your jacket slightly, a soft puff of air exiting her nose before she speaks. “What’d she tell you? That she’s on her way? So excited to see you?” She questions, her voice low and taunting as her nimble fingers dance along your jacket, ghosting along the fabric of your dress.

“Fuckin idiot…she’s on her way to some shitty bar and I’ve got her girl practically shaking for me..” she hummed out softly.

And it was true. Ellie had hardly touched you, yet your fists were balled at your side, body practically begging for her as her skilled fingers barely gave you what you wanted. The second she was in front of you, your brain was clouded with her, with all the things you wanted from her, all the things you knew she could do to you.

“Had so much planned for us tonight, baby…wanted to finally show you off live..wanted to take care of that pretty body of yours…and you were getting all dolled up for some asshole who probably wouldn’t know how to make you cum even if she got the chance” she explains, her voice low, minty breath fanning across your face, making you whine softly.

“You’ve never dress like this for me before…” she groans out, and it makes your eyes widen a bit. Before you can open your mouth and say anything back, her skinny fingers are grabbing your chin and angling your face up to fully look at her, her green eyes staring down into yours as she licked her bottom lip slowly.

“God I can’t stand you sometimes..” she sighed out softly before she pressed her mouth against yours in a needy kiss. Your hands instantly wrap around her neck, keeping her close as her own arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her body.

It’s as if any and all moral high ground that you had was gone, replaced by only thoughts of Ellie. You let her fill you up, breath life into you as her warm tongue explored your mouth, dominated the kiss and took you on a wild fucking ride that only consisted of a single kiss from her.

Soon, she’s breaking the kiss, and it makes you whine and chase her lips. She chuckles softly, the sound dark and taunting as she stares down at your needy eyes and swollen lips. “Now you’re chasing me…poor thing…” she tuts out, clearly mocking you with a pouty tone.

She slips her hand into your jacket pocket, taking out your phone and looking at the message. She rolls her eyes, pushing the phone in between you two.

“You’re gonna call her, and you’re gonna tell her you aren’t coming” she demands. Your eyes go wide, looking up at Ellie before you quickly shake your head. “What? No! Ellie I can’t! I…can’t I just text her?” Even your own words shock you a bit, because are you seriously staying with Ellie when there was a perfectly willing girl waiting for you at a bar down the street?

If Ellie said so, then yeah. Yeah you were.

Ellie shrugged before she unlocked your phone, having learned your password way back when you two first moved in together. “Fine. I’ll call her” she nodded, her fingers scrolling through your phone to find the girls contact. This makes your eyes go wider, and you quickly snatch your phone from Ellie’s hand, because you know that Ellie will be shameless with it, and it’ll make you look way worse than you already do by flaking so last minute.

“No! No…fine…I’ll do it. Just…please be quiet, Ellie” you plead, giving her a look of warning before you sigh softly, looking down at your phone for a moment before you click the girl contact, set it to call, and put your phone to your ear.

Ellie smiles proudly, pearly teeth gleaming as her hands give your hips a firm squeeze. “That’s my fuckin girl…” she praises. Her words makes your insides flutter, core tightening around nothing as you wait for the girl to answer, a gentle pout on your lips despite the fact that your arms were still wrapped around Ellie, and she still had your body pressed against hers.

After a few rings, she finally answers. Her voice is bright and bubbly and you want to kick yourself for doing this to someone so fucking sweet.

“Hey….look…I’m really sorry but I think I’m going to have to-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips pressing against your neck, wet mouth working against your skin, bitting and sucking, sure to leave marks in the morning. It makes you gasp softly..

Because Ellie never left marks.

It wasn’t something that ever really bothered you. It helped in all honesty, you didn’t really want to be walking around littered in Ellie’s hickies, it would’ve resulted in too many questions from your coworkers and friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with that. It was just an unspoken rule, Ellie didn’t mark you, and you didn’t mark her. That was too far along the lines of being a couple for you.

But clearly, that had all changed tonight.

There was a sense of possessiveness that you could feel when she did it. Teeth and tongue sucking and biting at your soft skin, eager to claim you in any way that she possibly could. Between the feeling of it, and the fact that she was doing it, it made it hard to talk, your eyes rolling back into your head as you bit back a whimper, covering it up with a couch as you tried finding the words in your fuzzy head to speak to the girl.

Ellie smirked against your throat as she listened to you struggle, listened to the muffled words of the confused girl on the other line try to understand what it was you were saying.

You tugged at Ellie’s hair slightly, yet still kept her close as she mouthed your neck. “I…I can’t…look I’m really not feeling well..I…mph…I can’t come out tonight. I’m sorry” you quickly ramble out, knowing you were too close to moaning out Ellie’s name to keep this going on any longer. Before you were able to hear what the girl had to say on the other line, you hang up, turn your phone off and toss it onto the couch.

You moan softly, tilting your head to the side to give Ellie better access to your neck. “I can’t believe you fucking did that…” you moan out as you began shrugging your jacket off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. You felt too hot, too fucking needy, everything was just too much and you struggled to wrap your head around what exactly was even happening.

“Me? I didn’t do anything…you’re the one that cancelled on the poor girl” Ellie teased gently, which earns a swat to her arm from your end.

You sigh softly, tugging her hair back so that she’s pulled away from your neck. You waste no time in crashing your lips against hers, your tongue pushing into her mouth with need as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie groans into the kiss, her hands going down to give your ass a firm squeeze. “Eager are we?” She grunts against your lips.

You huff softly, ignoring her words as you begin pushing her backwards towards her room, your lips never leaving the sloppy kiss. It’s so fucking erotic, and messy, and needy, and there’s so much filling it that you can both clearly feel. You decide to ignore it.

“I decided to stay with you…you better make this worth it” you groan out softly, which only earns a smirk from Ellie as she stares down at you, her heart fluttering at the way you pushed her around, did with her as you pleased.

“I always do, baby” she chuckled softly, and all you want to do is wipe that smug fucking smirk off her beautiful face.

Once you’re in her bedroom, you press your palms against her chest, shoving her back to lay on her bed. She lets out a soft moan, clearly happy with the way that you’re handling her.

You tug your dress up a bit as you move to straddle her, her hands instantly moving to grip your thighs. She lets out a soft hiss, her lust filled eyes eating up the way your dress hugs your curves, pushes up your boobs. For a moment, you see a hint of something flash through her eyes as she watches you, taking in the dress that you wore for a date, wore for someone else.

You don’t ignore it this time, because it’s clearly jealously.

You don’t know whether or not you should say something, or kiss her, or do anything else to get your mind off of it, but you don’t have to. Because as soon as you’re settled down on her lap, you can feel a foreign bulge pressing into your clothed core, and it makes your eyes widen and Ellie smirks and rolls her hips up to grind it into you, and then you realize what the surprise that Ellie had was.

Ellie was finally going to fuck you tonight.

And not with her fingers, or with a sex toy, it would be with her strap. She was going to fuck you, something you’d already assumed wasn’t going to happen between the two of you.

She must have noticed the shocked look on your face, because she chuckles as she continues grinding her cock into you, making you whine softly as you press you hands on her hips to give yourself leverage as you roll your hips to meet her movements.

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours…went out and brought a brand new one just for you…” she explained, revealing what it was that she’d been out doing while you were getting ready for your date.

She was buying new toys to fuck you with, and picking up dinner for after.

You felt like you were dreaming.

All you can do is moan in response, eagerly undoing Ellie’s jeans, wanting nothing more than to feel her fill you up, fucking into you deliciously, giving you what you’d always wanted.

Ellie is quick to grab your wrists, pulling them away from her jeans. “Ahh, not so fast, princess….we’re gonna do this the right way” she hums out softly. You can’t help but pout, a soft huff leaving your lips as you open your mouth to complain, but Ellie is already sitting up, gently pushing you back to lay on her bed properly as she crawls over you.

She hums softly, staring down at your body for a moment, silently taking you in before she pushes your dress up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as her hands find its spot cupping your clothed pussy.

“Hmm….so wet already…I’m gonna have so much fun taking you, baby…” she groaned against your lips, swallowing up your moans as her slender fingers pressed against your clit, rubbing you slowly, forcing the cotton material of your pantries to go translucent as your arousal soaked them almost entirely.

And your head is spinning as she kisses you, because she’s being so slow, so gentle, treating your body with so much care. And it’s not unlike Ellie to do this, but you just assumed this would have gone differently. You expected her to be rough, fucking into you while telling you how no one could ever fuck her like she does…

But she’s not. She’s so gentle, and soft, and it’s making your heart do dances it’s never done before..

Ellie lets out a soft sigh as she tugs your panties to the side, feeling your velvety folds better now without the fabric constricting her. She rubs you slowly, building you up, getting your sopping little pussy all warmed up for her cock. Soon, her hands leave your core, and she pulls you up to tug your dress off before laying you back down, and tugging off your panties as well, leaving you entirely naked before her.

Ellie hisses softly under her breath as she eyes you, sitting back on her legs as she begins tugging off her own shirt, before she crawls off the bed to tug her jeans off, leaving her completely naked as well, eyes never leaving your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” she mumbles out softly before she crawls back onto you, pressing her naked chest against yours. The feeling makes you moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, because you’ve never felt Ellie like this. You’ve never had her body pressed up against yours this way, and it feels like the single most intimate thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Ellie’s hand goes down to her cock, gripping the base before she brings it to your core, running it along your sopping wet folds, against your clit before she slowly feeds you her length, earning a whiny moan from you.

Ellie quickly nods as she kisses you softly, one of her hands giving your waist a squeeze. “I know baby…I know it’s big…you can take me…I know you can” she praises you, and it makes you moan softly into her mouth as she rubs your clit, pushing further into your weeping cunt.

“Ellie…fuck…more…need more” you moan against her, the empty feeling still present as she waits for you to tell her it’s okay to keep going. She groans softly, pushing more of her length into you until she bottoms out completely, her thighs flushed against yours as she waits for you to adjust to her size.

You roll your hips slowly, already feeling yourself leaking around the length, and you give her a nod, staring into her green eyes as your hips buck up into her. “Need you, El…need more of you..” you moan out softly.

And Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you say that.

Her strong hand goes down, gripping your thigh as she slowly fucks into you, moaning as her clit bumps against the back of the strap with her movements.

Her eyes never leaves you, watches as your face contorts in pleasure, moaning loudly for her, arching your back when the tip of her cock rubs against your velvety walls, watching as you fall apart on her length.

Her thrusts are slow, and calculated and she’s staring down at all of you as she fucks into you. You suddenly feel her long fingers wrap around your cheeks, pulling you to look up at her because frankly, you’re having a hard time looking anywhere.

“Eyes on me, baby…need to see you right now…f-fuck…that’s my good fucking girl…taking me so well” she praises, and it makes you moan loudly with her. You grab her wrist, watching as she fucks into you faster, both of you getting closer and closer to what you’ve been needing for who knows how fucking long.

Suddenly, Ellie’s hand leaves your face and instead, grabs your hand, bringing it above your head as she interlocks your fingers. Her gaze is so intense, and the grip on your hand is so tight, you feel tears prickling at the ends of your eyes because whatever the hell is happening is too goddamn intense, it’s taking over you completely, and it’s making it all too much.

“Ellie…Ellie I…I…” you choke out between little moans and whines, your eyes growing glossy as you stare up at her, and Ellie is already nodding despite your lack of words, because she understands, she feels it too, and you don’t even have to say it.

“Come on baby…give it to me…fuck…cum with my angel…please” she’s practically begging, her own moans cutting off her words as she fucks you faster, the grip on your hand almost lethal as she stares down at you, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth.

And you feel it, how could you not? Your orgasm washes over you almost painfully, making you close your eyes shut as your back arches, squeezing Ellie’s hand as you cum hard on her cock. It’s too much, too intimate, too fucking intense, and you feel like you’ll explode just from the feeling of it.

Ellie has no other choice but to smash her lips against yours when she sees it, she can practically feel the way you grip her cock with your pussy and it’s the catalyst that sends her into her own sea of pleasure, euphoria swallowing her up and almost drowning her as she kisses you with everything she’s feeling, pouring it all out into you as her hips slowly fuck into you, riding out both yours and her orgasm.

