#gone and dead after that stunt

[shespsycho]

the one and only veronica cared about canonly was her father robert carrigan. he saved her from an abusive home in her infancy. she was very much a daddys girl, he was her best friend. that was until he chose ed over her, leaving little time for roni to spend with her dad. so she framed ed for p********** to get rid of him, and nearly got away with it…

she was found out when robert discovered veronica was hiding her medications inside a teddy bear. for her actions he had her admitted to a psychiatric ward. veronica felt so betrayed. the man was dead to her. no forgiveness. fuck men for ruining her life.

[weixuldo]

Who's your Daddy?

Older!James Kelly x f!reader

(SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG OMLLLL- i’ve never written anything other than starwars lol- but I hope this is enjoyable. I also havent ever written fauxscest and I wouldn't say i'm really into it, but I feel like it fits the character lowkey)

One of James' customer mistakes you for his daughter and you actually play along...James isnt thrilled

warnings: dead dove do not eat?, Fauxscest, age gap, orgasm denial, just regular schmegular smex, name calling,

________________

 “Fuck Jamie!” you squealed as DILF!James Kelly harshly bent you over the old camaro that had been sitting in his shop for the past two weeks. 

His strong tattooed hand had your nicely curled hair in a strong grip as he smacked your ass with the other. “You wanna act like a child so bad, then I’ll treat you like one” he said as he continued to spank you. 

Earlier, James had been finishing up a job on an old Ford pickup and was negotiating payment with the owner when you skipped out from inside the shop wearing shorts and a tank top.

In James’ “office”- really just a room with a chair and desk that he’d toss papers on (or eat you out on)- he had a bowl of candy just in case a client brought around their kids. James never really knew what to do with kids, but you told him having a candy jar would make him seem less scary.

Of course he had one the next day.

But clients never really brought their kids around the shop so you got to enjoy the majority of the candy. Today you were feeling the cherry lollipop and twirled it around your mouth as you scampered out to see what James was up to. 

As you walked out you saw James broad back facing you as he stood with his arms crossed towards a gruff man with gray hair. They looked like they were talking shop- how boring.

You sighed and were about to go back inside when the gray haired man noticed you. 

“Kelly, you never mentioned ya had kids?”. 

James was taken aback- kids? 

He turned to see what the man was looking at when his icy eyes landed on your tantalizing form; it was nearly 97 degrees and humid as fuck- why the hell did you look so good?

He subconsciously licked his bottom lip before remembering the man’s comment; he turned back just about to protest when you skipped up to him and threw your arms around him. 

“He’s never mentioned me?” you said with a fake pout. 

“But dad- I thought you were proud of me? Why don’t you tell your friends about me?” 

James was too stunned to speak- sure, you’d occasionally call him “daddy” in bed but he never thought that act would leave the bedroom. His left eye twitched as he looked down at your doe eyed expression. 

“Haha- I’m sure yer Dad’s proud of ya kiddo- probably just wanted to hide you away cause you’d have all the boys riled up” the gray haired man chuckled as James fought to keep his frustration at bay. 

“Is that why daddy?” you asked innocently. 

James was pissed

…

and extremely turned on.

But he was really bothered that his client was obviously checking you out right in front of him. He clenched his jaw once more before straining out an answer. 

“Yea thats why, sweetheart. I’d hate to have to get the shotgun out of the shed for something other than hunting” he falsely smiled. 

You hugged him once more before heading back inside “Well I’ll let you two keep talking- Thanks for choosing my dad’s shop” you smiled at the man before your boyfriend. 

He shot back a bright grin “Not a problem darlin’, I’ll be sure to come to yer Dad’s shop from now on haha”. 

James clenched his fists at his sides, he could feel himself losing his composure.

The man finally paid James and added a little extra and told him to “buy somethin’ nice for that daughter of yer’s”. 

Oh- James would definitely not be buying you something nice after the little stunt you just pulled. 

“She's a looker Kelly, better keep an eye on her'' the man commented once more before hopping into his newly fixed truck. 

James just nodded as he counted the money the man paid him, “Yea, i’m always lookin at her- especially when she's bouncing on my cock”. 

The old man’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets; “Pardon?!”. 

James finally met his eye once more with a smug look, “Yea, she’s not my daughter- that’s my girlfriend”. 

The man just sat with the truck held in reverse as he tried to replay the whole interaction. 

“And I’m gonna fuck her raw for that shit she just pulled- Thanks for the tip and have a nice day” he said before shoving the cash into his pocket and shutting the garage gate. 

You had taken a seat at James’ desk as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. You thought it was funny to play with him like that but you didn’t think it would get him too worked up- so when you heard him call for you to come out to the garage your body buzzed with nervous excitement. 

He had called your name harsher than he normally would so you could tell he was feeling some type of way but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what… were you about to be lectured, yelled at, or fucked? 

Maybe all three heh

James was standing domineeringly with his feet slightly parted and arms crossed tight as you entered the garage. 

“Yesss? What’s wrong Jamie” you answered innocently. 

He clicked his tongue and cut his eyes, “you know damn well what you were doing”. 

You pouted your pretty lips and shook your head, “I don’t really see anything wrong with joking” you said smugly. 

Annnd now you’re here, bent over his camaro with him ruthlessly plunging his thick cock in and out of you.

James’ veins popped as he tugged at your hair with one hand and angled your hips up with the other. He was panting like an animal as he forcefully thrusted into you, heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. 

“Fuck, please! Jamie- Slow down!” you cried as you grounded yourself on the hood of the old car as your boyfriend hit it from the back. 

“Jamie?” he questioned, squeezing your ass harder.

“James!” you managed.

He let out a low chuckle that made you even wetter than before, “you wanted to call me dad so bad earlier, what happened, doll?”. 

You could hear his stupid smirk in the way he spoke, you wanted to say something but all that was coming out were pathetic whimpers and moans.

You felt him shudder as you clenched your gummy walls around his throbbing cock- “s-shit” he cursed under his breath as he slowly pulled out until just his tip was left in you. 

Your eyes were already brimming with tears-but when he stopped his movements, the tears started to flow. Your poor pussy ached for him to slide between your folds- once he started, you needed him to finish. 

It was almost criminal how empty you felt without your boyfriend’s dick inside of you. You began to whine the longer he held still. 

“You think you’re so slick, little brat” he growled as his rough palm made contact with your bright red ass cheek for the umpteenth time. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear and you felt the cool silver of his cross chain as it slid down your arched spine. 

“Who am I” he asked with a dangerous lilt to his voice. 

“James” you cried again, you knew that was the wrong answer but you needed him to keep going.

Without warning he plunged into you and bottomed out as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. But just as fast as he was in, he had resumed the previous position. 

“Incorrect” he said before pulling completely out. 

You whimpered before he flipped you around so that you were staring at his flushed face; God he was perfect. Looking down between the two of you- his hard cock was completely coated in your combined juices and twitched as he stood over you. 

He grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your aching core once more before shoving himself in with an abrupt snap of his hips. You gripped onto his forearms as you yelped. 

“Who am I” he asked once more, his voice low with lust. 

“D-Daddy” you cried in humiliation as you shied away from James’ watchful eyes. 

He halted his movements and leaned closer to your ear, “Almost. What did you call me earlier, doll?” he said with a devious smirk. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, “...dad”. 

“What was that baby? Didn’t hear ya” James taunted. 

“DAD!” you wailed as you dug your nails into your older man’s forearms. 

“That’s it, Sweetheart” he smiled as he quickened his pace. 

You moaned as his sloppy thrusts jiggled your breasts around for Jame’s viewing pleasure. You felt your high approaching fast. 

“Fuck- I”m close- I” you cried as James continued diving deeper and deeper into your sopping cunt. 

James bit his bottom lip and pulled out as fast as he had been fucking you; leaving you with a disappointingly empty feeling. You gasped at the loss of his massive member and your eyes shot open to see why your boyfriend felt the need to pull out. 

There he was in all of his glory; brow adorned with sweat , face flushed, brows drawn together, and lips parted. Soon you felt his warm ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach, you whimpered at the wasted seed and your lost orgasm. 

He finished stroking himself with a shudder and squeezed out the rest of his spend onto you with a low groan. 

“W-why?” you almost cried as your boyfriend began to clean himself off. 

“Good girls wouldn’t cum from their dad’s dick-” he tossed you a towel from the hanger on the wall, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, little one”. 

“Once you’ve had time to think about your actions and clean up- maybe I’ll consider letting you cum” he said before leaving you alone and empty in his dim office. 

***

lol I hope you enjoyed :)

[pedgito]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 — one: beginnings | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

chapter summary | You're dead weight, a burden on Joel's shoulders after the death of his daughter and the collapse of the world. But, if there's one person to challenge him, it was you.

author's note | this spurred from jo (@undercoverpena) and i, a conversation over kinks and wanting to explore them in separate chapters but somehow create a cohesive story and here we are. she spun for me and gave me a collection of beautiful kinks to try out. this is going to be BIG one for me, so if you plan on staying along for this ride, i love you so much.

chapter warnings | 18+, early outbreak, age gap (early 20s, mid 30s), canon character de*th, canon typical violence, m*rder tw, morally grey!joel with trust issues, tommy is buffer, use of weapons, weapon training, unjust decision making, reader is such a nuisance to joel, sex as a distraction, joel is so emotionally stunted he can't help it, awkward aftercare

word count —6k

SERIES MASTERLIST, PLAYLIST, AO3

You’ve never seen so much blood.

His shirt was soaked to his neck, expression blank and void as Tommy rounded the truck to open the door—it wasn’t the same one you’ve seen pull into their driveway for years now. It was new, unfamiliar. Joel’s weighed down, his arms straining as he heaves whatever he’s holding up in his arms, finally coming from around the door and into view. Her curls fell first, body limp in Joel’s arm as he held her close–it was Sarah. Little Sarah who you would babysit in high school for extra cash when the Miller brothers had to work a few extra jobs to pay the bills, little Sarah who always had the biggest smile on her face. Not so little anymore, years gone and passed as you graduated and went off to work some dead-end job to stay afloat in hopes that you could attempt to pay a college tuition.

But, that all seemed futile now. 

It was late September when the world ended—Joel’s birthday, you’d know that from the fact Sarah had mentioned it to you that morning as she checked the mail that Joel had forgotten from the day before. A normal day for you, for everyone else. But, for Sarah and many others, it was their last.

The neighborhood was quiet now, the hoard of freshly turned infected heading for the inner city and toward the noise, like one singular hivemind following a predetermined path. 

And your parents—they weren’t even here. They had left for vacation a week prior, spending the next two weeks out of the country, celebrating their anniversary far away from responsibility and the barrage of news from all over the world. But, they would come back to nothing. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t wait around—it would get you killed; starvation, lack of resources, it would only get you so far. 

The infection was worldwide, incurable—it was the last thing you heard before the satellite on your television cut out, snuffing out any last bit of hope you had left.

In the midst of Joel’s mindless walk to the front door of his home, Tommy glances over his shoulder to survey, likely for more infected. But, he spots you.

His eyes squint slightly, like he’s seeing a vision of you. They widen as he realizes you’re real, you here—you were shaking, arms crossed over your chest and your fingers digging into your biceps as you hid by the shadow of your door.

Tommy knows that look, your eyes go wide but soften as he approaches. 

You can’t say you’ve held a conversation longer than five minutes with either of them, even after living next to them most of your life, but his hands are held up as he approaches and carefully, almost as if you were going to scurry away like a feral cat.

“You alright, honey?” His voice is quiet, a hushed whisper as he comes closer and stops a few inches, peering inside of your house and finding it empty, “Are they—did they—”

He looks over at you wearily and your fingers dig into your skin, peering over his shoulder and staring at the open door, Joel no longer in sight, “They left on a trip and I—I don’t,” You sigh through your nose, closing your eyes to blink away the stinging tears, “They’re dead either way, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t answer, but his hand reaches around to rub at your back and you fall into him easily.

“Sarah–” Tommy tenses up, pulling away slowly to look at you as you peer up at him, noticing the near permanent frown on your face, your expression unchanging as you attempt to process and fail—it wasn’t fair, none of it made sense, “is she dead?”

The sound of something fragile falling and breaking in Joel’s house startles you both, sending you both apart and rushing toward the house without thinking. The idea of being alone now was more fearful than anything else—no survival instinct, no plan or method to stay alive. You’d be dead by next nightfall if you stuck around though, that much you knew.

The sight sends your heart into your stomach. Joel was hunched over Sarah’s lifeless body, his arms sticky with blood—some of it dried and some of it not. There were a few broken picture frames on the floor at Sarah’s feet and you felt your breath catching in your throat, watching as Joel brushed her hair from her face and cried, silently.

“Joel,” Tommy begins, slow and careful, “we’ve gotta figure out a plan.”

“We’re buryin’ her first,” Joel tells him, “not leavin’ her like this.”

Tommy nods in understanding, looking over at you briefly.

“Listen, Joel…”

“She ain’t our problem, Tommy.” He bites harshly, resting Sarah down gently as he rose from his knees, “Kid’s got her own family.”

“Joel,” Tommy stresses, motioning toward you subtly—Joel looks reluctantly and he can see the fear, practically smelling it on you—it’s the last thing he needs right now, “they’re gone—can’t leave her here.”

“We can.”

“We won’t.”

You take a few careful steps back, quiet and timid, away from the brothers.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy moves in, blocking his brother’s face from view as you lingered near the open front door, staring out toward the street as you couldn’t bare the sight of Sarah’s body laying a few feet to your right, “she used to babysit Sarah—helped you out in a pinch a hundred times. I understand this—”

“This is my daughter—”

“She’s my niece too, goddammit—don’t try and spin this, Joel.” Tommy rocks on his heels, hands hugging his hips as his shoulders stretch out, broad and wide, “We bury her, we get our shit and we go–I’m not losing you, too. I will drag your ass out of here if I have to.”

There’s a sliver of Joel’s face that comes into view as he peers over Tommy’s shoulder at you, eyes dragging over you carefully before he returns to Tommy, “She’s ain’t worth the trouble.”

He’s completely tossing aside the fact that you were an adult, young but still—you sigh shakily, “I can carry my own weight, you know?”

He’s stoic, a long stretch of silence as Tommy stares him down, lingering and waiting for Joel to come to his senses, but even when he does—it’s forced.

“Then start loading the truck,” Joel tells you, “anything—food, water—”

“Yeah, I got it.” You respond in a pinched tone, trying to stifle your own emotions.

