#love being taken away from me because my body has decided it can’t or won’t handle them

[the-grape-entity]

When a bad day at the end of a few bad weeks turns into being terrified you’re getting worse and terrified you’re never getting better

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

[tightjeansjavi]

take a moment to breathe

A/N: so after my medical trauma experience yesterday, I decided to write a little comfort Joel piece to cope. This is totally self-indulgent to me, but I do hope others are able to relate. Besides, who doesn’t love soft! Joel? He’s like a warm hug 🥹

~word count: 2.5k~

Summary: after a failed IUD insertion, your boyfriend, Joel Miller takes care of you.

Pairing | no outbreak! Joel Miller x f! reader

Warnings: medical trauma, failed IUD insertion, torn cervix, isn’t it so fun to be a person with a uterus? Fluff, comfort, soft! boyfriend Joel, he’s so sweet it makes me want to cry, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions other than one mention of Joel brushing your hair, and then lifting you up from the ground, +18 minors dni!

main masterlist masterlist

“Okay, take a deep breath. You’re going to feel a bit of cramping.”

The fluorescent lights are annoyingly bright as you stare up at the ceiling and focus on taking a deep breath, just as your doctor has requested. You went into the procedure of getting an IUD confidently. You knew that there would be some overall discomfort. Some cramps, but nothing too terrible. It would all be over in the next five minutes and then you wouldn’t have to think of contraceptives for the next five years. It totally felt worth it in that present moment.

You inhaled deeply, exhaling through your mouth. The cramping pain was bearable.

“You’re doing great. Okay, here comes another cramp. Take another deep breath for me.”

Two down, this isn’t so bad.

The third cramp felt different than the last two. It was an intense pain that nearly had you crying out from the sheer shock of it. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

What the fuck was that?

“So..your cervix just tore.” Your doctor states this information as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“What?” You’re in disbelief. You weren’t prepared for this. There was no fore-warning of your cervix tearing during an IUD insertion! Nothing in the pamphlet that you were previously given. Nothing written on the waiver you signed a little under 10 minutes ago.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Oh god.

“Well, your cervix is pretty angry with me right now. I’m going to get the bleeding to stop. I think we’ll have to reschedule in two weeks, okay? There’s medication you can take that will help relax your cervix, but don’t worry, this happens more often than you think.”

More often than you think?!

There’s medication I could have taken, but you decided to tell me after the fact?

A sense of nausea washes over you as you're laying there. The lights are too bright. Too bright. Your doctor is being too casual for your liking. Your uterus is cramping and you’re being told that you have to come back in two weeks to go through this hell again?

“Hopefully the bleeding stops..otherwise you’ll have to come in tomorrow afternoon so I can stitch your cervix. I’m hoping that won’t be the case.”

You’re not even listening to what your doctor is saying at this point. It feels as if your body has gone into shock, and all you want is for your doctor and her assistant to leave the room so you can take a moment to breathe.

You can’t even recall what your doctor says next. Words are flowing in, but your brain is struggling to process the event that just happened.

Your doctor says her goodbyes, see you in two weeks, and to call if the bleeding doesn’t stop, or gets heavier.

You’re finally alone, and the tears won’t stop.

You’re doing your best to keep it together, but it’s nearly impossible as your body is trembling from the trauma it just endured. Your mind is blank, numb as you redress. You brought a pair of your boyfriend’s sweats from home so that you had something comfy to change into before driving home. Joel had offered to drive you to your appointment, but you opted out simply because it made more logical sense in your head to drive straight from work. Now, as you’re wiping away your free falling tears, you’re wishing you took him up on that offer.

His sweats bring you a sense of comfort that you were desperately clawing for. The fabric of them are soft and gentle against your skin, and his familiar scent lingers in the fibers of the fleece material.

In a haste you sling your bag over your shoulder and grasp your keys in a tight clutch between your fist.

You think you’re in the clear, and able to function as a person in society once more, until a nurse in the hallway sees your tears and its game over.

After allowing your body to break down completely, you find yourself sitting in the examination room. Your doctor is speaking, but you don’t hear any words leave her mouth. All you can do is numbly nod your head as your leg quivers and shakes; your body is processing.

When you finally leave the office and make it to the safety of your car, your fingers shakily start the ignition before you’re sinking back in the driver's seat. You take a few long deep breaths as you slowly regain your composure, even if it only lasts for your drive home.

Joel is waiting for you, of course. The garage door is open and you catch a glimpse of his back turned towards you as he’s setting down a black tupperware bin with a bright orange cover; Halloween decorations. He remembered you mentioning wanting to decorate this weekend, so as soon as he got home from work, he headed straight to the garage to get all the decor boxes down. He’s just brushing off a bit of built up cobwebs along the cover when he hears the familiar sound of your tires rolling over the concrete driveway.