The come down is hard, because she’s on top of you, and it’s quiet apart from the heavy breathing between you and hear, and her head is resting on her chest…

And all Ellie can think about, is how utterly fucked she is..

Because she’s in love with you

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[tropes-and-tales]

🥰 FINALLY

(Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader)

CW:  Angst; talk of addiction; talk of failed relationships. Smut (PiV, unprotected). 18+ only.

Word Count: 6734

AN:  This was originally requested by @elegantmusicdragon, and it's a sequel to this!

There’s no pretending they don’t know.

Will saw it firsthand.  Pope heard it, then got text confirmation from Will.  Ben slept through all of it, but when he wakes early in the morning, he looks across the loft and sees his brother in the wan pre-dawn light, staring at the ceiling with a haunted look on his face. 

A bit of prodding later, he finds out what he missed while he slept.

You and Fish, fucking.  You and Fish, the two members of the team who squabble and irritate each other the most, who sometimes outright fight and sometimes require someone else—Will, usually—to referee.

You and Fish.  You thought you were quiet, but by morning, everyone knows.

And worse, you and Fish know they know.  After you finished, quiet as you could be, both of your cell phones pinged with a string of incoming messages.  From Pope.

Pope:  👏👏👏👏

Pope:  excellent work you two

Pope:  🍆 💦💦💦💦

Pope:  seriously tho ur both gross

Pope:  but congrats happy for u

You read the messages and felt a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, but when you glanced over at Frankie, he only raked his hand through his hair and muttered, “fuck.”

-----

Breakfast is a surreal affair.  No one says anything at first, so the only sounds are forks and spoons clinking against dishes.  Chewing.  Benny, doing his usual gross early morning phlegm-clearing cough.

Your face burns in embarrassment.  Frankie keeps his eyes fixed on his scrambled eggs, which he only pushes around with the tines of his fork.  You can feel Pope’s eyes on you, Will’s eyes, and the cabin is full of anticipation.

Pope’s the one who breaks it.  He clears his throat, asks in a tone that’s phony-casual, “everyone sleep okay?”

“I didn’t,” Will replies.  “Thought I heard something last night.”

“Outside?”  Again, Pope’s voice is fake, an edge of chipper teasing in it. 

“Sounded like something got into the cabin.”

Pope pulls a thoughtful face.  “Y’know, I think I heard something too.  Kinda like a wounded animal?  Two wounded animals, grunting and moaning—”

Frankie huffs out a heavy sigh, and you slouch lower in your chair.  Benny grins around his mug of coffee and adds, “it is mating season, I think.”

Pope snaps his finger, a eureka sort of gesture.  “That must be it!  We must have come here during mating season and just didn’t realize it.  Wild.  Who knew?”

You chafe at the word mating, which makes it sound like you and Frankie are…well, mates, so you mutter, “it’s just hooking up,” which makes Frankie sigh again, because that launches Pope into a blistering lecture about responsibility and poor choices and Jesus Christ, you two, are you even using protection?  Are you at least being safe, because you sure as shit aren’t being smart?

You mumble a defensive comment that it isn’t his business (though you’re on birth control, you sure as hell aren’t admitting it to the guys—Frankie knows, and that’s all that matters), and then you find the strength to stand up, announce that you’re going for a walk down to the lake, and if they care to speculate further on your reproductive health, they can do so without your presence.

*****

Frankie can’t remember the last time he has been so mortified.

No, scratch that.  He can remember.  It was when he was in the throes of his addiction, and you ambushed him with an intervention.  Now, a full year after that, he sees the love and care that went into it, but at the time, he felt a furious blend of anger and frustration and mortification.

This is like that, albeit less strong…but incredibly fresh.

After you march off—abandoning him, naturally—he lets the guys get their shots in.  He clenches his jaw and fixes his gaze somewhere over Pope’s head, at a pattern of knots in the wood paneling on the wall.  He tries to let their ribbing wash over him, but he takes each comment personally.

And he’s embarrassed.  It would be one thing to be caught with a random woman from, say, a bar or a party.  You, though?  It feels like a weakness, a failure of character, to be caught fucking someone he barely gets along with.  Pathetic, like he can’t do better.  Like he couldn’t find a woman who simpers for him, who is eager to impress him, who is impressed by him.  Like he’s had to settle for someone who rolls her eyes at him, who snarks at him, who doesn't think that highly of him. 

Someone who saw him at his weakest, when he was addicted to coke.  Someone who rolled her eyes and marched in to save the day.

Weak.  Pathetic.

Frankie stews.  The guys wear themselves out, split up.  Benny goes to find you on your march down to the lake.  He says he’ll calm you down, soothe your chagrined soul and smooth you out.  Pope disappears into his room to take a work call, since he has a new contract coming up in a few days.

It leaves Frankie and Will.  Frankie stands up from the table and makes his way out to the front porch, and Will follows.  Frankie heaves himself onto the porch swing, and he sets a rhythm of fast, jerky swinging.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  He swings in time to his pounding heart, the headache forming at the base of his skull.

Will settles on the step and stretches his leg out.  He turns his face to the rising sun, and he’s silent for a long moment.

“You okay?” he finally asks.  There’s no teasing in his voice.  He sounds genuine.

“Great.”  Frankie spits it out, sarcastic.

Will jerks his chin in the direction of the cabin door.  “You know we’re just teasing.”

“Yeah.”

Will hesitates before he asks, “is it really just hooking up?”

Frankie sighs.  “Obviously.”

Another beat of hesitation.  “You don’t have feelings for her?”

That pulls a bitter laugh from Frankie.  “Obviously not.”

“Thing is, it’s not so obvious.”  Will turns his head and fixes Frankie with an appraising look that Frankie doesn’t like.  He meets his eye for a beat, then slides his own gaze away, looks past Will to the clearing where the fire pit is.  That first evening here seems a million years ago, though it was only a couple of days. 

“It’s just that you two make a weird sort of sense,” Will continues.  “You’re so similar—”

“We’re nothing alike.”  Frankie cuts him off tersely.  “We don’t have a damned thing in common other than a shared history.”

“You’re both stubborn.  You’re both strong-willed people, and you both obviously care about each other—”

“No.  Nope.”  He cuts him off again, and all of those bad feelings—mortification being the strongest—bubble up in him.

“I don’t care about her.  Are you kidding?  It was just hooking up.  She was available, and it was convenient, and that’s it.” 

There’s venom behind his words, a force fed by his deep embarrassment to have been caught with you.  It makes his voice carry just enough that you and Ben both hear it as you walk back from the lake.  Will sees you first, makes a noise in the back of his throat as he catches your expression—the hurt there, the pain that Frankie’s words cause—and then Frankie sees you too.

“Hey,” he starts to say, but you wave him off, tell him it’s fine, you’re fine…and in all the years that Frankie has known you, this is the first time you lie to him.

-----

The weekend ends on a sour note.

There’s no fight between you and Frankie, and that hurts the most.  For as much as you bicker, you go silent now.  When you talk to him, you’re flat.  Polite.  Distant.

Pope needs to head back early to get back to Colombia, and you catch a ride with him.

“Got things I need to do,” you say, and everyone knows it’s a lie, but no one knows how to call you out on it.  You’re hurt, Frankie has hurt you and the guys fed into the bad feelings that led to that hurt, and everyone parts in a low mood.

A hundred times Frankie’s finger hovers over your name on his phone.  A hundred times he starts to craft a message in his head, only to toss the phone aside.

A hundred times he struggles to fall asleep because he cannot get your face out of his head.  That look of surprise and hurt, and all his fault because he was an asshole who was embarrassed to be caught hooking up with you.

No, not was an asshole.  Is an asshole.  Because a hundred times he thinks he’ll summon the courage to reach out, but a hundred times, he fails.

-----

He doesn’t see you for six months.  He don’t talk to you directly, and the best he gets is your short, clipped responses in the gang’s group chat.  Even there, you tend to go silent.

He dare not ask one of the guys how you’re doing.  He sees the Miller brothers the most, talks to Pope only sometimes, and maybe there’s a separate group chat because it seems as though the three of them have reached some agreement to never mention you around Frankie.

Six months.  Half a year after the cabin by the lake.  How does Frankie spend his time?  Lonely, mostly.  He goes to work, then goes home.  He goes to meetings once a week, but he rarely has cravings and has less pressure to use.  He started using before because he just had too much going on—work and married life, Pope’s scheming to make them all millionaires, Tom’s death.  Now Frankie has very little.  Just a job.  Just a small apartment where he sits alone on his secondhand couch and eats microwaved leftovers while the TV plays at a low volume.

A hundred times he thinks to call you.  A hundred times he thinks to drive to where you live—one town over, but only a fifteen minute drive.  He could apologize; he could try to understand why you looked so hurt.  Of course he cares for you, deep down, but it isn’t love…or was it?

A hundred times that question floats to the front of his mind, and a hundred times he shoves it down, ignores it, waits for it to recede from his thoughts.

-----

Six months after the cabin by the lake, Frankie sees you again.  Pope is in town for his birthday.  His latest contract has ended, the next one hasn’t begun, and he has a stretch of time to visit and gorge himself on all the things he can’t get overseas.

His birthday is held at Will and Benny’s place.  When Frankie rolls up a solid half hour late, though, Will is outside waiting for him.

“How’s it going?” he asks, and the two exchange their usual handshake into a half-hug.

“Good.  You?”

“Good.”  Will jams his hands in his pockets and fixes Frankie with a curious look.  “She’s in there, you know.”

It says a lot that the she in this case is you and not his ex-wife, who arguably would put the guys more on alert.  How have you managed to reach such a dubious place of honor?

Frankie tries to sound casual.  “Yeah, I figured.”  A beat, and he adds, “don’t worry.  I don’t plan on fighting with her.  It’s Pope’s night.”

Will furrows his brow at that, shakes his head faintly.  “Yeah, I know.  But Frankie, she’s in there with someone else.  Pope’s buddy, remember?”

-----

Fucking Paolo.

Fucking recently-divorced, recently-cheated on, sad piece of shit Paolo.  Pope’s buddy that he tried—and apparently succeeded at—setting you up with at the cabin.

Thing is, the guy isn’t a sad piece of shit.  Or a troll, as Frankie had teased you at the cabin.  The man is handsome; an easy smile and warm eyes.  Hair that looks great but like he didn’t try to make it look great.  Clothing well-fitted and well-made, but not obnoxiously designer.  Good handshake, when Frankie is introduced.  A genuine ‘nice to meet you’ in accented English.

Frankie’s jealousy, as it turns out, is wide and deep and never-ending.

Because for fuck’s sake, you look happy.  Relaxed.  Paolo puts his hand on your lower back and leads you to get fresh drinks.  He slings an arm around your waist as you stand and chat with Pope.  He turns and whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle, and how is Frankie just now learning that you fucking giggle, and that it sounds cute on you, a musical little laugh that makes his stomach turn because he’s never drawn such a sound from you?

And Paolo must smooth out your rough edges because you gift Frankie a little smile and ask how he’s been, and there’s no venom behind the question.  No lingering bad will. 

You’ve moved on, it seems, and it hits Frankie harder than he thought it would.  He ends up leaving after only a few hours, lies and says he’s coming down with something, but he takes one backwards glance at you before he goes. 

You aren’t looking at him at all.  You’re looking—gazing—at fucking Paolo’s handsome fucking face, and Frankie’s first thought is she never looked at me like that.

His second thought is maybe I never gave her a reason to look at me like that.

-----

Frankie sees you once a few months after Pope’s birthday, by accident at the grocery store.  You’re alone and frowning slightly in the produce section, looking at the selection of apples on display.  Paolo is nowhere in sight, but that doesn’t mean anything.

You don’t see Frankie.  He stands by the cut flowers and studies you from under the brim of his hat, and he half-hopes you turn and see him.  He half-hopes you don’t.  He stands by a bucket of cheerful daisies and wonders if Paolo brings you flowers.