Joel doesn’t argue further, picking up Sarah with a sudden gentleness that returns at the sight of his daughter while Tommy disappears to the attached garage and you linger for a brief moment as Joel admires her, knowing that this was all he had. Knowing that eventually even this memory would fade over time.

His guard softens as he looks at her and you find that was the right time to speak more candidly.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” You tell him, your voice quiet as you approach and he looks at you briefly, acknowledging with a nod as you move beyond him and toward the kitchen, “she’s a sweet kid.”

His voice breaks but barely wavers, a subtle sign of emotion that he was suppressing deep down.

“She was.”

His departure after that is quiet, meeting Tommy at the backdoor as he reentered from the garage with the shovels and blanket in hand, a sorrowful look on his face that furrowed his brow.

They both worked silently in the backyard while you loaded up what you could. Their house was mostly scarce, knowing Joel was probably creeping up on a shopping day that would never come. There’s a few canned goods you manage to scavenge along with a decently untouched pack of water bottles and while you couldn’t brave the other houses in fear that something else might be lingering, you gather what you can from your own. 

By the time you’re closing up the truck bed they’re both walking toward you, a gun tucked away in both of their waistbands and a rifle in Joel’s free hand—his arms were cleaner, albeit still dirty.

He’d changed, rid himself of the bloody clothes and brushed past you silently, his eyes dark and empty. 

Tommy stops at your feet, offering up a knife sheathed in a leather casing that you could attach to your jeans, “Ain’t got another gun, but it’s somethin’.”

You nod slightly and take it from his grip, “Thank you,” You tell him, turning to find Joel waiting with the door open, expecting that you would climb into the middle as there was nowhere for you to go, unless the truck bed seemed like the better option—it didn’t.

It was blind trust, putting your life in the hands of both brothers. 

But, you had no choice. All that mattered was living.

—

And for Joel, the cost didn’t matter.

It’s jarring, frightening. His emotions are like a light switch—when on, he’s calm and able to hold small talk, but even that was forced and uneasy. But, when your supply dwindles down after a week or so of driving and camping in the deep brush of forest, you find what the light switch is like when it’s off.

It was a stranger, a helpless guy alone and clearly on the verge of death. All of you were on edge, the dwindling September heat still lingered into October and you had blew through your last bottle of water the night before, sweat dampening your clothes as you sifted through the aisles of the convenience store that was bare bones and empty by now but you were hoping, praying—but then you hear it and to Joel, it was prey. 

He yanks your knife from where it’s secured at your waist, so quick you barely even feel the tug as he carefully steps around the corner toward the counter, finding an older gentleman with feeble hands and energy that was dying out by the second. He was starving, dehydrated. But, so were you. And so was Joel.

“Joel, don’t.” You speak from behind him, “There’s another store in town. It’s bigger.”

“Hand it over,” Joel demands, the knife tucked away in his right hand behind his back as he held out his left, beckoning with his fingers as the man stared on, bottom lip trembling in fear as he squeezed at the plastic bottle, “now.”

There’s a moment of hesitation where the man begins to speak, shaking his head, but Joel is on him before he gets the chance, shoving the knife through the center of his throat—quick, quiet, efficient. You sigh deeply, knowing it was already coming. Joel wipes the blood away on the now dead man’s pants and snatches up the water bottle before he’s shoving it into your chest and sliding the knife back into the holster.

“You killed him,” Joel looks at you torsely, eyes half-lidded as he waits for you to continue, “you—you didn’t have to kill him, Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” He answers with finality, “Tommy’s waiting’, let’s go.”

You glance at the dead body with a grimace, the weight of it pulling down as the man slumped to the floor and his blood pooled closer and closer toward you. You step back quickly and follow after Joel who’s already ringing the bells on the door above the entrance.

“That was quick—no trouble?” Tommy asks when you return to the truck, climbing over Joel’s lap as he refuses to move, digging your knee into his thigh out of annoyance.

He takes it in stride, though. Doesn’t even react.

“No,” You lie easily, “Last one, though.”

You’ve learned to not speak on it—Joel’s quick tendencies for anger and bruteness. Hell, most of the time you could just ignore it, like now. Arguing never worked, Joel didn’t care enough.

Besides, you were just a waste of resources. Joel said it so often that it echoed in the back of your mind every time he slashed, stabbed, or gutted someone for something you needed, or wanted.

It started in small glimpses, you or Tommy could say a word, make a noise, and Joel’s brow would pinch together and the scowl on his face would deepen. 

And Tommy was objectively selfless, which bothered Joel more than it should—but given how things were, it made sense. Good karma wasn’t going to do anything for your conscience in a world that was based on self-preservation. In Joel’s mind, it was kill or be killed. And he always killed first. He learned not to take chances, hold out on good faith. It didn’t exist anymore.

And he didn’t just attack on his own behalf—he’s done it for you on a few occasions. You’ve never killed an infected, Joel always got the first hit in. Your knife would be at the ready, shaky in your grip and he would look over at you with dismay, knowing that if you did manage to have a shot you would ultimately miss. So, instead of coaching, he yanks the knife from your grip and plunges it into the skull of the infected. 

He hides his tendencies from Tommy well for a while—you always sensed Joel’s underlying itch for conflict after Sarah’s ultimate death and the few weeks you spend together on the road. You didn’t stay anywhere longer than a couple days, different cities throughout Texas as you made your way upstate. Utah, Boston, Pittsburg. Anywhere but here.

The early mornings in the forest after an uncomfortable sleeping arrangement—no rain meant sleeping in the bed of the truck or setting up camp in the one tent you had to share. But, when it did, the three of you would be forced to hunker down inside the four feet of truck cabin with nowhere to angle yourself but one of the brothers. Joel almost always shrugged you away, so by default, Tommy was the one you always chose. He didn’t seem to mind, thankfully.

Regardless, early mornings usually meant that Tommy would take his time teaching you a few things while Joel slept heavy in the truck, the low rumble of his snore heard as you both paused and Tommy readjusted the position of the knife in your grip.

“If you’re gonna hold it the way you gotta keep the dull side close to your arm,” He tightens your fist around the handle, “that way you ain’t accidentally cutting yourself with your own blade.”

You nod, squeezing down on your grip until it feels comfortable and Tommy leads your hand back toward you before guiding it through and back towards him slowly, “Always aim for the head on infected—right to the brain, kills ‘em instantly.”

You already knew that, but the reiterating is a nice reminder. 

Everything had a weakness.

“People,” Tommy starts hesitantly, “I mean, they’re livin’ and breathin’—if you let them close enough anywhere is gonna hurt them, but try to aim for the neck or the face.”

The stark image of Joel forcing the knife through the center of the man’s throat is heavy on your mind and Tommy pats on your arm as you lower it, but your eyes focus on his waist.

“Can you teach me how to shoot?”

Tommy looks at you wearily—not because he doesn’t trust you, but there’s something there.

“What happens if one of you is in trouble?” You ask him, pressing on the issue. “And I’m the only one who can do anything? I don’t even know how to shoot a gun. I’m not asking for everything, just enough to know. Tommy, come on.”

Tommy sighs, scratching at his slightly grown-out facial hair. It wasn’t nearly as thick as Joel’s, but it was clear you had all been deprived of basic hygiene over the last several weeks.

“Alright,” He relents, but holds up a finger at you, “Just the basics, for now.”

“I mean, Joel’s planning to drop me off at the nearest QZ anyways,” You joke, shoving your knife into the casing at your waist as Tommy pulls the gun out of where it’s tucked into the back of his jeans, “might as well learn as much as I can before then.”

“He won’t,” Tommy assures you, “we’re not abandoning you like that.”

You didn’t agree, but you push the words back down and take the gun that Tommy is offering as he comes to your side, arms coming around your back and around you. He’s positioning your fingers alongside his own and speaking over your shoulder and neither of you hear the car door that opens over your shoulder.

Within seconds the gun is being yanked from your grip and into Joel’s, his fingers dangling through the loop of the trigger and his eyes locked on his brother, “You lost your damn mind?”

Tommy snatches the gun back from his brother, tucking it away into his waistband.

“She’s got just as much reason to learn,” Tommy argues, “—I don’t see you makin’ an effort to teach her anything.”

“It’s not my problem,” Joel says dismissively, “we’re better off just doing the work ourselves. Kid can’t even kill an infected, she’s not gonna save your ass in a gunfight, either.”

The frustration in you boils, simmering over the edge as you push through both of them and toward the truck, closing the door with a slam as their angered voices muffle into the cabin of the truck.

“She’s not our problem, Tommy,” Joel tells him, “the sooner you realize that the better.”

“That why you plan on droppin’ her off on the doorstep of the first QZ we stumble into?”

There’s a long beat of silence before Joel speaks, “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Tommy answers, his voice laced with smugness that even you could hear, “she’s already got it set in her mind that you will and you know what—don’t blame her, either.”

Eventually, the argument settles. It’s abrupt and both of them sandwich next to you in silence as Tommy follows the path back to the road, his fingers drumming quietly against the steering wheel. But, you can feel the charge of Joel’s frustration as his fingers twist around each other. You tune it out eventually, the silence drowned out by the low hum of a cassette tape that was playing a song you had heard a thousand times by now.

You knew your own weakness was hope and it was dwindling every day.

-

By Denver, you’re all irritable. Eleven hours cramped in a truck on days of very little sleep and small scraps of meals you’ve made stretch for weeks. All the tension, arguing, and frustrations comes to a head when you stumble upon an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town, close to the mountains and secluded. It was perfect. 

There was a large, brushy forest to hunt and it was right beside a stream. You knew it was better than nothing and that the three of you could make it work for a time—the only problem, it was already occupied.

“Stay in the truck,” Joel orders to you, cocking his gun in his lap before he’s stuffing it back into his jeans and nodding at Tommy to follow. You almost expect him to argue, but he doesn’t. He follows, like a dutiful little brother as they both stalk toward the cabin calmly.

It was one car, clearly hot-wired and stolen alongside its broken windows.

It was clear that whoever was in the cabin wasn’t the original owners either, spotting the pile of dead infected burned to a crisp beside a stack of logs that you assumed were to keep the fire burning inside the house, watching as the black smoke creeped out of the chimney.

The minutes that pass feel like an hour and you begin to wander if they both decided to keep going, abandon you and try their chances down the stretch of highway without you.

You scoot into the driver’s seat and open the door, stepping out carefully as they muddy ground causes you to slip until you regain traction and as you close the door you hear it—a loud crash, a scuffle, and then Tommy’s voice alongside Joel’s.

You run in without thinking, crashing through the slightly open door to find them both with their arms around the neck of two other men, the strangers your eyes set on are already fading. They claw, scramble for air but they’re losing. Joel slams the butt of his gun into the back of the head of the guy he’s holding before they’re both twisting at their necks in unison, the signifying crack louder than the bodies as they hit the ground.

It isn’t shocking as it should be, having seen so many people on the other end of Joel’s violence—but for Tommy, the guilt of you having to witness that is immediate.

“Kiddo, I’m sorry,” He approaches, his hands out in front of him—he was approaching you the same way he had on outbreak day, timid and careful, “you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

You glance at Joel briefly who’s gun drops to the floor behind him as he heaves the dead man up in his arms and drags him out the back door of the cabin, there’s a subtle shake to his head at Tommy’s words that makes your ears ring, drowning out his profuse apologies.

“It’s us or them, right?”

It cuts off his line of speech and his eyebrows raise slightly, “What?”

“Us or them—I’m always going to choose us, for as long as that is. Joel would too.”

Suddenly he realizes that his justifying is naut as Joel rounds the corner and continues to drag the other body out before he’s joining you both in silence as he rubs his hands against his jacket.

“Alright, uh—I want you both to settle in here, try and make it more homey for the time being. I’m gonna drive into town and see what supplies I can scavenge, should be back by nightfall.”

“I’ll come with you,” Joel adds, but Tommy stops him.

“No,” He tells his brother, a quick shake of his head, “stay here with her, get another fire going.”

And for once, Joel listens to his younger brother. His tongue is poking at his cheek as he looks away with a begrudging annoyance as he stalks toward the fireplace.

“Keep an eye on him,” Tommy whispers to you, “alright?”

You nod and smile at the gentle squeeze to your bicep that Tommy offers as he departs.

When he’s gone, the silence is deafening. Joel’s gun was still on the floor, somehow forgotten by the man who never let anything slip past him, always on guard, always ready to attack.

His back is turned when you pick up the gun, the deafening click making his head turn on a swivel.

-

He’s on you in seconds, standing from his crouched position but you were quicker, stuffing the gun behind your back with a faint smile, taking a few steps away.

“Give it to me,” Joel commands, palm extended in waiting.

“Not like you to leave stuff layin’ around,” you comment jestingly, “I think I’ll keep it for a bit.”

He stalks, heavy footsteps against the hardwood floor as you retreat further and further until you’ve ultimately cornered yourself and Joel lunges for it behind your back but you take the opportunity to sweep under his arm and slip from his grip, dangling the gun from the grip of it with two fingers.

“What? You don’t trust me with it?” you taunt, “Think I’m gonna shoot you, don’t you?”

“I’m not askin’ again,” He charges and despite your quick reflex his hand is on your wrist first, the other coming around your neck as he presses you against the back of an old, dusty couch. It creaks under your weight and sends a cloud of dust up with the movement, “drop it.”

“Say it to my face,” you retort behind a strangled tone, feeling the heavy pressure of his thick fingers around your throat, tilting your chin up at his face where he towers over you, “say it and I’ll go—you won’t see me again, hear from me. I won’t be your responsibility anymore.”

Joel shakes your wrist and squeezes and the gun drops, clattering against the floor but he doesn’t let go, not yet.

“You’ll die out there.”

You squint your eyes in disbelief, a soft laugh bubbling from your chest.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you repeat that to Tommy a million times over the last few months.”

You pull at his grip but find that it only tightens, your fingers clawing at the hand around your throat, his fingers tucked under your jaw as it pulls your chin up and up, nearly touching his chest with how close he is to you now, your feet scrambling slightly underneath your for proper footing as you leaned against the couch. 

You speak again, hoping to crawl under his skin and make him uneasy, bothered.

“What? Sudden change of heart?” you ask, “Suddenly I’m worth protecting? Tommy would love to know about the handful of men you’ve killed in my honor, you know?”

Joel’s face twitches at that, his eyes dragging toward the gun on the floor—that was your window.