You’re home, and he’s so excited to see you.

He greets you at your driver's side door with his usual gentle smile, and painfully handsome face. Chivalry hasn’t died as he grasps the door handle and pulls it open. His eyes search your own as a frown slowly crawls across his lips. He takes delicate notice of your puffy face, glassy eyes as you struggle to exit your car. He can see your hands trembling before he’s gently placing a hand along your shoulder to steady you.

“Baby? Hey, how’d it go?..” He asked softly, cautiously as he squeezed your shoulder gently. “Everythin’ alright, darlin?’”

You’re unable to respond as you drop your bag and your folded jeans before throwing your arms around him, hugging him so tightly, he’s afraid you might crumble right then and there.

“Oh, honey..” His voice nearly breaks as he wraps his arms around your trembling body with all the intentions to keep you safe, and comforted. “Take a moment to breathe, okay? I’m here. I got you.”

You’re a blubbering mess as you’re to-good-for-this-world boyfriend unconditionally consoles you. His shirt is soaked with your fresh falling tears as he whispers soothingly into your hair, pressing soft tender-felt kisses as an attempt to bring you back down to earth.

I’m here.

I’m here.

You’re safe.

Somehow he has coaxed you into the safety of your shared home for a bit of privacy. He has not let go of you yet, and you’re grateful for it.

“My cervix tore.” You blurted out suddenly through your tears as he was rubbing gentle circles against your clothed back.

Joel doesn’t even know what to think or say as you slowly sink down to the floor and he follows shortly after.

“It was a failed insertion..and my doctor? She acted like it was not a big fucking deal. She waited till after my cervix tore to tell me that I can come back in two weeks, and there’s a muscle relaxing medication I can take that will help relax my cervix. You’d think she’d tell me this before attempting the procedure.” You sniffled as Joel’s hands gently cupped your face with the utmost attention and care he could give you. His thumbs gently brushed away your tears. He felt absolutely horrified and livid for you.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. Honey, I don’t even know what to say..I cannot even begin to imagine how traumatizing that musta been..” His tone is soft, gentle as he holds you protectively. “Your doctor should have absolutely given you all the information beforehand.”

“Exactly. The most fucked up part is the fact that she clearly could tell that my cervix was not dilating, and yet she just kept going. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt because I know doctors make mistakes, but why the fuck did she keep pushing my body like that? Why wasn’t I given the choice to stop the procedure altogether? I feel..violated.” You spoke nearly above a whisper as you clung tightly to your boyfriend.

“She should have stopped. There was no reason for her to continue pushing your body like that. I am so sorry, and I am so angry for you right now, baby. I’m so so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?..anything? It’s okay if you need some space too..I completely understand.” He was always respectful of your needs, and your boundaries. It was the bare minimum, but Joel respected you effortlessly.

“I don’t know. I just–don’t fucking know right now.” You couldn’t help but bitterly laugh at the situation because you were realizing just how fucked up this situation truly was.

“Baby, that’s okay. I’m here for whatever you need, okay? If you wanna just sit on the floor for now till you’re feelin’ a bit better, we can do that. I can make you some tea? Soup?”

“I..want to get out of these clothes and then shower. Will you please come with me? I don’t want to be alone.” You softly murmured as you went to wipe the sleeve of your hoodie under your eyes.

“Of course, baby. Of course I'll come with you. Want me to carry ya?” He offered softly.

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, c’mon, sweet girl. Arms ‘round my neck. I gotcha.” He was already gently sliding his arms under your thighs as you gently wrapped your arms around his neck. He carried you right upstairs to your shared bathroom. He made sure the shower temperature was just right before you stepped under the warm stream. He slowly sank down along the edge of the toilet seat with his hands lightly clasped between his thighs.

“Tell me about your day, baby.” Your voice softly rose through the billowing steam as your eyes fluttered shut.

So, he did just that. Starting with Tommy almost falling off the goddamn ladder (again). He told you how much he enjoyed the lunch you had packed for him, and he had kept a collection of your little love notes in the glove box of his truck. He told you how excited he was to decorate for Halloween with you this weekend, and start your Halloween movie-marathon that you had meticulously planned out. He loved you so much.

Between the comforting warm stream of the shower, and Joel’s soothing voice, you could feel your body finally begin to relax. He kept conversing with you until he heard the light squeak of the shower handle turning off.

Before you had even stepped out, he already had a fresh fluffy towel ready to wrap you up in.

You were so beyond grateful to have a man treat you this well. You loved him so much, and everyday you were reminded just how lucky you were to have met him.