He half-hopes the man does, because you deserve flowers.  He half-hopes he doesn’t, because Frankie is jealous and hates the thought that Paolo has only known you for a fraction of time—far less than Frankie has known you—and is still probably that much better for you than Frankie would have been.

Frankie doesn’t know what to do with himself.  His thumb still hovers over your contact information in the still, quiet hours of the night. 

He thinks of the intervention you staged for him.  He had stormed out, furious to be so embarrassed and exposed, and you had followed.

He remembers you stopping him, your hands turning him to face you.  Your hands gripping either side of his face as you stared deep into his eyes and pleaded with him to get his shit together.

It’s as good of advice now as it was then.

-----

A year after the cabin by the lake, and everyone returns to the cabin by the lake. 

Frankie hesitates when Will calls for his confirmation.  Will must guess why, because Will not-so-casually mentions that it’s just the core folks, you and Frankie and Pope and the Millers.  No plus-ones.

“Just us,” Will reminds him.  “To remember Tom.”

So fucking Paolo won’t be there with his nice smile and nice hair and his hand resting lightly on your back, and Frankie agrees to come.

When he arrives, it is just like the year before.  Pope pulls rank and calls dibs on the lone single bedroom.  The Miller brothers scamper up to the loft like children, poking at each other and laughing the whole way.

Which leaves you and Frankie exactly where you were a year ago.  Awkwardly sharing the living room with the lumpy couch and a mattress on the floor.  Frankie glances at you, opens his mouth to say something, but Pope—who tosses his bag into the bedroom, then strides back out—comes up to you and pulls you into a hug that kind of looks like a headlock.

“Sorry to hear about it,” he says, and Frankie is bewildered for a beat before Pope adds, “for the record, I told him he was being fucking stupid.”

His mind guesses that this is about Paolo, but his mouth, which often operates independently of his mind, blurts out, “did you break up?”

You peer out at him from where Pope has you tucked against him, and grumble, “how’d you say it last year?  I’d only disappoint him.”

Frankie sucks in a breath, remembers the shot he took at you.  He shakes his head, ashamed at the memory, but doesn’t say anything.

“No.  No, no, no.”  Pope adjusts his hold, puts you in an actual headlock.  He glances over at Frankie and clarifies, “he got back together with his ex-wife.”

“She was better than me,” you chime in, and it sounds muffled.

“Nope again.  She’s a cheater, and she’ll cheat again, and you’ll be off with someone far better.”  Pope adjusts his hold as you struggle against him, and he adds, “now say something nice about yourself.  No feeling sorry, so say something nice.”

“I’m a good cook.”  It’s muffled again; your face is pressed against Pope’s side where he holds you fast.

“No good.  I mean, you’re a good cook, yes, but you learned that.  It’s not essential to who you are.”

“Pope, c’mon,” you whine.  “Lemme go.”

“Not until you say it.”

Frankie smiles at the exchange, but he puzzles over it too.  He wonders at the relationship you have with Pope, separate from him and the other guys.  He supposes he’s never considered it—he always thought you and he had a separate thing, but never considered how you got on with Pope or Will or Ben independent of him, separate from the broader group. 

But Paolo was Pope’s friend too, and Frankie wonders how much Pope hyped you up to Paolo and vice versa.  And how much Pope has been there for you now that it’s ended, perhaps feeling guilty to have it go sideways on you.

Hence this little game that seems well-established:  Pope holding you in a headlock, forcing you to speak well of yourself.

“I’m…loyal,” you finally concede.

Pope shoots Frankie a grin and replies, “yes, you are.  You’re good as gold.”

But he doesn’t release you quick enough, and you get enough of an arm free to lightly sucker punch him low in the stomach, and Frankie smiles wider because that’s the you he recognizes best—the one who puts up with shit to a certain level, then comes out swinging.

-----

The first night this time is much the same as the last time.  There’s a bonfire, a cooler of beers, laughter.  Loons call across the water to each other, and sparks from the fire drift on the updraft to merge with the stars glimmering above them.

Frankie feels restless.  He fiddles with his bottle of beer, rolls it between his palms, peels the label.  He hasn’t seen you in so long, hasn’t talked to you for even longer, and now you’re sitting across the fire ring from him.  Your face is gilded orange and gold in the flames, and while you laugh with them, you seem a touch sad.  Quieter than usual.

When everyone finally turns in, he offers you the mattress on the floor.  For the first time since you’ve arrived, you pause and look at him.  Actually look at him:  meet his eyes, study his face. 

“The couch is lumpy,” you remind him.  “Your back.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Nah, I’m okay.”  You turn away and shake out the folded blanket, and Frankie despairs at how polite and distant you are now.  His own fault, but he loathes it.  He wishes you’d squabble with him again, pick a fight, tease him until he huffs in frustration.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks.  He watches you lie down.  You punch at the pillow, turn on your side, then settle and sigh.

“I’d rather not, Fish.”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry—”

You arch an eyebrow at him.  “For Paolo?  You kinda said it would go down the exact way it went down.”

He shakes his head.  “No, but I should have never said that—”

“It’s fine.”

“I meant, I wanted to say I’m sorry for before.”

“Oh.”

“Here, last year.”  He swallows and studies your expression, which gives nothing away.  “I shouldn’t have said what I did.  It was cruel, and—”

“I get it.  I remember.  It’s fine, Fish.  Everything’s fine.”

He wants to add more, but you roll over to face the back of the couch, your back to him.  It occurs a moment later that you’re still lying to him, because you’ve just said everything was fine at least four times in the past five minutes, and he gets the distinct impression that nothing is fine.

-----

The next day, you hike again.  It’s a different route this time, and the summit is different but the view is the same, just a different angle:  placid lake below, brilliant blue sky above, and a picnic lunch spread out on the rock. 

Frankie has done a lot of work on himself.  In the past months, he’s learned to stop thinking of himself as a fixed point.  Life is not a ladder, as he always imagined.  He can change and adapt and not think himself weak for backing up and taking a different route when the first route proves to be a dead end.

Case in point:  you and your occasional balking as you hike down a mountain.  There’s a stretch that is dicey, loose graveled and steep, and sure enough, you falter, then freeze.

Frankie from last year got impatient with you, and left you behind for Benny to rescue.

Frankie from this year recognizes that your fear isn’t a personal failing.  It’s a quirk.  It makes you you, and how he reacts now is what makes him him.  The new and improved Frankie.  Less of an asshole.  Back up, try a new way. 

“Take your time,” he tells you now.  “There’s no rush.”

You don’t seem to hear him.  You’re so used to him being frustrated that you say, plaintive, “just go around, Fish.”

A breath.  New and improved Frankie.  “No, I’ll wait for you.  I’m here.”

You glance at him, and he sees the whites of your eyes:  the fear there.  He regrets that he wasn’t patient with you before.  Another breath, like his therapist taught him.  He feels the regret, then lets it go.  He reminds himself that he can be better now.

Frankie reaches out a hand to you.  “C’mon,” he says.  “I’ve got you.”

Of course you stare at him a long moment like he’s grown two heads.  Like he’s been replaced by some alien double who is kind instead of snappish.

You end up taking his hand, though, and he grips you firmly, takes you step by step out of the perilous stretch of the trail.

-----

Dinner is Pope on steaks, you on pasta and vegetables again.  Benny, who took an internet wine course to impress a girl, pops the corks on a few bottles of middle shelf vintage.  He explains about how it has to breathe, how it has to release the bouquet until Pope steps away from the steaks to smack him upside his head.

New and improved Frankie.  When the dinner conversation touches on your breakup, he murmurs his consolations.  When Pope gives the entire history of Paolo and his volatile ex-wife, he clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disgust.

New and improved Frankie.  He tells you your contributions to the meal are delicious, and he misses the sly look that Will gives to Pope because Frankie is too focused on you.  Your face twists in confusion at his praise, and you reply a beat later with a lilt of questioning, “thank you?”

-----

New and improved Frankie.  He manages to beat you to the living room before bed, and he snags the couch while you’re brushing your teeth.  You stop in your tracks when you see him, and you narrow your eyes.

“Take the mattress tonight,” he says.  He ignores the spring in the couch digging into the left side of his ass.  “Seriously.”

The guys are all already tucked into their own beds, so when you put your hands on your hips and demand to know what the hell is wrong with him, you keep your voice low.

“Nothing wrong with me.”

You don’t buy it, but your scowl softens.  “Frankie, are you using again?”

He laughs.  Of course you’d associate his attempts at niceness with drugs. 

“Not at all.  I’m at about eighteen months clean.”

That replaces your scowl with a smile.  A genuine one.  “Oh, Fish.  Congratulations.”

“It’s thanks to you.”

“Nah.  You’re the one who did the hard work.”

“You’re the one who saw I had a problem.”

“The guys noticed it too.”

“Yeah, but.”  He takes a breath.  “You’re the one who took action.  You probably saved my life.”

You wave him off, and you kneel down on the mattress, then sit cross-legged and look at him.  “You give me too much credit, Fish.”

That makes him shake his head.  “No, I never gave you enough credit.  I was married, remember.  Sophie never noticed, and if she did, she didn’t set up an intervention.  It was all you.”

Something about being so open makes you uncomfortable.  You fold your hands in your lap and look down at them.  “Where is all this coming from?”  Your voice is quiet, and Frankie has to strain to hear you.

“What do you mean?”

A sigh.  “I mean, I don’t want you to be nice because I got dumped.  I hate pity.”

He sits up a bit, props himself on his elbow and watches you.  “It’s not pity.”

“Then why are you being so nice?  We haven’t argued once and it’s been over a day.”  You glance over at him, your hands twisting in your lap restlessly.

He sits up completely and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.  “I hated the way I left things with you before.”  A pause.  “Remember what you told me at my intervention?  You said I had to get my shit together.  I thought, ‘okay, I’m clean now, I have some clean months behind me.  So why am I still so fucking miserable to be with?’”

“Fish, you aren’t miserable to be—”

“I am.”  He cuts you off.  “And I don’t want to be.  I don’t want to be the man who makes you feel like shit because I’m embarrassed we got caught hooking up.  You’re not something to be ashamed of, and I acted like a complete asshole.”

The corner of your mouth twitches in a sardonic smile.  “The guys were being obnoxious.”

“And I should have been obnoxious back.  I could have talked you up.  Talked us up.  Instead of being a dick, I could have said, ‘yeah, we’re hooking up, and it’s amazing, so be jealous about it because you’re all single with no prospects.’”

“We were technically single too.”

He nods, serious.  “Yeah, we were, but maybe we shouldn’t have been.”

That makes you laugh; an honest-to-god belly laugh that has you wrapping your arms around your stomach.  Frankie winces, glances up at the loft where the Miller brothers are theoretically sleeping, then he pushes the worry aside.  Who gives a shit if they hear you laughing with him?

When he doesn’t laugh too, your laughter dies down.  “Wait, you’re not joking?”

“No.”

A long pause with the two of you watching each other.  “…and you’re sure you’re not using?”

“I’m sure.  I had a piss test last week for work.”

“…okay.”

He sighs and holds his hands out to you, palms up.  Entreating.  “I’ve been seeing a therapist.  Yes, it feels like bullshit, but it’s something, you know?  Having a third party to bounce my bad memories against.  My bad feelings.  He’s helped me figure out some stuff.”

You blink at him in sincere surprise.  “I’m proud of you, Fish.”

That makes a warm flush course through him, you being proud of him.  “It’s a cliché, but there’s shit from childhood that really can fuck a person up as an adult, you know?”

“Oh, I know it.  Eldest daughter, right here.  Child of functional alcoholics.”

“I guess I always had this set idea in my head of how life was gonna be, and when it was not that, when it turned out to be something that I constantly had to work out, I didn’t know how to handle that,” he admits.

“I get that too.”  You nod along, and you stop fiddling with your hands.

Frankie takes a deep breath and plunges ahead.  He has to get it out, and he has your attention.

“And, you know, I had set ideas about relationships.  Women.  Marriage.”

The sardonic smile returns.  “Here we go.”