You force your knees up and into his stomach, shoving him away as he stumbles but the feeling of his arm coming around your abdomen has you squirming, turning and hitting him with weak, balled up fists that didn’t amount to half the strength he encompassed. It was barely a struggle for him.

Eventually you give up, waiting and waiting for him to let you go. His gaze is heavy, almost curious in the way he watches you go through the stages of resistance to acceptance and then finally giving up before your eyes are peering up at him, pressed against him at every point of contact, the cold metal of his belt buckle digging into your stomach.

“You’re stuck with me and I’m sorry,” you tell him out of desperation, “I just want to learn and you could teach—”

It takes you a second to process when his lips press against yours, a biting kiss that is forceful and startling, gasping into his mouth at the action but your body reacts instinctively, arms wrapping around his neck and hands fisting into his hair, the subtle essence of salt and pepper that was only noticeable this close. Joel groans softly, the first true and honest sound that has come from him all evening.

“Irritating,” Joel speaks against your lips, mumbled as he leads you, bumping your legs against the arm of the couch before you’re both tumbling over, “—do you ever fuckin’ shut up?”

He’s coined you vexatious in his own mind, not realizing how impossible he was to be around either—stubborn, impossible. An unmoving force of rigidness, but here he was—pliable to the fingers that slip under his shirt as he settles between your open legs, his own pulling at the button of your jeans.

You don’t need words, knowing that you both have communicated off eye contact at a level that was never spoken about but just worked. It clicked and when he pushed, you gave into the blow.

Silently you work alongside his own hands, pushing your jeans down and off. You kick them to the floor, working at your underwear while he undoes his own jeans, feeling like you were both working against the clock with your heart hammering in your chest. He was eager, impatient—still Joel, but it was a new look. It was the dynamic that, for you, felt like the missing piece.

Weeks of constant bickering and side-eyed glances all boiling down to one break in his mulish personality, this was the resolve.

The warm touch of his palm against your upper thighs pull your attention to him and he breathes out harshly through his nostrils, his jeans shoved down his thighs and his free hand palming himself over his underwear, squeezing at your skin as he offers only one word in acknowledgement. A question.

“Yeah?”

You nod shakily, answering with a soft, “Yes.”

-

There is no build-up, no gentle touching that leads to soft caresses as Joel presses himself inside of you. His hand is gripping the arm of the couch above your head as he grips himself at the base of his cock before he’s pushing in with one solid jerk of his hips, a hurried and desperate movement to bury himself inside of you. Your fingers pull at the hair by his nape and he grunts, head pulling back as he snapped his hips back and pushed into you again, sharp and angered. His jaw was tense, the subtle peek of teeth bared behind his lips

It’s a harsh disjunction; a man you would watch from your window on weekends as he spent mornings chasing Sarah out in the lawn—softer, happier. Her protector.

With reluctance, he’s become your own. Whether he would admit it aloud or not, he knows. But, it isn’t the same—you were extra baggage, a burden, but one he felt chained too. And more importantly, distraction.

You could see his humanity slipping week by week, a dull shell of himself most days. He won’t even look at you now, his eyes squeezed shut as he thrusts into you, your eyes dragging from his face to his cock, your hand traveling down to fist at his shirt, dragging it up his stomach. 

The dark, coarse hair at the base of his cock traveled up his stomach, across his thighs. Big, strong thighs that held your legs apart and the thickness of him ached, stretched you open after months of unintentional celibacy forcing you to grip him tight, wincing with every continuous snap of his hips, feeling a hand come around to cup the back of your head, cradling it as his forehead drops and presses against your own, blocking your line of sight and forcing your eyes closed. Just feel, he’s trying to convey. Don’t think.

And it works, lingering thoughts fading away as pleasure bleeds in. His top lip grazing against the round part of your nose, his hot breath fanning over your mouth as he huffs and you moan against him, a soft and broken noise that only forces his grip to tighten against the back of your head and the other hand at your thigh, finger digging into the flesh so harshly that the ache would linger for days.

You feel the crest creeping up on you but it isn’t enough, slipping your fingers between your body silently, but the fingers around your wrist startle you, dragging you back to the surface and opening your eyes to his, his expression earnest but stoic.

“Don’t,” He shakes his head, “—just close your eyes, I got it.”

You can’t find the energy inside to argue, feeling the hand cradling your head circle around to the crown of your scalp, fingers digging into the hair and pulling taut, forcing your head back and then he’s touching you, two thick fingers circling your clit in time with his harsh, hurried thrusts.

You do close your eyes, feeling the soft tuft of his hair against the side of your face as buries himself there, his movements jerkier as his fingers work quickly, squeezing around him as your fingers dig into his forearm, hips working against his fingers instinctively to search out more and more until you’re tipping over the cliff and free-falling, coming with a soft gasp as he pulls away suddenly, fisting his cock tightly as he came over your stomach, hastily shoving your shirt out of the way as he grunts quietly, his face pinched and completely unreadable when you do finally find the energy to look at him, eyes dragging toward the ceiling as you breathe and try to process what the fuck just happened.

There’s a distant rip of fabric somewhere to the right of you and far away, noticing that Joel’s already redressed when he approaches and wipes gently at the mess of cum dressed across your stomach, shoving your jeans back into your hand in the same movement. 

You look at him oddly, shuffling the jeans and underwear in your grip as you rise, eyes following as he moved around, started building the fire Tommy had told him about a half hour ago and is so glaringly ignoring what had transpired just now—you move quickly, redressing to avoid the judgment if he looked back and you were still staring.

And you notice the itch, the unavoidable twitch in his shoulders as he can’t settle with his movements, occupying himself to keep running on the clear adrenaline high he was on—he’d killed a man and immediately directed his frustration at you and used it as a means to stall, distract, satiate that monster dwelling inside him that always came out around you.

“So, can I leave now?” You ask him, his eyes peeking over his shoulder as he shoved a new pile of wood into the fireplace, “Are we finished?”

“You’re not leaving,” Joel tells you—you weren’t moving, weren’t planning to, but you wanted to see where the conversation would go, whether Joel would admit that he cared more than he let on, his emotions so stunted since Sarah that they came out in bouts of violence and rage, “I’d never hear the end of it.”

You offer a smug chuckle in response, “So, I was right. You don’t want me around.”

Joel turns on his knee, allowing you to see the remnants of flush in his cheeks, his messy hair and his response that rips a hole straight through your chest, “I’m stuck with you because Tommy wants you around.”

It wasn’t a direct answer, but you could read into it enough.

You glance over the back of the couch, wondering if the gun was still laying on the floor where Joel had squeezed it out of your grip, but the click to your right has you turning in an instant, staring down the barrel of Joel’s gun.

“You got a lot to learn,” Your glare is less than impressed as it lands on him, petulant and annoyed, “Don’t ever touch my gun again, alright?”

“Oh,” you respond airily, an impish smile creeping onto your face as you tilted your head slightly, “so—you fucked me as punishment or because of some silly little fantasy you've always had of fucking your neighbors daughter?”

And to your surprise, Joel's response is less angered.

“You could do with a little punishment,” He rises on his knees, pocketing the gun back in his jeans, and smirking at your dumb-founded expression, “—couldn’t you?”

Joel approaches closer, motioning with his fingers for you to stand and without thinking, you follow. His subtle smirk grows wider and he’s reaching for the forgotten knife on the floor, having fallen off your pants in the midst of your hurried undressing.

“I ain’t here to teach—I’m keepin’ us alive. The sooner you learn to shut up and follow, the better,” He reaches for your hand, placing the knife into your open palm, “and you kissed back, so that look on your face, that regret—”

“Who said there was regret?”

Joel’s eyes stick to you, meeting yours fiercely for a moment as you take the knife from him and reattach it to the loop on your jeans. His tongue licks at his bottom lip briefly, watching the subtle grin spread across your face.

Your words were a challenge. 

And for you, that meant game on. 

-

dividers creds: @/saradika-graphics

[existentialgaybirdnerd]

Sleep-Deprived Sarcasm

Ghost is an asshole.

Everyone knows this, everyone thinks this.

Ghost is an asshole in ways that many don't really stop to appreciate. Because he may be an asshole, but he's not mean in a way that actually hurts anyone.

He'll casually call someone a dumbass if they did something stupid. He'll find solace in smacking a particularly close teammate over the head after a dumb stunt (Soap) or berating them until their ears are ringing for saying something stupid in front of a superior officer or someone interrogating them (Gaz).

He's an asshole, but he's loving about it in ways those who aren't close to him don't see.

Can't see.

It's a privilege to be able to hear when Ghost is sarcastic. People will hear stories around the base of him being incredibly sarcastic to Soap or Captain Price.

Soap brags about being able to get him to ask the invisible audience what he's won when Soap himself says something particularly dumb in front of him.

Price once told a funny story that no one actually believes where Ghost, high on the exhaustion of a mission gone sour and 4 days of minimal sleep, asks where he should house the high horse a particularly nasty unnamed superior rode in on during a debrief.

Everyone knows Ghost is an asshole. No one except the 141 sees when that asshole tendency turns soft and pointed and trusting. No one but them knows how deeply gratifying it is to see him dropping his guard and actually saying something disrespectful in front of them, showing a little bit of his Simon Riley attitude and personality rather than the forced blankness that "Ghost" is supposed to personify.

The first time Gaz saw him drop his guard, he cried.

According to Soap anyway.

It had been a time when everyone was getting eyed for their actions, after a stressful but successful mission, by their superiors.

Ghost had obviously had enough of the people breathing down their necks and sending them on pointless missions to "see if [taskforce 141] are good enough to keep on." The entire taskforce was put into question and none of them had gotten a good night's sleep in about a week between all of the debriefs, training, missions, and pointless lectures about being "the face of the military" (bullshit if you ask any one of them, especially the one in the mask) and it was getting on their nerves.

Ghost wasn't one to show his anger much when he was meant to be Ghost unless he deemed that it benefitted them, made the enemies or even allies nervous, and made them listen.

So seeing him overly sarcastic and willing to be directly disrespectful? It's a rite of passage.

It happened in the kitchen at 0300.

Gaz and Soap are shooting the shit getting some coffee to wind down and talking about how horrible the breath of their "borrowed" commander is when Ghost walks in wearing civvies and his usual hard skull balaclava.

"You look tired, Ghost" Gaz decides to comment, seeing the slouch in the taller man's shoulders that he wouldn't normally be able to see.

In the heaviest "no shit" voice he seems to be able to muster, Ghost looks him dead in the eye, holds a pretend microphone to Soap and says "He got the right answer, give the man a prize! What did he win Johnny Boy?"

Between one blink and the next, Soap making a choking noise like a dying cat and proceeding to double over forwards to laugh into his knees, and Gaz staring at Ghost like he had lost his mind, Ghost grabs a mug and starts making tea with more sugar than necessary.

When he walks out, taking the tea with him and cursing the universe for "dumbass shithead commanders," Gaz has to sit down as Soap tries to catch his breath, finally able to control himself now that Ghost isn't there looking like a puppy just woken up from a particularly hard nap despite none of them having gotten sleep in the past 24 hours.

It started happening more frequently from there.

Gaz would say something obvious on particularly hard days, days where they were all exhausted and wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep but couldn't because of various dealings with higher-ups or responsibilities, and Ghost would hand either Soap or Price a microphone and be sarcastic.

He tries saying the dumbest things he can to start longer speeches, something he was told to do by Soap after finding out that the more sarcastic he gets, the more he rants about the topic. They eventually start timing the rants when he gets into it.

The winner so far is a minute and a half to Soap for getting him to rant about fall and leaves. They don't remember how that started.

In one memorable instance, Price says something stupid. Ghost, being half asleep at the table while they all wait for some superiors to get there for a meeting, hands Gaz the microphone and sasses Price so hard Soap is choking on breath until the first superior enters 10 minutes later.

[fandomnerd9602]

Jealousy

Actress!Wanda x Stunt!Reader

Everything was going well for you, a simple stunt person, a fall guy, and your girlfriend, the world famous Wanda Maximoff. Or so you thought.

You lost her once and you thank the heavens that she allowed you back into her life. You’ve loved her so fiercely, making the most of this new chance at happiness and romance. And then she came in.

Yelena Belova. The movie industry’s most renowned stunt woman. Yelena was hired to be Wanda’s stunt double on the film.

You knew Yelena. You had gone to the same stunt school, even were partners in some of the stunt exercises. Seeing her again was great, it was like seeing your best friend again after years apart.

And it drove Wanda insane with jealousy. You and Yelena seemed to click on so many levels that Wanda didn’t. You’d go over stunt techniques and slang with Yelena like it was a hidden language or something.

Wanda walked by one evening to see you and Yelena laughing about some stunt that she had to pull off tomorrow. Yelena put a hand on your shoulder.

Wanda was fuming. That shoulder of yours belonged to her. She found herself marching over to you, ready to put a stop to this.

You were hers. And if you were two timing or anything, Wanda was gonna have your head. Did the good times mean nothing?

Yelena locked eyes with her and immediately smiled.

“Looks like you’re needed, lovebird” Yelena points you to Wanda. “I’ll talk to you later”

Yelena gave a thumbs up and left. Wanda stopped dead in her tracks in utter confusion.

“Alright Lena, say hi to Kate for me” you called out to the blonde stuntwoman.

“Kate? Who’s Kate?” Wanda found herself asking.

“Her girlfriend” you shrugged. “Oh no…were you…jealous?”

Wanda laughed nervously, “no! How could i? Yes. I-I was.”

You let out a little laugh and pulled her close by her hips, “baby I lost you once. I would never do anything to lose you again.”

“That’s a big statement there, fall guy” she smirked at you with a little nose scrunch.

“Well superstar, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you gently caress her face. “You’re the only woman I have and ever will love”

“Kiss me already” she cries as you gently pull her lips towards yours. The sparks the electricity. Wanda knew she was home.

Yeah it’s never easy, the romance between an actress and a fall guy. But what else can be said? You and Wanda have a love that bigger than all the stars in Hollywood.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7

[cxtori]

Osamu Dazai ✮ Reckless (Fluff Version)

summary: you vent your frustrations to Dazai after the crazy stunt he pulled with Fyodor

genre: fluff, cleaning up Dazai's wounds

wc:820

warnings: n/a, slight Dead Apple spoilers

tori’s note: this is the same concept as the other one, just more lighthearted! Here's the angsty version if you missed it!

You frown as you examine the deep wound on Dazai’s back, the cut surrounded by red, swollen flesh. You groan internally as you reach for a cotton pad and soak it with antiseptic. Without warning, you press it against the man’s back.

“Owwie! That hurts, Y/n!” Dazai cries overdramatically, any pain in his voice covered by his teasing tone. Your face scrunches in annoyance, knowing he’s felt a lot worse pain than you cleaning a small cut. You glance over at the stab wound by his spine, a few stitches keeping the flesh bound together.

“Shut up! I’m still mad at you,” you huff, not showing the slightest bit of amusement. This seems to keep him quiet as he doesn’t make another sound as you continue to clean, aside from a muffled laugh.

You finish disinfecting the wound and move on to apply some antibiotic before placing a bandage over it all. 

You were pretty pissed off with him. His disappearing on you, working with an enemy, getting himself stabbed with a poison coated blade, and so on. 

You were used to his shenanigans. Afterall, it wasn’t the first time he’d disappeared for a couple days or so. It was so normal for him that the rest of the agency never bothered to question it.

You, however, were always concerned. You figured the least he could have given you was a heads up, though you know he wouldn’t have even if you’d asked.

You hated how he felt the need to do things on his own. You understood that his plan may have not gone so smoothly had others been made aware. But still. Did he really have to throw himself into such dangerous situations just to get the upper hand? Wouldn’t you be able to help him with something? 

Once done with his back, you move around to his front, forcing your eyes to not roll when you see the various scrapes and cuts scattered all over his body. 

“You are such an idiot, you know. Why do you have to be so careless?” You say quietly, more to yourself than to him. You ignore Dazai’s soft chuckle as you grab the antiseptic and another cotton pad.

Dazai watches you thoughtfully as you swipe the pad over the minor abrasions littering his skin, your face twisted in focus… or maybe it’s anger. Either way, he couldn’t pull his dark eyes away from you.

“I cannot believe you pulled that crazy stunt!” You say, your voice taking on the tone of a mother scolding her child. But you didn’t care. You were upset and you wanted him to know. “I was so worried when you disappeared! Don’t even get me started on how concerned Atsushi was. And then you just show up standing by Fyodor’s side?” 

Your gentle swiping devolves into more of a harsh rubbing as you continue to clean his cuts, but Dazai remains still, his attention focused more on your ranting than the stinging of his wounds. 

“You could have died! Had that dagger hit just an inch or two further to the right… well, you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s for sure.” You keep talking, letting the words of frustration that you’ve had bottled up flow out of your mouth. 

With your eyes trained on Dazai’s chest and collarbone, you don’t see his trained on you. His soft gaze studies your face that, while distorted by your strong emotions, he finds calming. A smile spreads unknowingly across his lips, his expression growing impossibly softer towards you.

It’s only when you realize he hasn’t said a single word that you look up at him, his eyes meeting with yours immediately. You pause.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, unable to read the expression on his face. He remains quiet, chocolate eyes studying you closely with a kind, amused smile. “I don’t know what you could possibly be smiling about but- mmph!” Your words are cut short as he quickly leans forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You almost drop the wet cotton in you hand as he nips gently at your lips, kissing you carefully, but so passionately at the same time. His hands snake around you, one gripping your hip and the other wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him.

Your mind fogs over and you almost forget what you were saying. He’s so obnoxiously good at changing the subject. Even so, you find you don’t really care as you melt further into him.

His tender lips pull from yours and you feel practically breathless as he places his forehead against yours.

“Aww, you were worried about little ole’ me?” He asks with a delighted, teasing laugh. You flush, embarrasment and some remaining anger heating your face. You huff and go back to cleaning his wounds.

“Whatever… Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“You and I both know it’ll definitely happen again.”

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate any of my works. reblogs are appreciated

[repulsiveliquidation]

don't let them hear.

Ona Batlle x Reader [SMUT!]

Warnings : daddy kink? I don’t know if people like that so this’ll be a little experiment lol. It’s got some demeaning words sprinkled in there, rough but loving sex (is that an oxymoron?), orgasm denial the works; we like being a little crazy around here.

word count : 3.8k of filth. you're welcome.

“That’s all for today girls! Good work! Let’s keep the energy up for the game this week, Sí?” Jonatan said loudly as the girls walked over to the drinks station. You grabbed Ona’s bottle and handed it to her before grabbing your own. You poured a little over your head and squirted the rest into your mouth, water cascading down your face to cool you down in the hot Barça sun.

You shook your head like a wet dog, water and sweat hitting Ona much to Ona’s annoyance, shouting Spanish curse words at you as you chuckled loudly with Kiera, walking back into the changing room.

“FUCK!”

It was suddenly cold, wet and unpleasant. Your jaw was wide open, you were soaked from head to toe. The whole team was laughing heartily as you wiped the water out of your eyes and looked up. There stood Ona and Pina, holding the huge cooler over your head with large grins on their faces. You chuckled darkly, Ona’s eyes realizing what your face meant; she’d seen that look one too many times and every single time ended badly for her. Pina was still grinning widely, not knowing the level of trouble she was in.

You grabbed Pina just as Ona ran away yelling, you held Pina in a head lock and yelled for Lucy to give you her bottle as you emptied it over Pina’s head. The whole team was now clutching their stomachs from the laughter; Mapi was rolling on the floor while Alexia was desperately trying to catch her breath.

You ran into of the changing room after Ona, Patri’s water bottle in your hand this time. She wasn’t there so you checked every room; she wasn’t in the physio room, the gym was empty, the meeting in the conference room was interrupted by a soaking wet player but still no Ona.

You walked back to the changing room feeling cold, you sat in your cubby and toed off your shoes. Most of the girls were still there, chatting and laughing; Graham asked you if you found Ona. You shook your head at her, laughing about how she’s dead when you got home though. You grabbed all your shower things, making a mental note to get Ona back when she eventually had to show up at the house. You smirked to yourself at what you could possibly do to her when she got home but your thoughts were rudely interrupted by a sweet singing voice you recognized coming loudly from the stall at the end. You grinned and made sure the coast was clear before stripping, pushing open the conveniently unlocked door and joining that familiar Spanish voice.

“Hola, mi niña.”

She screams, so far gone in her little concert that she didn’t hear you slip in with her. You grab her hands and look into her eyes, grinning before laughing at her trying to calm herself.

“I could have slipped, idiota!”

“I nearly got pneumonia from your little stunt earlier, we’re even.”

She scoffs, turning her back to you. You merely smile, wrapping your arms around her waist and stand under the warm water with her.

“Don’t be mad, baby.”

She doesn’t answer you.

“Darling.”

Nothing.

“Mi amor.”

She scoffs again. Spanish usually gets her to break. Stubborn girl.

“Literal love of my life.”

You know she smiles; you see her cheeks rise.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

“You’re childish though.”

“You love me.”

“Damn right baby girl.”

She turns in your arms, kissing you passionately. She melts against your lips, kissing you harder and harder. You grab her leg and hike it up, pressing your thigh between her legs. You kiss down her neck as she grinds down earnestly, moaning like a whore at the stimulation she gets. Your hand comes up to her neck, squeezing gently. You look deeply into her eyes, she looks at you with fucked out eyes. This was too easy.

Ona was LOUD. She did not hold back at home. You’ve fucked her everywhere possible in the house; you name it, we’ve fucked on it. (a/n I outwardly cackled at this line the moment I typed it i’m a writer and a comedian; but maybe it’s the mental health issues. oh well.) she was loud enough that everyone still in the changing room would be able to hear your little voyeuristic escapade. They would NEVER let you live that down.

“Do you want everyone to hear you?”

“N-No…”

“You’re moaning like you do.”

She bites her lip, hands resting on your shoulders. Your hand leaves her neck and she stops grinding, leaning into your arms. You hold her, tenderly kissing her forehead.

“Think you can be quiet while I have my way with you, beautiful? I’ll reward you when we get home.”

She nods softly, bringing her arms around your neck to cradle your head. You kiss her hard again, pulling her closer by her small waist. She whines, hips going back to grinding down on your thigh. She’s slick despite the water, the glide over your thigh is smooth and stimulating. Her face was buried in your neck as she got off, your hands kneading her ass.

“Need more…” she whimpered out, head peeking out from its current home of your neck.

“Demanding and cheeky, we are on a roll aren’t we angel?”

She bites her lip and blushes hard, nodding like the cheeky girl she’s being.

“You’re one lucky girl, my mouth is watering at the thought of devouring you darling.”

//

The shower probably wasn’t the safest place to have sex but your girl was being so enticing, you couldn’t help it. It was your job to keep her satisfied, no?

“Remember, you keep your whore of a mouth shut. We don’t want Mapi hearing you moaning for her to tease you for the rest of your life, do you?”

“No, Daddy.”

Your eyes go darker at the sudden use of that name. It was reserved as a special word that she was allowed to use when she wanted you to specifically USE her. She rarely did this; you could count on one hand the number of times she spent the night calling you Daddy.

“Good girl.”

You kneeled before her, kissing up her leg slowly. She held your head softly and watched your every move. She was desperate now; legs shaking a little even from the little stimulation you were giving her.

You hiked her leg over your shoulder, leaning in and licking a suggestive stripe over her clit. She was, like you said before, soaked despite being in the shower. She moaned but slapped a hand to her mouth the moment she did. You grinned maniacally.

“This is going to be very amusing, baby girl.”

She smiled nervously as she looked down at you, her hands returned to holding your head as you dove into her folds once again. She bit her lip at an attempt to keep herself quiet till the shower room door opened. In walked a few girls, you could tell from the amount of giggling. Ona looked mortified; you looked utterly amused.

She shook her head and tried to pull you back up but you relented, burying your head between her legs and began to eat her out like you were starving. You slurped and suckled and swiped, fingers digging into the muscular meat of her thighs. Your devouring was drowned out by the noisy shower but her whines and shaky breaths made it over the sound of the water. She heaved over, fist in her mouth to try and keep her whining to a minimum but it only pushed your head deeper her legs which you took to be a sign to continue. Harder.

Your fingers joined the party, the girls who came in were now singing loudly together much to Ona’s relief. She was panting now, your fingers curling up into her spot aggressively as she legs were starting to become jelly.

You curled your fingers just right, hitting that special spot that always made her the loudest. She let out a choked back gargled noise, her eyes popping out of her head and looking down at you. She wanted to die the moment the singing on the other end stopped.

“Ona, you good?” asked Patri, who knew she was in here.

She looked like she had seen a ghost. Your hands grip her thighs and you stand, you pull her against your chest from behind as your fingers frantically pump in and out of her.

“Answer her,” you growled into her ear.

“Yes, just g-got soap in my m-mouth.” Soap? Interesting choice of words there, Ona.

“No one makes that sound when you taste soap, Oni.” Ooh, hello Pina.

“W-Well, I d-do…” A third digit joins the party between her legs.

“Okay, weirdo. Try not to eat your soap, bien? It’s not on the approved diet.” Ha! Good one, Patri.

Roaring laughter erupted in the bathroom. They went back to singing, your fingers slipped out as you turned her around and kneeled again. You kissed her navel softly, rubbing her tense legs.

“Good girl, Ona.”

She keened, hands tangled in your hair as you hiked her leg back over your shoulder and resumed your five-star meal.

She was dripping, your three thick fingers entering her with satisfying ease. You fingered her deeply, pressing up into her sweet spot as she tried to keep her noisiness to a minimum. As your lips suckled on her swollen bud, she had leaned down and begged you to let her cum in your ear.

“Please, amor. I can’t hold it.”

“Wait,” you told her simply, fingers pressing her sweet spot harder. Your thumb rested on her clit and rubbed random patterns, your free hand caressing up her wonderfully tanned legs. You stood, cupping her cheek and kissing her as your hand was unrelenting.

She whined and begged against your lips, tears of frustration cascading down her cheeks. It blended with the slowly cooling water; you couldn’t tell until the kiss was a little salty.

“Tears this quick doll? Such a desperate girl, you are.”

Your hand was slow now, she was on the edge and you were feeling merciful yet your hands were teasing. Her hands gripped your wrist holding her face, eyes glazed over prettily. She only nodded frantically, a beautifully whiny “Please Daddy…” leaving her lips as your hand sped up again.

“Cum.”

“FUCK!” she yelled, squirting all over your lower half. She couldn’t have cared less that the girls totally would be able to put two and two together; this was the best orgasm of her life and she was not going to let them ruin it. At least not right now. She’ll face the consequences later. The crippling shame would be worth it. Hopefully.

Your hand inside her did not stop until she was begging you to. You pull away and grab her face to kiss her. She kisses back hungrily, tongues fighting each other for dominance. You pull away panting, cheeky grins plastered on both your faces.

“That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.”

“I love you. Dios mio, please do that again.”

“I certainly will, baby girl. When we get home, I am going to ruin you.”

She shudders, suddenly Mapi’s voice booms in the showers.

“You two are fucking in there aren’t you?”

“Fuck off, Mapi! I will tell Ingrid about that secret I’ve been hiding for you!”

“What is she talking about, elskling?”

“N-Nothing, mi vida. S-She’s talking out of her ass.”

//

The drive home was agonizingly long. Your hand gripped her thigh, thumb rubbing affectionately back and forth. She was picking at her cuticles, biting her lip softly.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Babe, we’ve had sex a million times at this point.”

“It is not a million! Your calmness it unfathomable; I just moaned in front of our teammates! Loudly! They know what I sound like when I come, bebita!”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem. They should thank me for blessing them with that gorgeous sound.”  

“You’re crazy.”

“Only for you, mi vida. Come on, we’re home. I’ve got some rewarding to do.”

//

Kit bags fall beside the coat stand near the front door. Your arms immediately pick Ona up, her arms go around your neck as you kiss her hard. You navigate through the house, dropping the little defender on the plush bedding. Her eyes are blown out, she’s panting and you’re pretty sure you’ve never been more in love with her. You give her a smile, one she returns. She’s beyond beautiful; she’s perfect in every way, shape or form.

“Undress for me, love.”

You switch places, sitting on the bed to watch her undress slowly. She really takes her time, pulling her shirt over her head, turning around to pull her shorts down her plump ass with feigned struggle. You remain stone faced, watching her completely unfazed. She furrows her eyebrows, pulling her long, brown hair into her signature messy bun (a/n which I have exhaustingly tried to do to no avail), nipples pebbled from the chilly room. She moves to climb into your lap, a little annoyed that you’re still dressed.

“What about you?” she asks, hands smoothing down your chest slowly. You merely smirk and hold her wrists, kissing her palms.