“I was trying to recreate a perfect version of my parents’ marriage,” he admits.  It took some deep work to realize it.  Talking in therapy, dredging up memories he thought he had buried nice and deep.  “I thought if I could do it like them, but better, I would have won.”

“Won what, exactly?” you ask softly.

“Life?  I don’t even know.  It sounds stupid to say it out loud, but I thought it would mean that I had succeeded as an adult.  As a man.  Like people would look at me and be impressed.”

He glances at you, and you nod encouragingly.  He takes another deep breath, and he asks you to just listen to the next part, to not interrupt.  To let him get it all out before you stop listening.

“Okay.”  Another nod, and you settle your hands in your lap again and hold them there.

“So I tried to recreate my parents’ marriage, right?  I found a woman a lot like my mom.  Traditional, stay at home.  Sophie wanted to be taken care of, you know.  She didn’t want to work.  She wanted someone to make the decisions for her on all the big adult stuff.  She wanted to keep house and have kids and be a soccer mom.�� Make homemade Halloween costumes and throw elaborate birthday parties for our four or five children, and there was nothing wrong with that.  I thought she’d be better than my mom, an actual mom, you know?  Not someone to get bitter about her missed opportunities and tell her kids how she sacrificed everything for them.  Because that’s what my childhood was like.  My mom always couched everything in what she gave up, like me or my brothers asked to be born.”

He pauses, catches his breath.  You’re watching him, expectant, so he continues.

“And meanwhile, I thought I’d be the best husband.  The best dad.  I had a military career, and they trained me to fly helicopters.  I was so much further ahead than my own dad, who drove a tow truck.  He worked hard all day, then came home to a bitter wife.  The best thing in his life was drinking cheap beer in the garage and hiding from her, and here I was, married to Sophie with a good military job and benefits, and I should have been so happy to be winning.”

“But you weren’t,” you say gently.  It isn’t a question.

He shakes his head.  “No, I wasn’t.  And I didn’t know why.  I started to resent Soph for never making a decision.  Mortgage went up because property taxes went up?  Not her problem.  Roof needed replaced?  I had to figure it out.  Car registration expired while I was overseas, and she got a ticket?  Somehow I had to solve it from the middle of goddamned Afghanistan.  We didn’t even have kids yet, and I was feeling all this pressure to be an adult for both of us.  When I got back home on leave, she tells me that she’s stopped her birth control, and I just…cracked.”

“I get it, Fish.  I mean, not being married, but I get how it feels to expect one thing in your life and have the opposite happen.”

He holds up a palm to remind you to let him get it all out, and you whisper “sorry.  Go ‘head.”

“And then there was you.  The complete opposite of Soph, you know?  You were…are this super independent woman, and whenever we were stuck overseas and Soph was struggling with running a house stateside, you were just there, chirping about what she needed to do.  Like it was nothing.  And I got irritated with you because you are just so damned pulled together and even-keeled and…and easy.  It’s so easy with you, and I hated it because I knew I made the wrong choice after all.  I tried so hard to avoid my parents’ marriage’s pitfalls that I just fell into the same pattern even harder, and you were the one who showed me that.”

He watches to see how his words land.  When you blink at him, he sees a film of tears there, so he plunges forward to get the rest out.

“I didn’t even realize that I loved you.  That’s how fucked in the head I was.  I picked fights with you and told the guys how irritating I thought you were, and you stuck to me anyway.  I could never shake you off.  We mustered out and you saw me drowning in my addiction, and I still told myself that I didn’t like you, didn’t care about you.  I got divorced, and we started hooking up, and I swear to god, sweetheart, hand up to god:  the first time we slept together, it felt like I was finally home, and I still couldn’t admit it to myself.  I kept telling you each time that it was the last time but I kept coming back for more because you feel like home and I loved you, but I fucked it all up because I didn’t understand who I was or what I wanted.”

He stops there, spent.  He feels like he’s been emptied out, and he stares down at his own clenched hands and waits for you to say something.  Anything.

There’s a long, long moment of silence.  He hears the loons on the lake and the wind rustling the trees outside, but you don’t say anything for so long.

Then you breathe out his name, an “oh, Frankie,” and when he looks up, he sees the tears streaming down your face.

“I mean it,” he adds softly.  “I’m sorry, but I mean it.  I love you.  I’ve probably always loved you.  Thinking back, I can’t remember a time I didn’t.  I just didn’t realize it.”

You’re crying openly now, but you’re trying to be quiet.  Frankie doesn’t even think of the guys nearby; he stands up and makes his way to where you sit on the mattress, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters against the side of your head, and he has no idea what you’re thinking—if you’re horrified or embarrassed or something else by his admission.  It’s out now, though.  He can’t take it back, and he doesn’t think he would want to take it back anyway.

It takes another long moment of him holding you awkwardly, you trying not to cry too loudly.  But then you give a weak laugh, and whisper hoarsely, “I really thought you were on drugs again.”

“Therapy is sometimes harder than sobriety.”

You pull away a little and stare at him with eyes brilliant with tears.  “Would you have said anything if I were still with Paolo?”

“Maybe.  I might have changed the messaging.  I wouldn’t have wanted to get in the middle of anything.”

You chuck him weakly on his bicep.  “I’ve missed you, you asshole.  And I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

He grins down at you.  “If you feel too out of sorts, we could argue.”

“Yeah?”

“You pointed out that we haven’t argued once yet.”

“Feels weird.”

“It does. Want a big fight or just a little one?”

“Might as well go big.  It’s been so long.”

Frankie chuckles.  He releases you.  He holds his hands up and makes a ‘gimme’ gesture with them.  A ‘give me your best shot’ gesture. 

“C’mon then.  Let’s hear it,” he says.

You smile and swipe at your wet eyes.  “Okay.  You’re a real fucking piece of work, dropping all this heavy shit on me out of nowhere.”

“Maybe you’re a real fucking piece of work to have never guessed.”

A laugh of surprise erupts out of you.  “How in the hell would I ever have guessed that?”

“You notice everything else.  You noticed I was using before.”

“So you dropping a ton of weight and looking like shit from coke is the same as being in love?”

“With you?” he scoffs.  “Absolutely.  Can’t sleep, no appetite, can’t think straight ‘cos of you—”

“Fuck you, Fish,” you say, and then you’re on him, your mouth sliding over his, and it feels just as he said:  you feel just like home.  It stretches out, long and eager, the two of you obviously missing each other and making up for lost time.  Too much lost time.

He breaks the kiss long enough to get you turned and under him, to get your thin cotton shorts down around your ankles, to get his own pajama pants down enough to free his hardening cock.  He bullies himself between your thighs but you spread yourself wide eagerly.  You grasp the back of his neck with one hand, but you reach down with your other hand, take him in hand, and stroke him to his full length.  He touches you between your legs, feels you growing wet and slick for him, and it’s just like home when he kisses you, and it’s just like home when he notches himself against your entrance and then slides into you.

What’s new, though, is how he drops his head so his mouth is near your ear, and he whispers, “god, I love you so fucking much.”

It’s new, too, how you clench down at those words, then turn his head to make him look at you, so he can see your eyes when you whisper back, “I love you too, Frankie.  Always.”

*****

In the past year, Pope has obtained a prescription for medication to help him sleep, so he misses the texts flying in the shadow group chat that is just him and Miller brothers. He only reads them when he wakes up to birdsong outside his window.

Will:  u hearing this?

Will:  Pope.  POPE.

Benny:  Wkae up, asshole.

Will:  u will never guess what’s happening

Benny:  🍆🍑💦

Will:  Fish told her he loved her.

Benny:  bro, wake the fuck up.  This is wild.

Will:  HE SAID HE LOVES HER

Benny:  disgusting but wild

Will:  I think she said it back

It’s five in the morning when Pope wakes up and reads the texts.  He grins, and he wonders if Benny realizes that the peach emoji usually is a stand-in for an ass, which means Benny was implying that you and Fish had anal sex while they all slept nearby, which seems unlikely. 

Pope climbs out of bed quietly to use the bathroom, and it takes him through the living room where you and Frankie are asleep.  Together, he notes.  You’re both fully clothed—thank Christ for small miracles—but you’re together on the mattress on the floor.  Frankie’s arm is over your waist, and your hand lightly circles his wrist.

Fucking gross. 

But also fucking adorable.

Pope uses the bathroom, then tiptoes back to his bed.  He re-reads the texts, then types out his reply to Will and Benny.

Pope:  🥰

Pope:  FINALLY.

[madelynraemunson]

i need to know if we ever get jealous of eddie’s said short lived relationships. do we ever try to sabotage them? or are we the type to try and get along with them and thats when they’re like “oh no you two need to be together?”

(i know the answer in my heart but i want to hear what you think lol)

ex husband!eddie x reader

whaaat? sabotage eddie's relationships? 😵 that's diabolical. why on earth would we do that?

that one time we showed up to his house wearing a sundress after months of wearing sweats was TOTALLY unplanned! we had a date, after all.

and that one time we were dancing with eddie at the family bbq, rocking out to all our favorite songs like careless teenagers right in front of girlfriend #3 was all a ploy by our kiddos! right, kids? right? we do everything for the kids. they love seeing their parents happy and getting along. right, kids?

and are you really still on about the day of eli's talent show?? 🤦🏻‍♀️ we only asked girlfriend #9 to take a family photo of us because she was the only one that was around. that's all 😇 and she shouldn't be mad at us! eli LOVES taking pics with mommy and daddy. who is she to get in the way of a family, especially when kids are involved 🤨😤 (also, we didn't MAKE eddie place his hand where he did in the pictures. he literally did it by himself, on his own terms.)💋

...okay, bunnie you got me! we know damn well what we're doing 😅 but quite frankly, so does eddie.

you've got a date with david tonight. in fact, eddie knows was nice enough to house sit for you and help the kids with homework. an innocent, sweet little gesture. right?

you and david are watching a movie on his couch and things are getting steamy really fast. david is about to kiss you when...

RING! RING!

you pull away immediately. checking your phone to see who it is, you realize,

"it's my ex husband, that fucker. the house better be burning down." you go to answer it. "yes?"

“hey, sweetheart, this is eddie...the banished." he greets you. “i can't seem to find the measuring tape and was wondering if you knew where it was."

you're unsure as to why he would even need measuring tape. regardless, you reply,

"it's in with drawer of miscellaneous stuff. the one by the kitchen sink.”

"ahh, that's right. found it. thanks, babe."

but that's not the only useless call of the night. as your date with david continues, the calls keep coming through in seemingly calculated intervals. at the worst possible times. with the most irrelevant fucking questions.

“i can't find the baking soda." “where do you keep the batteries? the c batteries not the double As." "hey, just a heads up, you might wanna call somebody for this pipe." "what's the wifi password again?"

"EMUNSON1986!" you hiss. "the year you graduated high school."

"aww, really?" eddie coos. "that's endearing. thanks baby."

eventually after an hour, the calls stop. you and david were able to finish the movie, and get back to that steamy interaction before you were spammed mercilessly. david is now fiddling with your straps as you two are kissing, his available hand grazing your lower back, breath hitching when —

RING! RING!

"jesus h CHRIST!" you howl. "it's midnight for god's sake. this better be important. HELLO?”

"sorry," eddie mumbles on the other line. "remind me, i'm looking at your snake plant and was wondering how often these guys need watering? they look a little parched."

"once a day and i already did it," you say through gritted teeth.

"it's a new day, should they be watered again?"

"don't worry about it, eds."

"i always worry, sweetheart.”

david happens to hear this. giving you a side eye now, your date watches as you stay on the line with eddie for a couple of minutes. finally, you get eddie to agree to stop calling, which fills you with relief when you hang up the phone. your eyes then travel back to david, whom you begin to bat your flirty lashes at.

"now." you say. "where were we?"

"you should probably go home," david huffs. "looks like the fort still needs holding down."

you're seeing absolute red now. you are seething. that motherfucker.

your drive home is an angry, and sexually frustrated one. you can't believe eddie would sabotage your date like this, your only fun night out this week. he's in for it now.