“I’m good, doll. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me.”

“But I wanna see you.”

“You saw me plenty in the shower earlier, angel.”

She pouts, crossing her arms in defiance. Your hands grab her strong thighs and lift her, throwing her back onto the bed.

“Darling, don’t be mad. I’ll give you what you want in due time. For now, let me adore my pretty girl hm? You’re my obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“There she is. Now, open those gorgeous legs for me please?”

She does; her folds shine before you. You lean in and push her legs back, she watches closely when you lean in and lick up her folds. She sighs softly, your tongue gliding through her wet clit slowly. She tastes sweet and tangy at the same time, frankly it’s your favorite taste in the world. It’s just so Ona.

She begins to squirm when your tongue starts to swirl around fast, hips pushing themselves into your face. You let her, she’s indirectly in charge today and you wanted to keep your promise; whatever she wanted you were going to give and more.

“Close D-Daddy…close please!” she begs, hands flying to your head to pull you into her core. Your tongue pushes itself into her opened up pussy, licking up her juices that flow freely out of her. You make eye contact with her and nod, tongue working overtime to push her over the edge.

She cums with a loud scream of your name, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. You pull away, not wanting to push her too far too quickly. You smile and pet her stomach, her abs rippling as she reaches for your hand to hold. You sit up and pull her into your lap, grinning at her dopey smile. You kiss her, lips smacking noisily when your hand slaps her ass and she yelps into your mouth. You give her a few hard pats, her head burying itself into your neck. She takes it well, your calloused hands caressing her smooth skin.

“Good girl, you came so well for me. My perfect girl.”

“Thank you Daddy,” she replied, kissing your jaw softly.

“Can I have another, cariño? I know you will sound so pretty when you give me another orgasm.”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“Hands and knees please, hermosa.”

She fumbles but gets there, arching her back down just how she knows you like. You climb off the bed and pull out her favorite strap, putting it on while she watches from the corner of her eye. You stroke it theatrically, throwing your head back to tease her. She whines deep in her throat, lip bitten raw in an effort to be a good girl she knew she had to be.

“Give me one more orgasm and I’ll let you have my cock, okay baby girl?”

She nods, not trusting her mouth.

“I need words, princess.”

“Yes Daddy, I’ll give you one more orgasm.”

You pull her apart and admire her; she’s puffy and her behind winks at you. You suck on a finger and slide it over her, she jolts when your nail grazes over her wrinkled backdoor. You find the lube and squirt a little over her ass, massaging it in gently. Your nails drag themselves over her silky skin, goosebumps appearing all over her. The tip of your finger teases her asshole, dipping just a little into her. She gasps and looks back at you, eyes glazed with a look of pure lust.

“Wanna see how good this can feel, my love?”

“I trust you.”

You swear your heart nearly comes out of your chest, you lean forward and give her forehead a soft kiss before lubing up a finger and pressing into her asshole slowly. She’s tight and a little tense.

“Ease on up, baby. I’ve got you.”

She visibly relaxes, asshole now sucking in your long index finger. She sighs, feeling overwhelmed a little from just one digit. You drag it out slowly, pouring a little more lube to slick her up. She lets you in easier this time, you feel her begin to open up and take it better.

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl Ona.”

She keens at the praise, hands gripping the bedsheets tightly. One finger becomes two, soon she has three long digits pumping into her second hole. The pleasure is unlike the pleasure from her pussy, she’s addicted and wishes you had tried it sooner.

“Think we can do both, my girl?”

“Yes Daddy…!” she answered too enthusiastically, a kiss on her ass earns her two fingers in her soaked and leaking pussy. You alternate your hands for her to chase her high; one goes in, the other goes out. She’s trembling, choked out moans loudly leaving her pretty lips.

“Oh, someone is enjoying this a lot, huh? You like your ass played with, Ona? You like both your slutty holes filled darling?”

“Yes Daddy, YES!”

“You think we should have done this sooner, angel? You mad at Daddy for not fucking both your fucking holes at the same time before?”

“FUCK! Yes, puh-please!” three fingers in, three fingers out.

“Are you gonna cum, mi vida? Gonna show Daddy how much you love having your cunt and ass filled to the brim?”

She doesn’t manage to answer you, her orgasm sneaks up on her and pounces; she squirts like earlier all over you and her. She’s having a full body orgasm; her tiny frame convulses and writhes in pleasure. Your hands remain unrelenting, pushing her into the realm of oversensitivity and pure sexual bliss. It was beautiful to watch.

She finally calms, your hands pull away to hold her. She’s panting harder now, looking up at you with adoration but you can tell she’s thinking.

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

“No one has ever done that to me before.”

You panic a little. “Did you not like it? Was it too much?”

She scrambled, albeit wobbly, into your arms, cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

“I don’t think anyone has ever loved me enough to give me that before. It was amazing.”

You relax, hands holding her impossibly small waist. “Do you still want my cock?”

“I deserve it, no?”

“Cheeky girl. How do you want it?”

“On my back like a slut.”

“Watch that mouth or I’ll really make you taste soap.”

She blushes, laying back slowly with her toned legs open. She even pulls them back for you, holding them wide open with both her opened up holes clenching around nothing and winking at you. You’ll fuck her ass another day, wanting to properly explore that realm of her goddess-esque body.

The toy gathers her pooling slick at the tip as you home, a soft sigh leaving your lips as your hips easily thrust into her with no resistance. She throws her head back, legs dropping to rest on your muscular legs. You pull them over your shoulder and pull her body closer, thrusting deeper into her core. She shifts and whines, lips crying out your name for the world to hear.

You lean down and go to town on her, hips slamming down to pound her into the bed. The harness gives you just enough stimulation to spur you on along with her, the angle giving both of you the stimulation you need to finish.

She suddenly grabs your face and smashes her lips to yours, kissing you hard and desperately. She whimpers and keens, abs flexing as she waits on your approval to let go. She knows your close too, your breaths uneven as you shakily whisper sweet nothings into her ear.

“P-Please let me cum, amor…” she begs for the nth time tonight, face scrunched up with pure bliss.

“Almost there, pretty girl. Just a little more and we can come together. Don’t you want that, sweet girl? Don’t you wanna come with Daddy?”

“Wan’ that, really wan’ that!” she nods and whines, legs shaking violently.

“Come for me, doll. Come all over my cock now.”

“Y/N!” she screams, gushing for the third time tonight. That’s certainly a personal best for Ona Batlle.

You come with her as promised, your own orgasm ripping through you hard. It was beyond heavenly, both of you falling forward and trying to catch your breath. You pull out and take the harness off, pulling Ona into your arms. She melts into them, grinning softly when you give her a wet kiss on the cheek.

“You did so well for me baby, such a good girl for me. My beautiful girl. Did you like that?”

“It was beyond amazing, bebé. Thank you.”

“Come on, let’s take a proper shower now.”

//

Showered for real now and cuddled in bed, you tease Ona about her little slip earlier in the showers.

“You’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

“I think I traumatized the girls.”

“Mapi is going to have a field day when we go to training tomorrow. That’s if she’s alive that is.”

“What secret did you keep for her anyway?”

"She got another cat.”

“Oh, she’s dead."

[nakedwilbur]

This was not supposed to happen to him. He was the notorious “Hitchhiker thief”, the outlaw who stripped his crying victims of everything down to their dignity and left them stark naked on the deserted country road to. But now his bad deeds had caught up with, and for once he found himself in same predicament as his victims.

It had started as every other day. He had been out on one of his usual routs searching for a new victim, using one of his old classics, “The exhausted wanderer”, where he dragged himself along the road looking half dead and collapsing to the ground when a car approached. The poor guy who where dumb enough to stop to help would be met with a gun in his face and would, after the usual pleading for mercy, finding himself stark naked at the side of the road, while the guy he thought he would be saving drove of in his car with all his belongings.

When he saw the expensive sports car approach, he thought he had struck gold. As planned, he pulled his old stunt and fell to the ground, and as predicted the car stopped and he heard footsteps approaching. But this time, however, it was he got the familiar feeling of cold steel against the back of his head and a voice saying “Don’t even think about it” before he manged to pull his own gun. When he got up from the ground with his hands behind his head as instructed, he saw that another car had stopped, and he found himself surrounded and outnumber by several angry looking and armed guys. As it turned out, several of his old victims was sick and tired of the police never being able to catch their assaulter and had taken the matter in their own hands. It had taken its time, but now it was finally time for their revenge.

When the group told him to start stripping, he thought that they only planned to leave him out there naked just like he had done to them. And as he pulled of his clothes, he was already planning his own revenge, memorising the faces of the guys, the license plates of the cars, and any names he heard mentioned. But he would soon find out that they had much more in store for him that just leaving him out there naked. When he was out of his clothes, he was pushed into one of the cars, and when they drove off, he learned what a deep hole he found himself in and how radical his life was about to change.

The group had not only tracked down the country roads he operated on, but completely mapped out his whole life. They knew the old shitty rented apartment he lived in, all about the storage rooms he rented for the stolen goods, they even knew about his secret hiding spaces out in the woods where he had dug down his stolen money. As they drove off with him, the rest of the group would go to work clearing everything out. All the stolen goods and money would be handed back to their rightful owners, the lease of his apartment would be cancelled, and the lock changed. And even if he didn’t have much money in the bank they would even, through some contacts, make sure that his bank accounts got frozen indefinitely. So, when he was pushed out of the car high up in the mountains, stark naked and with at least a day’s march to the nearest town, he was literally carrying all his belongings with him.

He had always expected to get caught one day and having to spend time in jail. But with all the stolen money and goods he had hidden around, he always thought he would have something to get out to. But now everything was gone. His old grandmother, bless here, had always tried to straighten him up and always told him that bad deeds never pay. He had never listened, of course, but as he sank to the ground with shaking legs, for real this time, and felt the cold ground against his naked ass he really wished he had.

[puniflash]

The Fall Guy

This movie has completely taken control over my existence, so here are the little things I love most about it, in no particular order.

The triple meaning of the title.

Colt not just being the fall guy in the sense of the stunt community, but also (almost) taking the fall for Henry's murder, and falling in love with Jody so deeply he'd basically die for her.

This is so cool, and I love the english language for it.

(Also, the little fall guy in the A? Perfection.)

The long shots.

My love for one-ers is just as big as Jody's, I guess.

The opening sequence is just so perfect.

Introducing the main characters, establishing Colt's and Jody's relationship and setting high stakes from the beginning with that stunt gone wrong.

This long shot shows you exactly what kind of movie you're gonna watch, and it's probably one of my favourite opening sequences in a movie ever.

This one is so perfect, too.

Jody trying to come up with answers for everyone, and keeping everything under control amuses me and stresses me out in equal messure.

And talking from the little personal experience I have, this sequence (and the whole movie for that matter) captures the work on set so accurately. It's truly amazing.

Long shots like this take so much time and effort to coordinate, and I just love, and appreciate it so much when movies do that. It's so impressive, and so fun to watch.

The prayer hands emoji.

Tom sending Colt nothing more than a prayer hands emoji because he just doesn't care about his well-being at all.

(I mean, he is in fact responsible for Colt's accident, so it's savage but not surprising.)

And then Colt giving that prick at his valet job the exact gesture because the guy acts like an asshole, and Colt couldn't care less about his crispy fiver.

Gold.

The script credits.

This is genius, and I love everything about it!

When you pause the movie and read everthing, you can see there are actual excerpts from the movie script, just a little modified, to fit the credits.

When I saw this for the first time it totally caught me by surprise, and now it is everything I never knew I needed.

This entire conversation.

Jody asking: "Did you fall?" is so ironic, I wanna scream.

Girl, of course he fell. FOR YOU!

And Colt is so high on whatever kind of drug they spiked his drink with, it's so endlessly funny to me.

Plus the way he just can't stop himself from telling Jody how beautiful she is over and over again, while completely ignoring her concern about his wounds.

Not to mention the extended version of this with that sponge bath discussion.

(Haven't seen the extendet cut yet but saw the scene on YouTube a milion times. I die everytime for multiple reasons.)

I could watch a whole movie of them just having a conversation like this.

Bonus:

Everytime I watch this I end up questioning my sanity, cause I feel like he spontaneously gets me pregnant with whatever it is he does here.

Every. Single. Time.

The way his eyes move from her eyes to her lips?

How Jody didn't just lose her mind, and all ability to breathe right then and there is beyond me.

Split Screen.

Another conversation that is just perfect in it's entirety.

The split screen opening exactly on the middle line of that shelf in the backround is satisfying me in a way that should put me in a mental facility.

Colt and Jody being so in sync and mirroring each other during this whole conversation, even after being apart for like 18 months is so special to me.

Colt knowing her favourite movies?

Their love for each other really is a different kind of epic.

The music matching the movie.

This is pure perfection, and I will never shut up about it.

The bottle equals the promise.

The container is turning around in an uncontrollable spin.

Also:

The Song "Dead Guy On Ice" from the original soundtrack is playing right when Colt says this to Gail on the phone.

Also, also:

"I was made for loving you" being woven into so many songs of the original soundtrack, and returning over and over throughout the whole movie in different ways.

It gives me James Bond vibes, and that just makes my heart smile.

I could go on and on about how much joy this sparks in me, everytime I watch the movie. It never fails to make me smile.

Jean Claude.

Nothing to add here, he's such a bon garçon.

Also, the fact that Colt and Jody just keep him after the happenings of the film, is probably my favourite thing ever.

(And I never knew I needed to hear Ryan Gosling speak french, but apparently it's something my body and soul desired very much.)

The post-it notes.

I am OBSESSED with this. Literally the most relatable thing about Tom Ryder. I love using post-it notes for all kinds of stuff when my brain gets overwhelmed, so this is just too real.

"FIRE MASSUSE"

"PRETEND YOU WENT TO JULLIARD"

"next role: paramedic vampire"

"is it MOMOA or MAMOA"

These are cracking me up so hard, I can't.

The cockroach story.

This seriously isn't talked about enough.

Right when I thought I couldn't fall any deeper for Colt's and Jody's relationship, they hit me with this.

Just imagine Colt on all fours, trying to usher that coakroach out of the room, while Jody just sits on the bed, telling him to get it done because she wants to start their movie night.

The domesticity this story implies is killing me in the best way possible.

You're so uncoordinated.

Another thing we just don't talk about enough is this scene right at the beginning:

This is kinda blurry but he totally bumbs her head on that cabinet behind her, and all she does is laugh it off and tell him he's uncoordinated.

And I just love the thought of Colt being this super profesh stuntman, always double-checking everything to make sure it's safe to do the stunts and roll the cameras, but going back to being so adorably clumsy the second the adrenaline rush wears off.

I will never get over this.

That's my girl.

Colt reacting like this when Gail says "That's my girl." is everything to me.

It's so cute, and you know it's exactly what he thought as well, 'cause he is so freaking proud of Jody. It's just so perfect.

"You blew yourself up!"

Tom telling Colt he's supposed to be dead 'cause he blew himself up, then proceeding to blow himself up is amazing writing, and shows how much thought went into this whole thing.

This movie is so good at foreshadowing itself, and I can't get enough of it.

Bonus:

He gets three bars on his phone, and then there are three explosions errupting.

This is satisfying my brain on another level. I can't even put it into words.

Spicy margaritas

Yet another beautiful conversation, that comes full-circle in the end.

Just casually planning a trip to the beach in the middle of the film production chaos, I love that for them.

(The way Ryan says "spicy margarita" is a beautiful thing, that haunts my dreams in the best way possible.)

In conclusion

I love this movie with all my heart, and I could talk hours and hours about how amazing it is.

There's so much more I love about it, but it's just too much to fit it all in here, so these are just the small things that make it extra special for me.

Honerable mentions go to:

- Dan Tucker, master of movie quotes, and best friend Colt Seavers could ever ask for.

- Colt Seavers' coffee side quest.

- The movie lighting a Ryan Gosling sized fire under my ass, prompting me to forget about life, and get a new obsession.

[rafesapologist]

a request but if you don’t like it ignore:)

Rafe plays some kind of sport, (football??) and reader wears a jersey with someone else’s number?

🩷

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐣𝐨𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞

summary: you and rafe cameron have been together throughout the duration of college since meeting at a freshman seminar during your guys' first week attending university. you've stuck by your jock of a boyfriend consistently ever since, witnessing all the highs and lows of his athletic career while playing for your school's football team. it's now both of you twos senior year and your boyfriend's football season is drawing to a close, leading you to come up with the idea to play a prank on him in honor of his last game. with the help of his best friend, topper thornton, you come up with a devious scheme that you know will illicit a rise out of an unsuspecting rafe. it's finally saturday night and your school's team won their final game, now excitement was at an all time high and celebration was to be had. the night couldn't have gone any better, until rafe notices you wearing his best friend's jersey number instead of his.

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, violence, angry rafe

author's note: hii! thank you for the request :) your wish is my command mwah requests are open !

It was a picturesque, boisterous Saturday night just after your university's last game of the season had just wrapped up. A chorus of delirium erupted amongst the filled stadium once the final touchdown had been made, concluding the game and ruling that it was your boyfriend, Rafe's, team that had won. It didn't come as much of a shock to you as it did to everyone else when your boyfriend had been the one to score the last few points that won the team it's finishing game, due to the fact that Rafe was an exceptional athlete for as long as you could remember. However, despite your lack of surprise, you still felt a large quantity of enthusiasm following his accomplishment.

It had been an agreement amongst the football team and their girlfriends', you included, that had they won, there would be an afterparty at the Boneyard in order to celebrate. You had predicated ahead of time that the team would win regardless, so you took it upon yourself to end the season with a good, old-fashioned prank on you beloved partner, Rafe. As a way of doing so, you got in contact with Rafe's closest friend, Topper, to come together and plot the perfect stunt against him without his knowledge. The two of you came up with the idea that you would be showing up to the afterparty sporting an oversized football jersey with the catch being that the number written on it wouldn't be your boyfriend's, instead it would be his best friend's.

You were eager to show up at the Boneyard once the game was over just to be able to finally see Rafe face-to-face, even more to get his reaction once he realized you were wearing somebody else's jersey number. You ended up driving over to the location with a group of friends that you had arrived at the game with, making sure to text your boyfriend that you would be meeting up with him once you made it to the beach.

"Rafe is gonna kill you and Topper." One of your friends joked from the passenger seat as you neared your destination, shaking their head as they pictured the thought of Rafe's reaction once he saw what you had on.

"He wouldn't even raise his voice at me," you shrugged as you took a sip from the seltzer can that was in your hands, "but Topper, yeah he's dead." You stated, causing you and your friends to erupt in a fit of laughter throughout the car.

Impatience consumed you as you watched the car pull into the parking lot nearby before coming to a complete stop. You quickly hopped out of the vehicle and could see the flames of the bonfire that had been set up close by, telling you that you were close to where everyone else had been. You attempted to control your giggles and keep your composure while you treaded closer to the sight, feeling jitters in the pit of your stomach as Rafe and his teammates come into view.

"Hi baby." You greeted, your voice flowing with honey that was a sweet-surprise to Rafe's ears.

"Hey princess," Rafe welcomed as he turned to face you, his scleras coated a faint shade of red as the evidence of the alcohol in his system, "missed you." He murmured, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You basked in the way his lips felt against your skin as he opened you to his embrace, his free arm snaking over your shoulder to pull you into his side with glee.

"Ohh shit." Kelce interposed with his eyes glued to the jersey you were wearing. Immediately, you pressed your lips into a thin line in an attempt to conceal your laughter, silently praying that Rafe had not caught a glimpse of the expression written on your face.

"What?" Rafe catechized his friend for his sudden comment, looking over at the boy with confusion plastered on his features.

"Your girl is wearing Topper's number, bro." Another teammate added, gesturing to the large article of clothing you had on.

"What the fuck?" Your boyfriend remonstrated as his azure-shaded eyes surveyed your body, flickering over the numbers placed across the jersey. He observed the atypical digits, quickly recognizing them to have belonged to none other than his best friend. Fucking Topper.

Rafe's jaw began to clench, becoming noticeably tense and jut forwards at the slightest bit. You noticed that way his nostrils flared just before he took one last swig of the beer in his hands, throwing it on the grown with aggression after intaking the remaining liquid in the can. Your eyes widened, your jaw also falling open as you watched the provoked boy storm off in the direction of Topper as he stood obliviously with the crowd of individuals at the bonfire a few feet away.

"Rafe!" You shouted, trailing behind the long-legged boy as he stomped over in the direction of the cluster of people. Unfortunately for you though, your boyfriend was much faster and agile than you were, his long stature at his advantage when it came to getting places quicker.

Your efforts to gain Rafe's attention went unnoticed as he picked up speed. Panic set in as you spotted him place a hand on Topper's shoulder, swiftly turning him around to face him.

"Why the fuck is y/n wearing your jersey number? Did you fucking give it to her?" Rafe fumed, shoving Topper with enough force that caused him to stumble back a bit. Much to your boyfriend's surpise, the blond Kook simply laughed in return, his hands held up in the air in defense.

"I don't know how she got it bro. Must like me better or something." Topper mocked as he chuckled tauntingly, a clear attempt to get a rise out of the already seething boy.

"Don't fucking play with me right now, Topper. How. Did. She. Get. Your. Jersey." He demanded.

"You should ask your girl." The blond smirked with an ever-present smug look on his face, which of course, pissed Rafe off to no return. Without a second breath, you found yourself standing there frozen, simply a bystander in the midst of chaos as it began to ensue as your boyfriend remorselessly swung at Topper. You felt as if your eyes were nearly going to pop out of their sockets as you watched in disbelief at what had unfolded in just a few moments.

"Rafe, stop! It's a joke!" You cried out, but your voice went unheard.

"Dude, that's enough! She said it was a joke." One of your boyfriend's teammates interjected into the matter, grabbing Rafe's shoulders from behind and pulling him off the assaulted boy.

"You-Huh?" Rafe questioned breathlessly as he spun around to look at you, his eyes flickering between you and the person who had pulled him off of Topper.

"It was a prank," you admitted, sighing as your adrenaline started coming down, "for your last game. Topper and I came up with it together just to mess with you."

Rafe stared back at you with an unreadable expression on his face, seeming as though a thousand thoughts were scrambling through his mind in that very moment. His chest rose and fell heavily as he stood there, mouth agape. He shooked his head as he scratched the back of his neck before he turned back around to Topper who has in the middle of trying to pick himself up off of the ground.

"My bad, Top." Rafe mumbled quietly with his hand extended out for his friend to grab, to which he complied and held onto it as he lifted himself up.

Topper sighed, brushing the sand off of his body as he stood upright. "I guess now we know what happens when you fuck with Rafe's girlfriend." He noted.

Rafe chuckled in response as he nudged the blond headed boy, "They'd be dead."

"What are you saying about me?" You inquired as you approached the two boys. Rafe's focus immediately shifted to you, his eyes shooting over in your direction while you came up to him. You stood before him with your hands on your hips, a non-verbal communication that you were scolding him for his actions.

"Nothing baby, just that I'd kill anyone who touches you. That's all." Rafe smirked as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest, kissing the top of your head tenderly.

"It's not like I'd choose any of them over you," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso as you looked up at him yearningly, bliss twinkling in your eyes, "the dick is too good." You whispered, catching him entirely off guard. Rafe's first reaction was his eyes widening at your crude-humored comment, then switching to a deep chuckle as a smirk formed across his face while he looked down at you.

"All yours princess." Rafe attested with certainty, his glossy eyes gazing at you with a look you were all too familiar with. You felt butterflies float in your stomach under his lustful stare, realizing that the night was far from over.

"How about we go prove that on the beach over there?"

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 37

read on ao3! (173k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 2.6k

at last, we have reached the final chapter of 'a fragile line'! thank you so much for reading, I've had the best time writing this over the past year ❤️

I will also be writing an epilogue for this story and it'll be up soon - much love xxx

Juliet’s POV:

Juliet’s eyes blinked open to the sound of gentle snoring.

She allowed her head to roll to the side, following the sound, until she found its source: Joel Miller, the man she loved, the man who loved her, asleep in a chair beside her bed. He looked exhausted, the lines on his face were more pronounced and his jaw was clenched in a way that told Juliet he wasn’t truly resting. 

Juliet inhaled a slow aching breath as her gaze slid back to the ceiling. She wondered how long Joel had been sitting beside her, how long she had been looked after, and guilt threatened to swell in her chest.

Her thoughts were cut off when the door to her old bedroom opened and Ethan’s head snuck through the gap, his eyes widened when he saw that Juliet was awake and he pushed the door open further and stepped into the room. His steps were careful and quiet as his gaze darted to the man sleeping beside her and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Ethan rounded the bed and stopped beside her before he dropped silently into the other chair. Juliet turned to him, swallowing rough as she prepared herself for bad news.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Juliet inhaled a sharp breath and allowed herself to assess her injuries. Thanks to the medication Charlotte and Ethan had brought with them, the pain from her lost finger had settled to a dull ache which flared only when she moved it. The infection had cleared up too, and Juliet had woke with a feeling of renewed clarity in her mind, the fuzziness was gone. She glanced at Joel, her eyes skimming over his face and she watched for a moment as his chest rose and fell. Charlotte had treated his head and had been monitoring his concussion closely, Juliet had watched him squirm as Charlotte disinfected his wound and told him to take it easy.

Juliet remembered the sight of him in the basement and she flinched internally. 

She turned back to Ethan who was watching her with a curious, if not worried, expression.

“Better,” Juliet answered finally, her lips tilting upwards in an effort to convince him. 

Ethan nodded, then his gaze dropped to his hands.

“We need to get out of here,” he declared, looking up at her. “Matt’s been patrolling the town and, with John dead, the people who are left are scared and hungry. Your stunt with the bodies on the front porch has been working so far but we’re days if not hours away from a group of them gathering together and coming for us.”

Juliet’s heart jumped, and she moved to sit up.

“Okay,” she murmured, processing everything Ethan said. Juliet winced when she remembered herself dragging those bodies to the porch as a brutal, violent warning to the town not to mess with her. “Let’s go then, we have the horses you came here on, we can head back to Jackson just now.” 

Ethan blinked at her, then his eyes narrowed.

“Are you sure Jackson’s where you want to go?” he questioned, and Juliet couldn’t help but notice an edge to his tone.

She stared back at him, her head tilted to the side. “Of course I do, what do you mean?”

“Just making sure you’re not going to leave again,” he replied with a shrug as he straightened his spine. 

Juliet’s breath caught as guilt wrapped itself around her throat. She had explained to Ethan, when she first woke, why she left, why she had to return here. He had been shocked, he couldn’t really understand her decision to leave and Juliet wasn’t surprised as, despite everything that her friend had been through, he always knew who he was. Ethan was smart, caring and unwaveringly positive. 

He was the bright sky on a clear day, and Juliet was the dark cloud.

Her whole life, Juliet had been an empty space, a person who was hollow inside. Elijah had filled the cavity inside her with hatred and fear, and Juliet had believed that she had no choice but to be the person he moulded her to be: timid, scared… violent. Danny’s words had hollowed her out again, leaving her as another blank slate, ready to find out who she actually was - not who she was moulded to be.

Juliet turned to Joel, quickly running her eyes over his face. He would follow her anywhere, she knew he would.

She inhaled deeply as she thought about her time in Jackson: the twinkling lights in the mess hall, the Christmas tree she decorated with Ethan, the conversations she had with Charlotte, her patrols with Matt…

Juliet lay in her childhood bed, in the house she grew up in. But it was also the house where she was abused, the house where she was nearly killed, the house where Joel beat Elijah to death.

This wasn’t home, it never was. 

Juliet’s eyes met Ethan’s. “I don’t expect you to understand why I came back here,” she started, and reached out her good hand to clasp around his. Ethan’s eyes shot to her face. “You got me out of here years ago and I can never express to you how grateful I am for that. And then, when I came back, you almost got yourself killed to get me out again,” Juliet paused, blinking away tears that blurred her vision. “I know what it cost you both times, it’s a debt I can never repay.”

Juliet took another breath. “You’re angry at me for leaving Jackson, for coming back here.” 

Ethan shifted in his chair, but he didn’t let go of her hand. 

“I deserve it,” she murmured, then raised her chin, meeting Ethan’s eyes again. “But even when I left here there was some part of me that wanted to come back,” Juliet confessed, her heart pounding. “Charlotte said that I have PTSD, and maybe some variant of stockholm syndrome, whatever that is,” she shrugged. “I thought I was going to end up like him. He only ever taught me how to hate, not to love and I … I thought that maybe being away from here was only delaying the inevitable.”

Ethan squeezed her hand.

“So when I found out that… that I didn’t actually belong here, that I had parents and a life before this. Ethan, I’m sorry but I had to know if it was true.” 