"date ended early sweetheart?" eddie pouts at you the moment you walk into your house.

"bedroom," you order. "now."

tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe! as always thank you for reading 💋

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @meetmeatyourworst @b-irock @spencerssatchel

divider by: @cafekitsune

[ivymarquis]

Not me vividly hallucinating about a certain scot eating me out until I cry

What you wish for

Pairing| John “Soap The Munch (tm)” MacTavish x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| ~500 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Cunnilingus, squirting, mentions of safe word, Johnny is A Munch(tm), the author is an American still trying to dial in a Scottish accent

Date a munch, they said.

It would be fun, they said.

And it is, for the most part- you can admit that with no hardship.

It’s just that occasionally (like now), it becomes obvious that Johnny is eating you out for his pleasure and your own is just a happy by-product.

“Shit, ah! Johnny! I’m gonna- hgn- Johnny I’m gonna cum,” you pant in warning as the Scot buried between your thighs goes to town on you like a man starved.

Every time this man drops to his knees in front of you, it is a guarantee you’re going to see stars.

This time he’s got you pinned on your back on the bed. You seem to be wiggling too much for his taste as he’s banded one forearm across your waist and the other hand grips one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.

No matter how much you cry and moan and buck and cant your hips, he just leans his weight on you to keep you still.

He alternates between broad swipes with the flat of his tongue or more pointedly circling your clit or lapping at the inside of you.

While he’s yet to disappoint, he really seems into it (re: you) today. Like teetering on has-something-to-prove into it.

With that sort of dedication and attention, it’s no wonder he’s got you squirting and squealing in record time as he slips two fingers inside and abuses that spot that has you seeing stars.

Johnny works you through your high, lapping up every drop of it like it’s his last meal. Your legs twitch weakly in his hold as he continues on.

You think that maybe he’s working himself down, that he’ll leave you be in a minute.

He doesn’t.

Less attention is paid directly to your clit, but he’s still honed in between your legs even as you squirm. “Johnny,” his voice is a whine in your throat. “Johnny I came- I already came,” like there was any possibility that he is unaware of that- given how you squirted all over his face.

He pulls off momentarily, eying you with a skeptical look. “The fuck’s that got to do with me, bonnie? Cum or don’t, I'm finished when I'm finished.”

Your brain needs a system reboot at that- you stare at the ceiling dumbly as he gets back to business.

He’s trying to kill you- there’s no other explanation for it.

(Distantly you remember how your ex never went down you- still expected head on a routine basis, of course!- and you swore that the next guy you dated would have to be okay with reciprocation. You certainly got your wish in spades, hadn’t you? Almost like the universe was apologizing in the most mind-melting way possible)

It’s all you can do to lay there and breathe. If it actually gets to be too much- well, that’s what safewords are for. But Jesus fucking Christ the man doesn’t do anything in halves.

It’s only after he’s wrenched your second orgasm from you that he lets up, crawling up the bed to collapse to the side of you.

“Soon as my legs quit twitching, I’m returning the favor,” it takes you a couple tries to stammer out the words. Johnny looks every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

“Oh I’m no done with that sweet cunt o’ yours- ye just looked like ye were gonna pass oot. We’ll give ye a break an then back tae it, hm?”

[hawkinsbnbg]

cherry on top

Prompt: top | Word count: 510 | Rated: E | Tags: dry humping (just a bit), grinding (on the dance floor), mutual pining, modern setting | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

Eddie thought he was going to die.

Because seriously, Steve and crop tops? A killer combo.

And here, in a Metallica crop top and snug jeans, Steve was bopping on the dance floor, so carefree and sexy that it drove Eddie up the wall.

Nope, he wasn't annoyed when some guys sidled up to grind against Steve like animals.

Just… Jesus H. Christ.

When the fuck did Steve get a belly piercing?

With a thumbs up from Gareth, Eddie inhaled deeply and sauntered to the dance floor as confidently as possible.

“Hey,” Steve smiled over his shoulder.

Pretty.

Eddie wanted to lick him. Or kiss him.

“Hey yourself,” Eddie smiled back and put his hands on the waistband of Steve's jeans. “May I dance with you?”

It sounded utterly ridiculous. Like they were in prom and not in the middle of a gay bar with music blasting their ears off.

Despite that, Steve still pressed his back to Eddie's chest and guided Eddie's hands up to grab his naked waist.

“Thought you'd never ask.”

Eddie couldn't say anything. Because his brain had short-circuited by the soft and sweaty skin beneath his fingertips.

His hands couldn't help but wander, scratching lightly at the happy trail and earning a soft chuckle from Steve.

“Where did this come from?” Eddie toyed with the rhinestone cherry dangling just below Steve's navel.

“Robin took me to Chicago on my birthday and we got this together,” Steve answered easily while swaying to the music, grinding his ass against Eddie’s clothed half-boner.

If God was real, then she was Robin Buckley. Eddie fucking decided.

Tightening his grip on Steve's waist, he grazed his teeth on Steve's pulse point. “It suits you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” Steve moaned and craned his neck aside. “There's also a rose gold one on my left nipple.”

Eddie checked immediately and true to Steve's word, he found it beneath the thin fabric.

Fuck.

He pulled Steve out of the bar and moments later, he found himself kissing the daylights out of Steve in his bed.

Once they parted, Eddie was pushed onto his back with Steve straddling him.

“Hi,” Steve smiled down at him, hips undulating artfully and driving Eddie crazy.

“Baby,” he choked, grabbing and pulling Steve down on his aching cock.

“Shh,” Steve stroked his cheek gently. “Let me make you feel good, okay?”

Eddie nodded and when Steve moved again, slow and sultry, he was a goner.

It was embarrassing how fast he came, but he couldn't care less when Steve looked so beautiful above him. Like an angel.

“Let's date,” Eddie blurted out sometime later while they were cuddling.

“You're not joking?” Steve arched an eyebrow.

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I mean you're beautiful and totally out of my league but–”

His rambling was cut short by tender lips.

“You’re lucky you're cute,” Steve smiled between the kiss. “Just treat me right and I’ll be all yours, honey.”

And since Eddie lived to serve, he had spent the rest of his life giving his baby everything, including his heart.

[bearambles]

ARUGUMENT FIC W HAMZAH PLEASE like gets into an argument and you need to cool off and leave and he won’t let you jus angst 👅👅

jealous

(hamzahthefantastic)

words: 1.9k

warnings: established relationship, angst, arguing, swearing, hamzah is kinda a pos, happy ending

note: i hope this is what you were hoping for! i could also 100% write a part 2. also, i think another anon recently requested an argument fic, so there might be another one coming bc it was honestly fun to write. love u all, more fics coming soon

hamzah is driving you insane.

he’s usually not the “jealous type”, but for some reason, today is different. he’s grumpy and pissy and you think you know why.

last night you had gone out to dinner with a few friends from your old school. you weren’t out late, and the group was only about ten people, but to his dismay, your ex boyfriend was one of them.

you told him about it as soon as you knew, and he was pretty passive as soon as he heard. still, he didn’t make too big of a deal, even when you wore your skimpy little outfit to the bar. after all, it was high school. besides, he trusts you.

that was until he saw the pictures. your exs hand on your waist. the way he’s next to you in the group photo. it all really pisses him the fuck off, and even when you swear to him it meant nothing and the guy didn’t mean it, he wasn’t so sure.

“y/n, you see this guy after like five years, you look fine as fuck wearing that tiny fucking skirt, and you think he won’t be into you?”

you scoff, your chest now rising and falling. you really never pegged hamzah as the type of guy to act like this. yet here he was, standing in your bedroom, a few feet away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.

you’d crawled into bed last night to him asleep, and the two of you had been completely fine until this morning. he woke up to see your friend post on instagram about the night prior. he scrolled through her photos before finding the ones of the whole group.

“okay, so it’s my fault if he was?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you meant it though!” you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated. “listen, i already told you it was nothing. but if it wasn’t, if he was interested, it doesn’t matter, because im dating you.”

he smiles tightly and shakes his head, the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

“sure. okay. yeah.”

“you think i’d cheat?”

you stare at him, your blood pressure rising. you can’t believe the way he’s acting. the shit he’s implying you’d do.

“i never fucking said that, y/n. i’m just saying he was touchy, and you won’t admit it.”

“it was one fucking photo! he happened to be next to me! where did you want him to put his hands?”

“anywhere else! not your waist! it’s fucking weird!”

“so you’re mad at me because of the way a guy acted towards me.” you say, sitting down on your bed and mimicking his move of crossing his arms. “that’s really fucking progressive of you.”

“oh my god, you know that’s not true. jesus christ. i’m not mad, im just fucking annoyed. and i don’t like how you acted either.”

“how did i act hamzah. you weren’t even fucking there.” you start to feel tears prick your eyes. you hate crying in front of him, you rarely do. but this was so frustrating, listening to him accuse you when you only love him.

“i still saw.” he mumbles, clearly losing what he was trying to say in the first place. he’s just spitballing stuff at this point.

he isn’t even looking at you any more. his eyes meet the floor and he’s breathing so hard you can hear it just barely. he’s close enough to where you could reach out to his arm and pull him on top of you. you won’t though.

“saw what? my tiny skirt?” you laugh, baffled. “just leave me alone.” you can feel some of the tears start to fall.

he looks up at you when he hears your voice break. his eyes soften their gaze but he stays where he’s standing. it’s silent for a moment before you speak again.

“go away, hamzah.” you say, moving your position to lay down, your face turned away from him.

“no. i wanna talk.”

you’re silent.

“y/n-“

“i said go away.” you mumble between sobs.

you’re stiff for a long moment before you hear him sigh. he turns and leaves your room, and you wait till you hear the door click before really letting yourself sob.

you’d dealt with this in the past - controlling relationships where anything you did around any ex was considered suspicious. in fact, you almost didn’t go last night. but you’d wanted to catch up with your old friends. if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have had your ex there either. he was a total jerk back in the day. but he was, and it was fine. you’d barely spoken outside of taking that group picture.

you don’t want to fight with hamzah. he’s your person. but the way he’s acting is scary.

eventually you decide you need some air. you get dressed, throw on some makeup, and head out the door. you don’t know where you’re going, but you know it needs to be away from here. away from him.

he jumps up from the couch and catches your wrist right before you can turn the knob. you whip your head around, and meet his eyes. he looks just as pissed as before.

“where are you going?” he asks, still gripping you hard

“what, do i need your permission to leave the fucking house now?” you bite back, wriggling our arm free, “get off me. i’ll be back later.”

he starts to protest, but you slam the door before you hear any of it. if you had any fucks left to give, youd tear up again. at this point though, you’ve had enough. if he wanted to be like this, you weren’t gonna entertain it.

the city’s relatively walkable, so that’s what you do. there’s plenty of stuff to do around the area. retail therapy, you think. whatever makes you forget about this argument for a while.

-

it’s late when you walk home. later than the night before, and later than you’d ever been out without calling. you and hamzah had one another’s location, so really, he could see anytime where you were. which was the outdoor mall, and then the local bar. you’d only had a few drinks, but you were there for a good two hours. just talking and talking to the bartender. you guys are friends, and she was a good listener. so she listened.

“he’s just being so mean. and like, he’s never mean. sometimes we argue and stuff, but it’s always over stupid stuff, you know? and like, we make up super quick. but he’s like, so mad at me. and i swear to god, i didn’t even do anything.”

“it’s his first real relationship, right?” she asks, while pouring a drink

“yeah. i guess maybe that’s why. i just like, never thought he’d be like this. all jealous.”

“i think most guys are, honestly. or at least, the insecure ones. either way though, he shouldn’t be acting that way. i’m glad you got out to clear your head.”

you nod and take a sip. you’re tipsy, you realize. it actually feels pretty nice though. letting loose to someone like this. you should be talking to hamzah, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen. you sigh and shake your head like it’ll clear the thoughts away.

when you walk through the door, the house is silent. it’s nearly one am, so you assume at first that hamzah fell asleep. that is until you’re going to hang your jacket up and hear him open the bedroom door. you press your eyes closed, ready for the reprimanding.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

you turn around to face him, and his eyebrows are knit together. he’s in the doorway, his arms crossed and his back against the doorframe. he chews at his lip.

“sorry.” you mumble, going to take your shoes off.

“sorry?” he scoffs, uncrossing his arms and using them as he speaks, “you were out for hours, y/n!”

“i told you i’d be back later.” you don’t look at him, don’t step forward. you stand there, your arms pressed against our chest, holding yourself tight.

“that’s all i get then? not even a text? what the fuck, y/n.” his nostrils flare as he talks, and he starts moving closer to you. “I had no idea if you were safe! you could have gotten fucking killed.”

you laugh, moving your head back like you can’t believe what he’s saying. though honestly - he’s right. the city can be sketchy, especially at night. you seldom went on walks without him this late. especially drunk. which, he hasn’t seemed to notice you are yet.

“killed? come on.”

“don’t act like that’s crazy to say. the streets are dangerous. you know that!” he’s in your face now, motioning with his hands. “seriously, y/n, what the fuck.”

you flinch as he raises his hands in exclamation.

“so you’re mad again, great.” before you know it, you’re crying again.

you hold yourself tighter as tears start to fall. you feel like a little kid, just standing there helpless. the drinks are really getting you now.

hamzah is silent for a minute as you sob. he stands so close to you, but doesn’t dare move. when you finally look up at him, his gaze has softened and his hands are in his pockets. he reaches out slowly to brush your hair out of your face, looking at you like he’s waiting for protest. instead, you lean into his hand on your cheek.

he stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell how he feels. his eyes scan your features, landing on your lips, which are quivering just slightly. after a few moments of just looking at one another, he puts his arms out, offering a hug.

you fall against his chest and start sobbing all over again.

he rubs circles into your back absent-mindly, whispering little “shhs”. you don’t even thin of how angry you were today. how mean he was. you just cry and let him hold you. he pulls you two apart and goes to hold your face in his palms.

“how much did you drink,baby? " he asks, wiping a tear.

“not that much. just like, a few.”

“a few what?”

“mmm seltzers?” you say, more of a question than an answer.

he sighs.

“okay. well, i think you should go to bed, yeah?”

your eyes scan his face, searching for whatever emotion he’s hiding. surely he’s still angry. you hold onto both his arms while you speak.

“hamzah.”

“yeah?”

“i don’t like my high school boyfriend.”

“i know.”

he presses his eyes shut tight. his chest rises and falls slowly and before you can argue that he clearly doesn’t know, he speaks again.

“i was gonna apologize when you got home.”

“but now you’re mad again.” you say, pouting

“not about that. and i’m not mad, y/n, i was worried. you were gone for five hours without a text or anything.”

“m’sorry.” you mumble, pressing your head against his chest again.

“let’s go to bed, okay?”

he strokes your hair as you breath in his scent. he’s warm, and it hits you how tired you are. Ou nod softly against him and before you know it, he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed. giggling, you land with a plop. he joins you and holds you tight.

“we can talk more tomorrow, yeah. you deserve a better apology but i have a feeling you won’t remember much of it if i tell you now.”

you nod, scooting back to press your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder. you fall asleep.

-

i hope you guys enjoyed >.< requests are open

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Under the Stars ❤️

Angst with a happy ending, mdni. 18+. Fwb but both parties are smitten and don't know it...❤️

❤️

Eddie can't help but smile as you giggle and attempt to move out of his embrace.

"Come on princess, stay" he kisses down your neck and disappears under the covers to press kisses over your stomach. "Stop" you shriek with laughter as his stubble tickles your skin.

He can't stop smiling as he settles beside you. "Come on sweetheart, stay" he pouts and you give in because you always find that look endearing.

"Okay, for a little while, then I have to go" you try to be stern but Eddie pulls an exaggerated sad face that sets off your giggles again.

"Can I see you tonight?" he asks hopefully and your smile dims. You look away from him and there's a distance to you that wasn't there before.

"I don't know. Aren't you seeing Stacey tonight?" he blinks at the sudden tenseness in your tone and swallows.

Ever since the two of you got together you both said this would be casual, you could both date other people and that was fine...at first.

The truth was he liked spending time with you, you were funny and sweet and the sex was incredible. He has been on a few dates with Stacey and a girl called Jenna before that and he thought they were nice and sweet but there wasn't this urgent need to see the two of them constantly.

He's trying not to look too closely at what that means, until you tell him something that makes his heart sink. "Um Pierre asked me out on a date, I said yes... I mean, you have Stacey and there was Jenna before that so I thought maybe I should get out there and date"

Eddie nods. He's been dreading this since your last date with Nathan; that guy was a total douchebag and now there was Pierre.

It's not like he could say anything. This is what you both wanted right? No attachments? Causally dating. Jesus H Christ he wanted to say something.

"Uh yeah, that's good, maybe I might meet up with Stacey then" he mumbles and you kiss his cheek, then move to his lips. The kiss lingers for a few seconds then you pull away, there's an almost sad and wistful expression in your eyes.

"I should go. I need to write this report for work and get ready for later" he nods and pulls you in for another kiss, it leaves both of you a little breathless and Eddie longing for more.

He watches you leave and sinks back onto his bed groaning. Fuck. He really should have said something.

❤️

Trying to pretend that this isn't eating him up inside he calls Stacey and they agree to meet up for a date. It would have been nice if it took his mind if you but it didn't, all he could think about was you hitting it off with Pierre and tossing him to the side.

The thought hurts like a bitch.

Stacey seems to realise that he's distracted and bluntly asks him what his problem is. "You're distracted all the time right now and honestly I'm fed up with it? I understand you're totally smitten with this other girl so maybe you should just..." She pauses at Eddie's stunned look.

"What?" he yelps and Stacey frowns.

"Am I wrong? you pine after her when she's not around and it should bother me but it doesn't because I don't think this is working out anyway so it's best we just go out separate ways anyway" Eddie is still stuck for something to say.

"We aren't... I'm not smitten with her...we're just, it's just casual and she's on a date tonight anyway" he says all of this but it feels wrong and Stacey seems to think so too. It doesn't help that thinking of you on this date is getting to him as well.

"Seriously Munson? Do you maybe think that she might have felt the same way but didn't think you did? That's why she's on this date instead of with you?" She shakes her head and gives him a potting glance.

"Good luck Eddie. You definitely need it" Stacey leaves at that point and he's left alone with a million thoughts running through his head and the truth hitting him all at once.

The truth is he really has fallen for you hard and he doesn't want to date anyone else. Just you. Yet he didn't realise it until now and it could be too late.

Fuck. Without another thought he leaves money on the table for the bill and races out of the restaurant, he's convinced he's possibly too late and you may have actually given up on him. Maybe you might hit it off with Pierre and be incredibly happy with him.

Even if the thought kills him inside he wants you to be happy but he's not losing you without putting up a fight.

Your apartment isn't far from the restaurant or his place, he's hoping you may be back from your date but dreading finding out how it went at the same time.

There's a halfway point between his apartment and your apartment that you and Eddie would meet up at sometimes, it's a beautiful park that you were in love with, you fed the ducks in the pond every Saturday and Eddie liked to join you.

In fact that's where the two of you first met. He wonders if that's how you met Pierre as well or if it was at work.

The thought of anyone else kissing you and making you giggle, making you come apart with pleasure and waking up beside you, tears new pieces of his heart away.

He really was a goddamn idiot.

❤️

When he gets to your apartment he knocks a couple times but realises that no one is home. The sinking feeling in his chest weighs heavily on him.

You must still be out with Pierre. He swallows down the disappointment that he feels and heads back outside.

He's just making his way past the entrance to the park when he decides to go in and have a few moments to himself.

While he's sitting in the bench he catches a glimpse of a very familiar umbrella and his heart leaps in his chest. You're walking towards him with a shy smile on your face.

"Hi" he feels almost shy seeing you and you return his grin.

"Hi, How was your date?" You ask softly and settle on the bench beside him. He realises this is his chance to tell you how he feels.

"Stacey and I aren't seeing each other anymore sweetheart" your eyes widen and you move towards him and rub his arm in a soothing manner.

"Oh, I'm sorry Eddie" he shakes his head and reaches out to caress your cheek, delights in the way that your eyes light up at his touch.

"I'm not. It should have ended a while ago...so how was Pierre?" He's dreading finding out but he has to know.

"Pierre is really nice but um... I'm not seeing him again" his fingers interlace with yours and he squeezes your hand.

"Good fucking riddance. You're mine, I adore you and I'm so sorry that it took me so long to realise" he blushes just a smidgen and adds on. "I really hope you feel the same way princess"

Your expression gives nothing away until he sees a tear roll down your cheek. "Do you know where I was just coming from Eddie?" He shakes his head and you answer him, "I was just coming back from your apartment but when you didn't answer the door I thought you were still with Stacey and I hated that thought" you confess.

Hearing this he moves closer to you "What a coincidence because I was just coming back from yours" you're smiling by this point and he wastes no time in kissing you.

"I don't want to be with anyone else, I don't want you to be with anyone else. So let's just be together and stop with all of this other shit yeah?" You're nodding vigorously and you kiss him again under the stars, on the bench and underneath the trees where the two of you first met.

❤️✨

[buckybabesonly]

Dirty Little Secret

Summary: You believe Bucky doesn’t even remember your name, not knowing he moans it to himself at night.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Masturbation (male)

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Wrote this on my phone lol sorry for any potential errors. Just wanted to get a little smutty post out there. Also - thanks for nearly 400 followers in just over one week of starting this blog! I’m so happy 🥲 Enjoy!

“Hey. Are you listening?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your eyes, breaking you out of your reverie. You blinked in embarrassment as Natasha scowled at you playfully.

“Seriously though, did you listen to anything I just said?”

“No,” you confessed sheepishly.

Her eyes followed your line of sight, landing on a certain Bucky Barnes.

“Ah. You started writing ‘Mrs Bucky Barnes’ across your notepads yet?”

You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks. Were you that obvious? You supposed that one would have to be blind not to notice the goo-goo eyes you gave Bucky all the time whenever he was in the vicinity.

He had arrived at the compound just a few months ago, settling in to his new reformed life away from his history as the Winter Soldier. Steve did his best to help him adjust, and from what you could tell, he was fairly quiet and kept to himself.

“He’s kind of exactly my type,” you confessed to Natasha quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“I see. You like a guy with a high body count, huh.”

“Nat!” You exclaimed, slapping her arm as she snickered at the double entendre. “Not funny.”

“Hey, he gave me this.” Natasha yanked up her top, showing off her scar just above the hipbone. “I’m allowed to be mean to him.”

You grumbled in response as Natasha leant closer, cocking an eyebrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, I really need you to help me run some analysis on this equipment we picked up from…”

You shuffled through the compound hallways, a stack of files in your arms. You rounded a corner sharply, almost colliding with a tall, dark figure who sidestepped you neatly.

“Jesus Christ!” Though a collision had been avoided, you squawked in shock nonetheless, promptly dropping the files onto the floor.

“Ah, shit. Sorry,” Bucky said, quickly kneeling down to collect them.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you floundered, cheeks flushing red. He straightened up and stacked the files on your arms neatly, his long fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. His eyes met yours as he offered you a half smile, the corners of his lips quirking up.

His irises were a gorgeous, gray blue, and you silently noted that you had never been stood so close to him before. He smelt so good, and he looked even better in his tight tactical gear.

“Thank you,” you stuttered, wanting to kick yourself at how ruffled you sounded. The effect this man had on you was unfair.

“You’re welcome…” he paused deliberately, and you offered your name to him eagerly. He repeated it, and you loved the way the syllables sounded on his tongue.

“See you around,” he said casually before he strode off again, leaving you a flustered mess in the hallway.

Okay, at least step one was accomplished - he finally knew your name, even if he might not remember it.

You sighed, knowing your little schoolgirl crush was going to be the death of you.

Bucky lay in bed that night, as he did most nights since coming to the compound, with his hands down his pants.