Juliet looked around the room, her gaze settling on the handcuffs attached to the radiator behind Ethan. The horrors of her childhood threatened to rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

“My life was stolen from me, I know that now,” Juliet choked out. “I want to go back to Jackson, I want to make a life for myself, I want a home, I want…” she turned her head to look at Joel as he slept. “I was just surviving before, I want to live.”

Ethan huffed out a breath, then stood and enveloped her body in a tight, warm hug.

Juliet lifted her good hand to wrap around his back as the tears that had threatened her vision finally began to fall. 

“I understand,” Ethan murmured in her ear as he squeezed tighter, not willing to let go yet. “You aren’t Elijah, you aren’t what he did to you. You’re Juliet, you’re my best friend, and I love you.”

Juliet dropped her forehead to his shoulder as his words settled in the most hollow parts of her heart, taking root and healing some of the damage. 

“Thank you,” she murmured against his shirt. “Thank you for coming back here, for saving me again.” 

Ethan pulled back and looked down at her, his lips were curved into a soft smile. 

“You saved me, so I saved you. That’s how this works,” he said, then leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

Juliet’s eyes followed him as he moved back and stood, straightening his back as he ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were rimmed with red. 

“We’re leaving in an hour,” he announced in a thick voice. “Even with the horses, it’ll be a long journey so you should get ready.”

Juliet released a heavy, weighted sigh as she watched Ethan turn and walk out the door, then she allowed her head to drop back to her pillow. 

Ethan’s words had shifted something in her, she felt lighter, like he’d cut away some of the scar tissue that refused to let her heal.

“You alright?” a gruff voice asked from beside her.

Juliet’s heart jumped as she pushed herself up and turned, finding Joel sitting forward in his chair, hands clasped and his eyes locked on hers.

She nodded slowly. Juliet wasn’t okay yet, but she would be. 

Joel’s hand reached up before she could notice the movement, and his fingers trailed over her cheek, collecting the tears that stained her skin and replacing them with a scorching red flush. 

“How much of that did you hear?” she breathed, her heart was pounding at the feeling of his touch.

Joel leaned back, rolling his fingers together, examining her tears on his rougher skin. Then he tilted his head up towards her and lifted his shoulders slightly.

“Enough,” he revealed in his signature gravelly voice, still thick with sleep.

Juliet turned her head, embarrassed that Joel had witnessed such a raw conversation.

“Hey,” Joel said, capturing her attention with a firm grip on her arm. “Don't do that.”

Juliet blinked at him, suddenly unsure of his reaction. She waited for Joel to take back his words from the other night, to call her selfish and shame her for coming back here, for getting him hurt.

Instead, Joel’s grip on her arm loosened and she felt his thumb begin to glide across her skin in soft, soothing movements. He had moved forward in his chair, and Juliet’s head unconsciously moved towards him. 

Joel refused to break eye contact, he demanded her full attention as she watched his jaw clench and his pupils flare.

“Tell me it was worth it,” he demanded in a low voice. “Comin’ back here, gettin’ hurt. Tell me I didn’t make a mistake.”

Juliet’s breath caught in her throat as she digested Joel’s weighted words. She could see the guilt swimming in his eyes and the doubt hardening his expression.

Was it worth it? 

Juliet looked at Joel’s bloodstained skin, then her eyes dropped to her butchered hand, her stomach dropped at the sight. The truth cost a high price, and they had paid it.

Was it worth it? 

She considered the room she lay in. It used to terrify her, it was suffocating and reminded her how weak she was. Now, as she glanced at the peeling walls and the dampened ceiling, Juliet saw the house for what it really was: a prison that didn’t hold her anymore.

She’d gotten out. 

Was it worth it?

Juliet’s eyes found Joel’s again, they were searching. She knew that he was digging in, attempting to decode the thoughts inside her head. 

Before they’d left Jackson, Juliet was pretending. She thought that if she put on a good show, if she smiled and laughed when she was supposed to, and played the part of a happy, grateful survivor, that she’d eventually feel that way. But it wasn’t real. Juliet was broken, and hurt, and frightened. 

When Joel had left her that day in that cold, Juliet thought she deserved it. Of course, he didn’t want to be with her, how could he want someone like her? Someone stained with the hatred of her father. 

Now, when she looked at Joel, and recalled the words they whispered to each other in the dark, Juliet realised that she’d been wrong. This house hadn’t broken her, her father hadn’t broken her. She’d survived this town again.

Elijah had taken her childhood from her, he had taken the life she was supposed to have, and he had erased the person she was supposed to be. But he wasn’t going to take her future. 

It had taken her too long to realise it, and it had almost cost her her life.

But she knew now.

This house didn’t scare her anymore. She wasn’t trapped here anymore. This wasn’t supposed to be her life.

Was it worth it? 

Juliet felt the corners of her mouth stretch into a careful smile. She blinked up at the man beside her, watching for a moment as he scanned her face and his expression became more puzzled.

Then she nodded. 

“It was worth it,” she whispered, and watched as the line between his eyebrows smoothed and his eyes widened.

One day, Juliet would tell Joel what Danny revealed to her just before he died. She would tell him about her parents, and how they met their end. But just now, Juliet didn’t want to think about her past. 

With her good hand, Juliet pushed the blanket off and moved her legs to the side of the bed. Joel was there, gripping her arms, helping her to her feet, brushing the hair off her forehead.

Juliet’s hand found his face again, her fingers traced the scruff on his cheek.

“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened, for everything you’ve had to do because of me,” she breathed.

Joel’s breath caught and a muscle in his tight jaw jumped. He stared down at Juliet with a hardening expression. 

“I’d do it again,” he choked out, as his finger caught a wayward curl and tucked it behind her ear. Joel swallowed rough and cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, sending a shiver down Juliet’s spine. 

“If it meant I’d be here, with you. Juliet, I’d do it all again.”

Juliet released a heavy breath as his words washed over her. She thought about everything they had been through since that night she knocked on his door and her chest tightened. 

“I would too,” Juliet replied, and she truly meant it. 

After a long moment, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, more forcefully than she had intended and Juliet had to grip his shoulder to maintain her balance.

Joel’s grip on the back of her neck tightened as his head tilted to the side and deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue. His body shuddered with the feeling. 

Juliet responded in kind, and her good hand found his hair, pulling him towards her. She poured everything into the kiss, with her lips she told Joel how sorry she was, how grateful she felt, how terrified she was to lose him. Juliet wasn’t even surprised when she tasted the salt from her tears on his tongue.

Joel broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he pressed their foreheads together. Juliet could feel his heartbeat pounding against her own chest.

Juliet had always thought that home was a place, a trap, somewhere to run away from, to escape. But it wasn’t, and as she stood there in the house she had once called her home, Juliet realised how wrong she had been. 

Home was rough fingers smoothing her hair, home was the smell of smoke and pine, home was harsh commands and soft words in the dark. Home was a feeling deep in her chest, filling the hollowness, healing her scars.

Home was nothing like she could ever have imagined, and as she felt Joel’s hot breath burn her skin and his lips meet hers while his groan reverberated through their bodies, she knew that this was it, and that it was real.

Juliet traced his skin with her trembling finger and pulled back enough to meet Joel’s near black eyes.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered, and for the first time, the word didn’t leave a bitter taste in her mouth. 

Joel held her in his dark gaze for a long moment, just watching her, until his eyes fell closed and his lips met her hairline.

“Home,” he murmured.

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@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx @elli3williams

[phenomenalgirl9]

Jungkook x Reader: I loved you so bad

Summary: This is Part 2 of Lost You, you will surely keep the baby, but what of you and him?

A/n: don't cancel me, I'm very nervous about this part. I just wrote Lost you thinking nobody will read and poured out feelings in it. Even this one is filled with feelings. I really hope you guys liked it.

W/c: a lil more than 2k

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You sat on the floor in front of the bed in the spare room that Jimin and Chan like to call Y/n's Room. You were staring into the blank wall, the gamjajeon that Jimin had made for you long forgotten. A single tear left your eye and you didn't even realise, not until you heard Jimin calling for you and you quickly wiped it away. "Someone's here to see you," he said. "I don't-" you started but he just nodded his head and heard footsteps the next moment. You put your head down only to be engulfed in a  warm hug, more like the person enveloping you. You looked up to see Mingyu, his always cheerful face had bo spec of joy.

"What happened to us?" Was the first thing he psaid as he looked at you, his eyes filling with tears as well. "Mingyu-" you were interrupted before you could say anything. "I'm gonna divorce her" he said, and you went stunt. He continued "she tried to get all my assets under her name, even company shares! She's a sneaky b-" he stopped himself. "I realise why you, Jihyo and Chan were so hostile towards her. I'm so sorry! It's all too late now" and with this he broke down and this time you rushed over to hug him. He hugged you tight as well and said "I'm so sorry for unloading on you and for everything that happened" he said. "Jungkook fucked up, but that's not your fault. Let's not dig dead birds" you said and wiped his eyes and sat down. "What did you think of doing?" He asked and you looked at him confused, he looked towards your stomach and then to your eyes. "It's my baby, I'm keeping it regardless" you said. He smiled his cheeky boyish smile "you're gonna be a great mom" he said.

"Well you'd be a greater mom if you'd leave the house" you heard and turned to see Chan at the door of the room "Come to the office, there's so much left for you to do" he said and you smiled and nodded, Jimin appeared from behind him and cheered. These two have been dating for two years after Jimin became your assistant. You phone rang and you looked at it to see your mom's number, you silenced it and looked back to find surprised faces, as your mother and you were very close and it was unlikely you would not receive her call. "She keeps telling be to either abbot the baby or give it away. I will not, I can manage" you said firmly. "You're not alone, you have uncles," Chan said, making you laugh. Suddenly you heard another voice saying "and aunty", as Jihyo appears and rushes to hug you. "I'm going to break that fucker's face Chanie is coming with me" she said and you all laughed. You all missed this, this laughter had been long gone, you all came down all together to meet and talk. Minji would generally be gatekeeping Mingyu and Jungkook barely cared. You all missed what it used to be like. Mingyu joined your hug and so did Chan. "Jimin get here" you mumbled and he was included in your group hug. 

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You looked up through the glass of your office to find Jimin standing and talking to a very known figure. The person saying something and Jimin vigorously shaking his head a no and guarding his way. You sighed and walked out, as soon as his eyes trailed on you you almost saw a gleam in his eyes. May be you were imagining it you thought laughing internally. "Office hours are for official purposes only. If there's no official requirement, then leave" you said and were about to turn around and leave. When he called out "you did not renew the contract. It was signed by our fathers" he said. You clenched your fists and turned and said "I made a new contract, as far as the old one concerns my father has passed away and in no way would discourage me to not improve the company stardards because of sentiments. Now if you'll excuse me Mr Jeon, Jimin meet me inside for a minute please" you said and walked back to your cabin smiling at the person you were having a meeting with and apologized for leaving. You quickly wrote a note and handed it to Jimin and motioned towards Jungkook who just kept looking at you through the glass.

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Jungkook stood there talking to Jimin asking him yet again to let him see Y/n just once. Jimin never opened the door for him when Jungkook had gone to their apartment to meet Y/n. And he was failing here as well, he couldn't make a scene here, he can't let things get worse. As he spoke to Jimin he watched how you takked an interacted to who seemed like your new business associate. Sitting on that chair was no other than Min Yoongi, no way you were having business with him, Yoongi was your senior back in high school and in college as well and he made it very clear back then that he liked you. You even went to senior year prom with Yoongi, as he had gine with Minji. 

He remembered the way Y/n's eyes looked at him over Yoongi's shoulder when he was dancing with Minji. Suddenly, you stood up and walked outside. You refused to look at him at first but later when you did your eyes looked dead at him, unlikely of how you looked at Yoongi or even Jimin. 

Once Jimin came out after talking to you he handed Jungkook a note. 

"Company cafe 12:30 pm, 15 minutes" 

He looked towards his watch and found he had to wait an hour, so he did. 

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"Seriously Y/n I thought you were better than this" Yoongi said, "I thought so too, I've just been dumb" you said. "Doesn't mean you have to stay dumb and keep on hurting yourself" he said.

"We're here for thr business, Yoongi" you told him. "Then come out on a dinner with me where there will be no business talk" he said, the weight of his look was too much so you dropped your gaze. You shouldn't have, because you noticed the way his dress shirt hugged his body and his now, broad shouders. His veiny hands that rested together on the table along with his beautiful fingers. Min Yoongi is a desirable and polished man, yiu knew that, but it could be due to the hormones but you felt like you saw him in a new light. You nodded your head and smiled at you, that smile suddenly made all the rest of your worries disappear. "Today, I'll pick you up at 7pm, text me the address" he said as he stood up and picked his coat and extended his hand to shake, as you thought. But the moment you presented yours he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "See you" he said with a gummy grin and left. 

You sighed and sat down as Jimin looked at Yoongi and then at you with excited eyes that told you, that he saw what just happened. You looked at the time, and it was 12.50pm already, so you headed towards the cafe. 

"What do you want?" You asked the moment you sat down infront of him. "When will you come back home?" He asked. You chuckled "home?" You asked cocking your eyebrown. Jungkook looked taken aback "our apartment" he said, damn he had so much hope in his eyes, you wished this was atleast few months ago, cause that Y/n would had ran and hugged him. But the Y/n you are today doesn't give a fuck about this, rather you feel repulsed. "I am not going back, at least not now, I need time to process what I want. And to confirm you, yes I am pregnant, you are welcome to stay in his or her life but I don't think there will be anything much between us. We can co-parent if you want." You said and Jungkook's head was down. "Will you never return to me? Have I lost you?" He asked. "You should have thought about that when you went to Minji when I needed you!" You whisper yelled. "I didn't understand back then, I didn't know. I was dumb please-" he tried to reach for you but you backed away. "I've told you what I had to say. I'll go now, I have work and I think, so do you" you said and stood up and walked away. Jungkook noticed his phone had 3 missed calls from Minji, he shook his head and stepped into his car and drove towards his office. 

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It was 6.58pm when Jimin let you know that Yoongi had arrived with a smirk on his face. You had considered if moving out but Chan and Jimin insisted on staying with them (two men) for the pregnancy and birth so that they can help during and after the delivery. Hence, you continued staying

 Yoongi took your hand into his and lead the way, he opened your car door for you to settle in before closing it and walked to his side. The two of you reminisce about old times, Yoongi very cunningly avoided any talk that involved your now ex-boyfriend. 

In the restaurant, being the gentleman that he is, he pulled your chair for you. "Wine? Sir?" A waitress asked  and he shook his head a no "juice for us" he said. You looked at him surprised and he said "you shouldn't drink when you are pregnant" he said. "You know?" You asked in shock. "Your mother might have called me up to tell me" he said, fixing his hair, a habit he has when he is nervous. "Are you aiming to talk me out of it?" You asked. "Y/n, this is your baby, you do whatever you feel is right. I will always support you" he paused to take a breath and said "I would love it if you'd let me stay beside you" he said looking at you. You remember this look on his face the same one when he had asked you to prom and when he asked you out on Valentine's day in college. Both times Jungkook was the first thing that came to your mind. "Let's see how we go then" you said, flashing a smile and he flashed a gummy smile at you and held your hand, rubbing comforting circles on the back of your palm.

You remember those times during high school when Yoongi used to almost force himself into your room and refused to move on days when Jungkook ditched you for Minji. You thought he pitied you, so once you had told him "you don't need to do this! I'm not really looking for your pity". "I'm not here because I pity you. I am here because I want to, I'd rather you spend time with me than that jerk, or better to say than waiting for that jerk" he said. You remember how even when you were young he used to give you candies and chocolates. Even though his father and you didn't really see eye to eye, that never stopped Yoongi from being around you. 

"Why are you doing this?" You asked him when he asked you out to prom. "Mr Jerk asked Little Ms Bitch to prom, do you wanna be a loser and go alone?" He teased, "I won't be alone, I'll go with my friends" you said and his face judgy face said he won't take that shit, so you said yes. Yoongi was good, he always cared about how you felt and never overstepped your boundaries, if only you could like him then things would be better, you used to think. Even in college, when Yoongi had to partner up with a junior he had written your name without hesitation. You always enjoyed your time with him. "You know how I feel about you, I feel worse when I see you wasting your love on him" he had once said.

Thus, when your contract was over with Jungkook, you reached out to him and he immediately agreed to this deal. You found out, even working with Yoongi was better than working with Jungkook as you generally did most of the planning with Chan, but Yoongi had important inputs to place and ideas that enriched your plans. You took so long to see him, you wasted so much feelings and time, when this person was there for you all along. Even in a crowded room all you saw was Jungkook, who's eyes would be instilled on Minji, but Yoongi's were always on you. 

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As dumb as luck could be there sat Jungkook in a corner of the same hotel on the same floor as you and Yoongi sat with his board of directors having a business dinner. He clenched his teeth as he watched you laugh at Yoongi's jokes and he reached out to hold your hand. The images flashed in front of his eyes when he reached out for you this morning and you curled into yourself.

He remembered how you used to look at him with the same eyes as you are now looking at Yoongi. He now remembers how slowly that light started dimming and that night the light in your eyes wasn't there when you looked at him. His mind reminded him of all those promises he broke, dates he missed, of all the lost time that he put behind someone whom he shouldn't have given daylight to. He remembered all those tears he made you shed. You've been there for him all this time and he dared to take your presence for granted. He dared to think you'd wait around for him forever? How could he make the most important person of his life feel like shit. Maybe Mingyu was right, he did try to tell him about Minji's malicious intentions months ago, but Jungkook only saw that Mingyu was mistreating Minji. He refused to see the truth time and again and lost the last chance he had to bring himself back, to correct himself. Now, all he has were your memories and the child you promise to let him co-parent, maybe that's enough for him, it has to be. He lost you and it was his own fucking fault. 

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Taglist: @bbl32 @back2bluesidex @cherryblossom-2004 @welcometomyworld13 @chaconnelatte @ane102 @kookswifesblog @crvame @mschievous247 (couldn't tag)

Masterlist

[arabriddler]

AITA for killing my best friend’s girlfriend?

Wait. Hear me out. My best friend ( 28M ) had gone through a rough patch and was admitted to an Asylum. For six months I ( 32M ) would visit him everyday and give him gifts and talk with him. He’s the only friend I have and in that period we grew close. I’m a man of power, and people only respect me out of fear or need for protection, except him who genuinely likes me even when I hated him at first. Using my connections, I got him out of the asylum and gave him a job in my mayoral campaign and helped him readjust. Through it, he showed me that people can like me and vote for me in a clean way ( even if he had to go behind my back and disobey my orders to do so ), and when I won the election, one of my ex-staff tried to kill me and he saved my life! He even nearly got himself killed. he said he’d do anything for me. Eve since my mother’s death, I never thought someone would actually care about me this much. So, I fell in love with him. He’s my one true love, and following my late mother’s advice, I should run with it. Except I was shy and insecure and kept balking whenever I tried to confess to him. When he told me he admires me, I finally found the courage to tell him, but asked him to dinner where we live so I could confess to him.

he went out to bring wine and didn’t come back because he met a woman ( ??F ) who looked exactly like his dead ex-girlfriend ( which he killed in that rough patch in his life ) and fell in love with her overnight. That’s ridiculous!

I met his new girlfriend and she was a sweet librarian. I told her about his precious stunt as a serial killer. Admittedly I wanted him for myself, but she was soft and sweet they couldn’t have lasted. My best friend would’ve killed her! But she apparently told my best friend that it’s alright and she trusts he changed now.

My best friend panicked about hurting her and I encouraged him to dump her, but he asked me to do that for him. It’s fine, really, I’m happy to end their doomed romance. I visited her to deliver her the news but she refused claiming she could show him he couldn’t hurt her! She wrote him a letter and my best friend went to dump her himself, but returned after spending the night at her place claiming he’s all fixed now and now she can’t hurt her.

So, I cut the breaks in her car and she had an unfortunate accident :)

[llamaisllama777]

DAILY*/WEEKLY* LAES, TSAMS, EAPS REVIEW! 👏 👏 👏

Yesterday's episode were great I wonder what today's episodes will bring...

HE'S HERE!!! TAURUS IS HERE! EVERYONE PANIC! let's see how badly this ends....

Surprisingly well actually.

The music in this episode was also really good. I usually don't pay attention to the background music, but the music in this episode was really good it kinda reminded me of Walking Dead mixed with Last of Us. I'm not sure if that was the intent, but it works really well I feel for this situation.

Taurus is obviously menacing, but he's also oddly calm. Not what I expected from a destroyer of worlds. He says he's just here to observe Lunar and the others and decided if Lunar and probably the whole world should live.

I ain't gonna lie, I don't have hope for this world.

Taurus is gonna take one look at the whole place and decided everyone is better off dead. Which will probably lead to some kinda of Astrals civil war or Nexus showing up and whooping Taurus and the others Astrals behinds and Lunar having to step in and save the Astrals. But that's a pipe dream I guess. We'll have to wait and see.

I can. Nebula isn't a big fan of Taurus, and he clearly isn't a big fan of her. The way he talks to her, I get she's just the messager, but she's still a person. Taurus is gonna be observing everyone and his next stop his Sun and Moon, and I don't have high hopes for what he'll say or think of them. Him and the other Astrals know about Nexus and his little stunt with star power. Sun, Moon, you guys better have a good space lawyer. I know Earth plans to befriend Taurus and make things easier on Lunar, but I have a feeling Taurus isn't the friend making type.

Gemini did say Taurus would threaten Lunar's family to get a reaction out of him. Taurus, I swear to gosh! If you hurt any of them.

Also, I think it's a matter of time until Earth runs into Nebula again, and if she does, I hope she can convince Nebula to help them with EVERYTHING going on.

We'll have to wait and see.

Now, let's see what Sun and Moon are up to maybe they'll have a calmer episode today...

Nope. Just trauma and sadness.

Solar and New Moon reunite.

Probably not the way either of them wanted but here they are.

Okay, Nexus has just completely gone off the rocker!

"All it takes is one bad day" -Joker

Guess that saying was right for Nexus (Not really but still)

Solar tries to reason with Nexus and even says he can help him come back to the family, and Nexus just laughs! He starts spouting off all these lies about the family, like how Lunar never cared about him. He did! That Earth was just trying to fill the void cause her dad didn't love her. Earth still believed the creator loved her at that time, so that's a lie! And that Sun never cared and just took pity on Nexus. Nexus, you dense mother.... Nexus, you are just a terrible person. Knock off the oc act and get a life! Seeing as how you lost the one you had. I mean, you'll probably get yourself killed soon anyways so what's the point. But we probably should worry. Someone pointed out to me that Nexus could be a part of Rez's plan, and it's definitely looking like it. Maybe Dark Sun is Rez's master or at least is in league with Rez and his boss. I feel so bad for everyone here. (And I kinda feel bad for Nexus.... but not by a lot.) I more pity Nexus cause one day I hope he'll realize that he lost the BEST thing that ever happened to him and will never get it back and I hope he dies knowing that.

I more so feel bad for Sun and Solar.

Solar already had to kill his Moon once... and now he has to do it again. And Sun sounded so shocked and saddened when Solar suggested they kill Nexus. Nexus/New Moon was the Moon who actually showed he cared for sun. And he did at one point, but now he can't even say Sun's name without wanting to gag! Oof.

This is just sad all around.

And now they have Nexus, Taurus, and Creator after them.... LOVELY!

This is all going to boiling over and culminate in some crazy Infinity war level poo I hope.

And now, it's a less sad one but still equally as worrying.

Puppet and Solar reunite! Yay! At least one of his reunions went well today.

Puppet filled in Solar to everything that has happened. Gosh, that must have been fun. This is like the second time someone has had to explain to him what's been happening since he's been dead.

Solar gave Puppet some advice on what to do about Eclipse, and Sun gave her some advice on what to do about the other Sun and Moon. I hope their advice works. Puppet expressed at the very end of the episode her wish to leave this new dimension and return to the old one.... Puppet...

WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST STAY IN THE OTHER DIMENSION THEN?!

Puppet, you left that universe to protect everyone from Puppeteer. Now, I'm not sure what the deal with Puppeteer is now. He's been weakened cause Puppet herself has been weakened, but there is still the risk of him coming back. Are you really gonna take that chance, Puppet?

Also, Puppet, you uprooted your entire family's life to go here. You don't have that apartment anymore! You can't just decide to move to a whole other universe and bond to said universe only to decide to leave it after what 3 weeks?

Yes, I know Foxy chose to go with her, and he could have chosen not to but did, but still, you can't just decide to ditch when the going gets tough Puppet, you stick it out and ride the waves till it all calms. I hope everything works out for Puppet and Eclipse and hope Sun and Solar's advice to her works. Also, sorry if it seems like I hate Puppet's character, I don't. I love her character and this flaw of hers. I'm just being critical.

11/10 TAURUS HAS ARRIVED.

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Not Meant To Be

Vox x GN!Reader

A/N: Listen to Pork Soda by Glass Animals cause it’s based off of that. We don’t know of Vox’s past but I’m making something up and running with it. SET SOMEWHERE IN THE 1950’s!!

TW:KINDA DARK SO BE AWARE! Talks of death, secret relationships, talks of NSFW but nothing too explicit, talks about very bad crimes, murder, sorry gang no happy ending.

You both used to be business partners in life, one handled the dirty work while the other ran the whole thing. The normal brains over brawn situation. Naturally he would be the face of the whole operation, he had the smarts, the calming smile and the confidence of a man who can control the room. You were always behind him, where he went you followed much like his own shadow. That’s what people called you as well, it didn't matter if it was to your face or not, you were his shadow. The shadow who had one foot in the grave and the other in the deep trenches of the mafia but working with him made it feel like you weren’t knee deep in dead bodies, blood money and drugs.

You knew better to get your hopes up, you’d live and die in the chains of your business venture. But, Vox made it so much easier, taking you by the arm and dragging you to rich sophisticated parties that were filled with different celebrities. Allowing you to taste the expensive foods and alcohol that was richer than your own blood. He never treated you as his shadow, only his business partner, the business partner that stayed with him after long nights and laid in his bed after he had gone off to bed wondering if you had regretted any of your choices. Pulling you into empty rooms and treating you as if you were his priceless jewel he had stolen from the bank.

Yet, nothing could’ve prepared you for the heartbreak and soul crushing realization that he was murdered by your own family. “He was getting too chummy with you. He needed to be taken care of.” The Don’s lapdog whispered to you as you walked into the crime scene. You didn’t get to mourn, you couldn’t show them the weakness he had become. Days later when you were hiding from your recent stunt for shooting the Don in a run down motel far from the city is when you saw it. The headlines on the papers, ‘Local TV Star found dead in motel after recent rumors of illegal drug ring and fraudulent exploits come to light.’ Your heart sank and you rolled the paper up, you knew Vox wasn’t a “clean” man but this was a surprise to you. You missed the loud mouth fucker. You couldn’t leave, they were looking for you and even then, you already signed your ticket down to hell once you stepped into that office all those years ago.

Your hands gripped the paper in your hands as you stared at the ever freezing picture of Vox in the paper, his wide smile showing off all of his pearly white teeth. Tears collected in your eyes as you stared down at him, he was such a fucking idiot. You were a fucking idiot for getting him twisted in the wicked game you called your life. There was a reason you were the brawns of the duo, nothing but muscle and a personal weapon to get people to back off. You were nothing but a bleeding heart and your heart shattered for a man who truly was never in your grasp, he was too high on the pedestal and you were leagues behind him.  He was your Achilles and you were his Patroclus. 

You were never destined for anything greater except to be what you are while he was everything. He was your everything. But now he was gone and they were outside coming for you, your time was coming to an end. In a matter of seconds, the door had busted open and the people you’d come to know as your “family” grabbed you, roughly throwing a sack over your head and dragged you out of the motel room and into the back of a car. You didn’t fight. The less likely you are to fight them the easier it would be for you to accept your fate. The ride was silent except for some hushed whispers as someone pressed the gun to the side of your head.

It was an hour later when the car came to a stop and then you were being guided onto a dock, then a boat. They pushed you to sit down and tied rope to the ends of your feet, silent the whole time before the bag was ripped off of your head and you stared at the eyes of the man who you came to know as your brother. “Why did you do it?” He asked, helping you stand up from your spot. 

“You killed him.” You glared at him, the rope they tied around your wrists burned you, “We had to. He was getting too chummy with you, he knew too much.” The man spat picking up the cement brick that had been tied to the other end of the rope. You didn’t need to answer him, you just let the brick drag you down into the dark waters.

You’d see your loud mouth fool soon. But this time there was no more hiding.