He liked to start off slow, usually. On the odd occasion, he would want it fast, his hands working overtime on his cock as he showered, water streaming over his body as he pumped himself to completion. He would cum hard each time, bracing himself against the shower tiles, your name on his lips.

But usually he liked to take his time. Enjoyed painting a picture in his mind, a mental porno in which you were the star.

God, you had been so fucking cute today. Bucky loved watching you squirm, seeing you blush, practically see the blood rushing to your cheeks.

He had playfully orchestrated the encounter in the hallway, able to smell your subtle perfume with his elevated senses (it had the smell of vanilla and sakura blossoms) as you power walked through the compound.

He was delighted when you practically unravelled in front of him just from a simple stare and a sweep of his fingers. He wondered what you would be like if he ever got you in front of him, naked, ready to take his cock.

His hand palmed his semi-hard erection as he settled back against the pillows, eyes closed. He teased himself, fingers gently tapping his dick, pulling slightly at his balls.

Your face was fixed in his mind. He recalled your wide, shocked eyes, your mouth open in a small ‘O’ as you gasped.

He imagined that mouth stretching wider, tongue lolling out, asking to suck his cock. You would be on your knees as he stood over you, feeding his dick into your warm cavern, and you would take as much as you could like a good girl. So eager to please.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky hissed, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants and freeing himself completely.

His cock was heavy and thick as it lay against his stomach, twitching slightly as his mind filled itself with the most lewd images of you.

Of course he knew your name. He had asked Steve for it after the first few times he’d spotted you, playing it off as a casual inquiry.

He moaned it now as he dragged drops of his pre-cum down his shaft, wishing it was your hands that was wrapped around his length.

Somehow he found it thrilling, the idea of you believing that he had no clue who you were. He wondered what your reaction would be if you could see him now, rendered a horny, sweaty mess as he masturbated to thoughts of you and only you.

He imagined you spread out in front of him, legs wide, panting and begging for him to fuck your tight pussy. He would slap the head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it against your wet folds, teasing.

In reality, he knew that if he ever found himself in that position, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Hell, he’d be the one begging you to let him fuck you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Bucky grunted, his hand beginning to move at a steady tempo. If he went too fast, he would definitely cum within seconds, and he wanted to make this last.

He imagined being able to fondle your soft breasts, imagined being able use his mouth on your nipples, wanting to suckle on your tits. He imagined being allowed to kiss every inch of your body, from your toes, up the inner thighs, through the valley of your breasts and to your lips.

He would kiss you with passion and fire, tongue searching yours, wet and hot and needy. He would cup his hand behind your neck, fuck into you slowly and make you moan his name into his mouth.

He tried to imagine how that would sound like, high pitched and breathy.

“Beg for me,” Bucky said aloud, his hand moving up and down his cock as he fantasised about it moving in and out of your cunt instead. “God, beg me to cum inside you.”

He bet your soaking pussy would feel ten times better than jerking off alone in his room, but for now, this was the best he could get. He imagined rutting into you, hard, watching you shake under him as you became undone.

“You gonna let me cum inside you, princess?” He groaned, feeling himself reach the edge. He could see you in his mind, touching your own clit, pleasuring yourself as Bucky’s fat cock disappeared inside you over and over and over again.

You would beg for him to breed you, to fill you up, that sweet mouth speaking the filthiest words.

“Ah - ah fuck, I’ll give it to you, you’re taking it all like a good girl,” Bucky gasped, his hand clenching around his thick, veiny cock before he released all the pent up sexual frustration inside.

Creamy, hot ropes of cum spurted out, onto his stomach. He steadily stroked himself through the high, imagining you crying out as you orgasmed, imagining you being filled up with his seed.

He envisioned how it would look as he continued to thrust, you letting yourself be used, whimpering at the over stimulation.

Bucky was breathing rapidly, body finally going lax as his sticky hand released his softening cock. His heart was beating rapidly as he licked his lips, sighing longingly.

One day, he thought, almost a prayer, one day I’ll get to see what you look like when you cum.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "Requesting for Jake (and Johnnie but it's not what you think) // Jake Johnnie and y/n go live in the car - Jake accidentally lets it slip that he was with someone - no one knew - y/n and Jake don't want anyone knowing that they're together ???  So they're scrambling to try and cover it up? Idk if that makes any sense but in my mind it does lolllll thanks"

Warnings: Fluff mainly, flirting, trying different candies, Jake and Johnnie being Jake and Johnnie, secret relationship between reader and Jake, cute, funny

Word count: little over 2k | not edited at all

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

As you're getting around to go do a video with Jake and Johnnie, your phone lights up. You lean over, picking up and smiling when you see Jake's name on the screen, "Hello?"

"Are you almost ready? Johnnie's getting a little impatient." Jake laughs and you can hear Johnnie in the background yelling but Jake raises his voice to cover it, "Well be there to get you in like ten minutes."

"Okay." You laugh, "I'm about ready."

"Okay. See you soon." Jake says and you agreed, "Yeah, bye." You smile as you hang up, getting ready to set your phone down, but you get a text that makes you stop.

It's from Jake, Remember, gotta keep your hands to yourself.

You smirk, setting down your brush to hold your phone with both hands, Aw, man. That's no fun. But since we're a secret, I guess I can manage.

You set your phone down, doing your finishing touches to your makeup, before you get another text from Jake, you're my favorite secret.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Hey." You say as you get in the car, "Look at you sitting in the back already." You turn to look Johnnie in the backseat and he stares blankly at you, "I don't like it."

Jake sighs making his voice all weird, "Well suck it up buttercup." He laughs as he starts to drive away. You bite your lip, keeping your head forward as you try to keep your smile at bay.

When you're with Jake, you're always giddy, happy to see him. You're always wanting to hold his hand, lay your hand his arm, kiss him.

Anything to be touching him.

But you can't do that right now. You and Jake agreed to try and keep things on the low, just have some private time for as long as you can before word got out and everyone went crazy.

"We got some American candy and some candy from over yonder to compare them to." Jake pulls into the parking lot, leaning forward to check if he's up far enough.

"Over yonder as in.. where, Jake?" Johnnie asks and Jake puts the car in park before turning around to look at him, "Can you not just go with the flow for once? Do you have to know everything?"

Johnnie nods, "Yeah, I'm an anxious person."

"Here." Jake hands him a regular Kit Kat, "Eat this."

"Ooh. Candy!" Johnnie's voice goes high, almost like he's about to pull out the Timmy card and Jake sighs, "Please, Johnnie. Keep Timmy in your pants."

You cover your mouth, fighting back laughter as Jake turns around, looking over at you, "What's so funny?"

You look at him, smirking slightly as you shrug, "You're just a funny guy, Webber." He laughs, "Ah, ha. Ha. I know." He winks at you before starting the stream, "Hello. It's me."

"And me." Johnnie buts in and you lean over, "I'm here, too."

Jake smiles, "You guys get the three stooges today.  Moe. Larry. And Curly." His eyes scan over the chat, "Today, I'm going to be making y/n and Johnnie try some candy snacks from over yonder, ya know?"

You watch as he reaches back, pulling a bag from the floor behind your seat.

"Oh!" He yells kinda loud, which makes you jump, "You can get one of these bad girls." He pinches his hoodie and pulls it out, "On the merch site."

He looks back at Johnnie and scoffs, "Stop tongue fucking your Kit Kat and show them your shirt, Jesus Christ Johnnie."

Johnnie tries not to laugh, "B-but. I thought that's what we were doing?"

You roll your eyes, laughing as he leans forward, "If you want to support us in being americas favorite ladies, click the link below."

"Yes, all proceeds will go to Johnnie smelling better than a hairsprayed chicken nugget." Jake claps his hands together, cutting Johnnie off before he can say anything, "Anyway. Let's get started."

He pulls something from the bag and looks at it, "So this is a melon flavored kit from what I'm guessing is Japan? Maybe?" He hands it to you and you look at it, "Cantaloupe I think."

You shrug, opening it up, "I mean.. it smells.. okay?" You hold the open candy up to Jake's nose and he takes a big, over-exaggerated sniff, "Mm." He groans, "Melony."

"You're so fucking weird." Johnnie shakes his head and you extend your arm back, "You wanna smell it, too?"

He leans in, "I don't smell anything."

"Hmm." You pull your arm back up, breaking off one of the bars, "Here." You hand one to Jake and he takes it, "Why thank you." He takes it and bites into it and Johnnie yells, "Thanks for waiting for us you jackass."

You laugh, looking between them and Jake puts the piece he bit off back on top of the bar, "Fine, I'll just magically reattach it."

You lean forward, "Yeah." You nod as you read the chats, "They fight like a married couple."

"We do not." Both Jake and Johnnie say at the same time and you tilt your head, "Really."

"I'm not married to Johnnie because my-" Jake stops and your eyes go slightly wide, "Because your what Jake?"

Johnnie leans up, "Yeah, Jake. Is there something I should know about?"

Jake laughs and shakes his head, biting into the candy, "Fuck you guys."

"Another woman, or man, I should know about?" Johnnie is clearly joking, but he wouldn't be if he knew about the two of you.

"Alright, no. I'm not.." Jake laughs, "I give this one a three point five."

"Way to change the subject." Johnnie says and Jake looks at him, "Can you-"

Johnnie cuts him off, "Not me. The people in the screen are saying it."

You lean forward, eyes scanning down over the chat,

User1- PLEASE they're so funny

User2 - Nahhh that sounded like Jake was about to spill a secret

User3- TELL US

User4 - JAKE WEBBER WHAT ARE YOU HIDING

User5 - he has a secret girlfriend. I'm calling it right now.

User6 - Jake would have told us, so no one jump to conclusions please

User 7 - Y'all don't know that wtffff Jake Jake Jake Jake Jake Jake please

User8 - I just joined, what happened?

"Well, I'll catch you up, Jake and Johnnie are arguing over the fact that they say they aren't a married couple." You laugh as you look at Jake, then to Johnnie, "And you guys so are."

Jake rolls his eyes, "Annyywaaay."

"Anyway." You and Johnnie say at the same time, both mocking Jake. You give Jake a smile, letting him know you're low key flirting with him.

"What the fuck." Johnnie shakes his head, "There's no way that just happened. Fucking mocking me you.. mocker."

Jake rolls his eyes at Johnnie and smirks at you, "Anyway."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A little while later, towards the end of the stream, you're trying these chocolate candies, "Ah." You catch chocolate in your hand, "Why is it melting like this?”

"I don't know, I can't read Japanese." Jake laughs, "Hang on." He reaches over, grabbing a napkin and wiping it off your pant leg, "Goddamn. We can dress you up but we can't take you out."

"Wait, I thought you only said that to me." Johnnie pouts, "You backstabbing bitch."

Jake laugh, hanging his down as he shakes it, "Johnnie, I can't take you anywhere in general."

"Fair. Fair." Johnnie nods and you try to eat the candy but it gets on your lip and down your chin, "Ope." You close your lip, pointing with your pinky so Jake can get you another napkin.

"Jesus Christ, y/n. You're messier than I am." Johnnie laughs and you roll your eyes. Jake wipes your chin and lip with his thumb and pops it into his mouth, without thinking of course.

"Did you just.. Jake. You're holding a fucking napkin." Johnnie points and Jake just stares at you, panicking on what to do.

You lick your lips, wiping your chin off with the napkin, "now that I can speak, Johnnie. At least I don't leave black hair color stains on Jake's white seats."

Johnnie purses his lips and points to you, "That.. is from my root cover up bullshit. It's not easy being a blonde who dyes their hair, ya know."

Jake leans back over into his seat and laugh, "That's why you're stupid, stupid fuck."

You and Jake gently, well you gently bully Johnnie. Jake just bullies him to try and cover up what he did to you, but the chat won't let it go.

User9 - DID HE JUST- he didn't

User10- PLEASE HE HAD A NAPKIN

User11 - if I was y/n right now I'd be dead

User12 - that was so hot WTF

User13 - PLEASS GELL MW THEURE DAYING

User14 - JAKE blink if you like y/n

User15 - Johnnie absolutely kills me he's so funny without even trying LMAO

User16 - Johnnie knows. Johnnie tell us. Please Johnnie. Please SPILL IT

"Wait." Johnnie leans forward, "What did I spill?" He looks around and Jake laughs, "You idiot, they're telling you to spill something, you know like a secret. Fuck, why are we friends?"

"Because.." Johnnie changes his voice, "You love me. I'm all you have."

"Not true." Jake mumbles as he glances over at you because raising his voice loud enough for Johnnie to hear, "Yeah, yeah. I guess. Whatever you say."

"I'll take it." Johnnie nods and leans back, "so is that all or is there any other things we need to try?"

"Yeah, you need to try shutting the fuck up for once." Jake tries not to laugh, but fails, snorting as he rests his head on the steering wheel, "Fucking hell, Johnnie."

"As I said. Married couple." You laugh as you break apart another Kit Kat and hand a piece to Jake.

Johnnie slowly leans forward, his voice is quiet, "You'll have to kill me if you want me to stop, because I'm never going to stop."

Jake waits a few seconds and quickly reaches his hands up, trying to get Johnnie's neck.

User17 - we're about to witness the murder of Johnnie Guilbert

User18 - rip Johnnie

User19 - idk how y/n puts up with them

You sigh, shrugging as you tilt your head, "I don't know either, honestly." You laugh, reaching up to break up the small cat fight between the boys, "Hey, no blood on the white interior."

"Yes mom." Jake faces forward, hands in his lap and Johnnie salutes you, "Yes ma'am."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, "Do we have anything else to try?" Jake shakes his head, "No, I don't think we do." He looks over at you, "I am hungry though."

You and Johnnie both agree and Johnnie sighs, "Stop. Fucking. Copying me."

"Stop fucking copying me." You mock him with a laugh and Johnnie hangs his head down, "You're lucky you're not Jake saying that because if it was Jake I-"

"What." Jake spins around, "What will you do, you big bad. Emo goth guy?" He tries not to laugh again and Johnnie just reaches up slowly, tapping him on the cheek, "That. Thats what I'd do."

"You hit like a bitch bro, remind me to never have you on my side in a fight." Jake turns around laughing and Johnnie just sighs, "I can't stand you."

"You love me." Jake smiles at him and Johnnie tries not to laugh, "Fuck off."

"You know.. I'd- nevermind." Jake laughs, shaking his head, "Nevermind. Okay. So that's it for today. See you in the next one, bye."

Johnnie waves, along with you and Jake ends the stream.

It's quiet for a few minutes as everyone gets situated for the drive to get food and Johnnie breaks the silence, "so are you guys like fucking? Or what?"

You and Jake glance at each other, neither one of you willing to answer and Johnnie huffs, “Mm. Just as I suspected.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

This was literally written on a whim. I had this sitting in my drafts for a little while and I finally just sat down and kept writing until I felt like it was good enough to stop.

I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think.

Love you all! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[zweiginator]

yes !! art feeling left out of the whole patrick-tashi and her roommate thing that he only found out about because patrick of course told him and he's so fucking jealous because he always had the biggest crush on reader ...

yes yes YES!

imagining patrick and tashi go out with art one day. art is crossing his fingers hoping you'll be there but you aren't. you had gone home for the weekend.

and he notices how weird tashi and patrick are acting. they're much more cuddly and happy-go-lucky. weird, because they normally are way more argumentative with each other, more hotheaded. not that they had a bad relationship--that was just them.

"you guys seem--happy." art says. they are at their favorite pizza place.

"all three of us won our matches, why wouldn't we be?" tashi looks confused; she takes a sip of her water.

"i mean like, generally. not that that's bad--just curious."

patrick shrugs. does this stupid little smirk that drives art mad. like he's trying to be coy but also wants to let you know that something big definitely happened.

so he and patrick do their tug-of-war. patrick lets on that he has news, art asks him to tell him. patrick says no, no, i can't. art ends up begging until patrick decides he will be a good friend and let him in on the secret.

he looks at tashi. who clearly doesn't want patrick to tell art, but she rolls her eyes and says go ahead.

"we've been--" patrick pauses. for dramatic effect or just to gather his thoughts--art doesn't know. "fooling around with y/n."

art's face drops. "like tashi's roommate?" he has so many questions. "what do you mean, fooling around? we?"

"i dunno." patrick shrugs. "she's inexperienced so we are showing her the ropes, i guess. not a big deal."

"so you're having-" art lowers his voice. "threesomes?"

"no. i wouldn't consider it a threesome at all."

patrick explains the dynamic. art shouldn't be asking about this, and realistically, they shouldn't be delving into all this with a third party--but they can't help it. they like the novelty of it all. how taboo it is. and patrick loves to one-up art. to peacock.

so art listens to how patrick ate your pussy. patrick goes into everything in such intricate detail. art almost shatters his glass when tashi and patrick explain how they taught her how to suck cock.

"jesus christ." is all art can say. it's not like it makes him respect you less, but he is jealous. he has been right there, a close friend of tashi and patrick's for years, close enough for you to grasp onto him--for years. and you choose patrick. a tale as old as time.

"you okay, artie?" tashi asks. she reaches over the table to touch art's hand.

patrick knows that look on art's face. that seething yet boyish anger that permeates his features. makes him look livid and like a dejected, abandoned little puppy all at once. patrick has only seen that look during situations when art is fucking infuriated. when they were little, it happened when art dropped his ice cream cone. then it became commonplace when art lost a tennis match. and from his adolescence and into early adulthood patrick had only seen it one time--when patrick went on a date with a girl he liked.

but that was a date. an innocuous date to a shitty movie. they never kissed and they never saw each other again. so this look was menacing, it had a bite to it.

but art felt stupid being upset. he had never told anyone about his crush; it felt easier that way, when he was inevitably let down. but patrick had everything--the tennis skills, the wealthy family, the pretty, perfect girlfriend that everyone on campus wanted. it felt like a fucking kick to the stomach to art that he got you too. and of course, to patrick, you were just another notch in his belt.

"fuck." patrick feels awful. he knows how art gets with crushes. idealizes them, let them suffocate his thoughts, self-sabotage, rinse, repeat. he rests his head in his hands. "dude, i didn't know. i'm sorry."

tashi interjects. "what am i missing?"

"art has a crush on her."

"why didn't you tell us we could've-"

art interrupts tashi. "well it's too late now.

"hear me out." nothing good patrick has ever said has started with those words. but art listens. "join us for a lesson."

"do you fucking hear yourself patrick?" art crumples a napkin, throws it on his plate. "i just told you i like this girl--who you're not even romantically involved in beyond corrupting her--and you're saying oh, i can share her with you. like, fuck off."

"will you just listen?"

"no, i won't." he gets up, fumbles with his car keys. "fuck you guys. all you do is think about yourselves. you have these weird fantasies of like, dominating everyone you know. all your relationships have an awkward fucking hierarchy. like, have you ever thought of just being normal? having normal relationships with people? whatever you're doing with her--isn't normal. it's fucking manipulative. and we all know that anything you guys can't manipulate isn't worth your fucking time. so i'll just leave now."

(angsty cliffhanger for dramatic effect)

[lollytea]

Please, your finale Huntlow thoughts, my liege. We poor peasants beg of you, our bowls are empty and your tables full; if we might have but a crumb of your succulent meal to fill our bellies in these cold December nights.

ASGCDHBDJNK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

I got a few asks about this but I guess I'll answer this one cuz it's phrased the funniest. I just wasn't too pressed about giving my Thoughts about finale Huntlow because I am fully a part of the Huntlow hivemind. Like I feel the way everyone else feels. I'm ecstatic, I'm delighted, I'm overwhelmed, I'm emotional, I'm so happy for them, I got everything I could have wanted. I won. We won.

(I HAVE TOO MANY PICS. I'LL RB WITH PART 2)

First of all this scene is so special to me, you have no idea.

It isn't inherently romantic but it's still so sweet and shows how much these two care for each other. Here's Willow, who's spent the last special Atlasing and repressing and refusing to rely on anyone else. But then she had her breakdown in front of Hunter and he realized just how stressed and scared she's been this whole time. She's visibly anxious and upset here, likely worrying up a storm because she hasn't found her Dads yet. And Hunter is right here beside her. He's seen her meltdown, he's felt her pain, he's heard her cry. He knows that Willow is in a fragile state at the moment. He knows she's been holding in a lot. He knows she's scared. I love that he's not only standing by her side and helping her search, but holding her too. It could be that she vocally expressed how worried she was to him, or maybe he just saw it on her face, but he probably placed that hand on her back to comfort her, let her knows he's right here, grounding her. And Willow, who's still learning how to depend on others, is letting him.

The way Hunter lights up when he sees Harvey and Gilbert, thrilled by how happy he knows she's going to be and his soft smile when he points them out to her. And then THIS!

Like Hunter is devastated. He feels alone and out of place here. He really thinks he has nobody. But Willow being happy can still bring a smile to his face. He just loves her so much!!!

And I know I already talked about the grom photo but UGHH!!!

I got a pic in better definition. I'm pretty sure this is Hunter's first grom. So likely a few months after the events of WAD. And it's so cute to think about Hunter and Willow very awkwardly but eagerly navigating a romantic relationship. I love how grabby and flirty Willow looks here, messing with his bowtie. She clearly LOVES the floral suit, thinking he's like the hottest man alive. She needs to smooch him and NOW. Or she's just like "Oh my, what a nice collarbone you have!!" Idk the ambiguity of what exactly Willow is doing here but the vibe and general intentions being very obvious is my favourite part of this pic. You can speculate for years on this. Oh and Hunter's face, I love it so much. His dumb little blush is like an old friend. He's fucking THRILLED that he's getting so much attention from her. He's very excited about where this is going. But he's also like. So nervous he's gonna pass out. But overall he's having the time of his life. Bi rights!

Also epilogue Huntlow....guys....guys epilogue Huntlow....are you guys still listening to me at this point?

God I love this scene. Its so natural and smooth, giving the characters a chance to breathe and exist and providing a glimpse of how they go about their daily lives. It's soft and lighthearted but it establishes so much about where Willow and Hunter are currently at in their relationship. They've been dating for like....3 years at the very least. And they're clearly very happy together!!

The way Willow casually slides on to the scene, giving the impression that she's often dropped in on him while he's working. And why wouldn't she? That's her sweetheart. What if she requires emergency smooches? What then? And of course, there's Hunter beaming at the sight of her. Seems he never gets tired of his girlfriend stopping by to visit. Or maybe he's sick to death of Willow the menace showing up to distract him while he's trying to work and he's just excited about the prospect of Luz's party. Either way, it's an adorable expression.

Something else I love about epilogue Huntlow is how equally distributed the affection is between both of them. Back when FTF dropped I gushed about how sweet it was to see Hunter taking initiative with Willow and the significance of something as simple pressing his backhand against hers during the pinky hold. And God, this sequence here says it all. From what I can tell, as Hunter runs towards her, they both reached out at the same time and linked hands immediately, implying that holding hands has become the automatic gesture for them whenever they meet up. They're in love, you're honor.

I love the huge carefree grins as they skate down the hill (still holding hands). They might have grown a lot since we last saw them but they're still young adults, they still love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff. And even better, they love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff together. All the handholding and fluffy cuteness is wonderful but I also love knowing that they seem to genuinely enjoy just hanging out and spending their youth with each other. Zeno was right, they ARE besties. Who knows how much shit Hunter and Willow get up to together? Being a pair of thrill seeking athletes, it's probably a lot.

This part is just so silly and ridiculous. After they go stumbling, Willow's first instinct is to grab Hunter and hold on for dear life. Her intense scrunched up expression is just so funny. "I will protect you, my love. No big dumb hill is going to harm a hair on your pretty head. Your girl is here." And Hunter barely acknowledging it (it probably happens a lot) because his life is currently flashing before his eyes. GOD they're just such nerds.

Oh and this frame is just SO adorable. The way Willow's hold on him lingers for a moment before he walks towards the grave, Hunter's heart eyes. They're clearly still so soft and touchy with each other. And this is after three years. I know they were insufferable when they started dating as teens.