He wrapped you up in the towel before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He let you dress in privacy while he busied himself downstairs in the kitchen making you a fresh cup of tea, and a grilled cheese, as requested.

He knocked softly on the bedroom door with a tray in hand as he waited for the okay to come in. He couldn’t help the frown that crossed his face when he realized just how tired you truly were. He set the tray down on the nightstand table before slowly sinking down on the comforter beside you.

While you enjoyed your grilled cheese and cup of tea, Joel was working through the stubborn tangles in your hair with a wet brush. You couldn’t help but smile in between bites when you heard him soothingly begin to hum under his breath. You knew just how much he treasured intimate moments like these.

“How’s that grilled cheese tastin?’ Made sure to put extra butter on the bread, just how my girl likes it.”

“It’s delicious, baby. One of the best grilled cheeses I have ever had.”

“D’awh, well, ain’t you jus’ a sweetheart? S’glad you’re enjoyin’ it, cus’ it was made with love.” He warmly chuckled as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

You craned your head to the side just so you could give him a sweet kiss on the lips. A silent thank you for his unconditional love.

Soon he was rubbing lotion on your legs, and he was being extra careful and cautious around your thighs. Your heart just about melted into a puddle when he pressed a feather light kiss to the inside of your thigh and whispered, “I'm sorry.”

You gently pulled him upwards towards your face just so you could give him another kiss; he was yours after all.

He tended to you all evening as the two of you cuddled up under the warm confines of the comforter. His arms were gently draped around you while you were indulging in a delicious ice cream sundae, compliments of the chef. Beetlejuice was playing in the background as your head was gently resting back against his chest.

“Hey, baby?” He asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“Y’know I'm all in support of you makin’ choices for your body, but if you don’t wanna put yourself through that hell again, I’d have no problem getting a vasectomy. Especially if it’ll bring us both some peace of mind. Cus’ I know we ain’t plannin’ on havin’ kids, so the last thing we need is any pregnancy scares, right? I’m jus’ puttin’ the option out there, but I fully support you if you do decide on goin’ back to get the procedure done.”

“You’d..do that for me? Baby, that is so incredibly kind of you to offer. I’m not sure what I am going to do just yet, but I love you so much. Thank you for thinking of the well-being for me, but also for yourself.” You reached your hand up to caress his cheek as he gently gave your waist a light squeeze.

“Baby, of course I would. I jus’ don’t like seein’ you in any pain. You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you, and I jus’ want you to be comfortable, and pain free.”

“Fuck, is someone cutting onions right now?” You jokingly remarked as he chuckled. “God, I love you so much. How did I ever get so lucky?”

“Baby, I think it’s the otherway around. Cus’ i’m wonderin’ how the hell some smuck like me got graced by a goddamn angel.” He murmured softly.

“That’s enough. You are going to cause the waterworks, and I have already cried enough today!” You teasingly spoke as you settled further against the comforting warmth of his chest.

“Okay, okay. But..guess how much I love you?”

“How much?”

You could already picture his little boyish grin creeping over his face as gently released you from his grasp before he stretched his arms out to the side, as far as they could reach.

“Thiiiis Much!” He was such a dork, but he always knew how to make you smile.

“You are such a dork, Miller.” You genuinely laughed as you lightly punched his shoulder affectionately.

“That I am, my girl. That I am.” His heart was so full of you, and you of him.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤎

[axigailxo]

Pretty Like You | PJM (2)

part two: parties and pilates

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.8k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.

ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell

**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | <-previous | next ->

“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”

It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.

After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.

All options are tempting, nonetheless.

Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.

Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.

Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.

And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.

Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.

“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.

Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.

Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.

Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.

You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.

However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.

Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.

Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.

“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”

“Jimin? Hey!”

Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.

He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.

He wishes his skin were as smooth.

“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”

Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“

“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”

His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.

“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.

“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”

Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.

“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”

Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.

“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”

Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.

“What?” You ask, slightly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”

You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”

You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.

Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.

The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.

Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.

Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.

You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party

You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people

Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.

You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up

You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about

Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.

Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.

Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.

Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.

“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.

Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.

“Yeah… definitely.”

Jimin is in a rut.

Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.

He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.

This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.

He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.

He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.

He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.

He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.

He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.

Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.

With a sigh, he heads to the door.

“Knock… Knock… Knock!”

“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”

Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?

“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.

Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.

“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”

“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.

“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”

Party Mentality?

Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.

You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.

“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”

Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.

“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.

“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”

You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.

This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.

“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.

Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.

“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.

“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.

“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”

Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”

“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.

“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”

“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.

You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.

“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”

“Just try it on.”

He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.

It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.

Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.

“I look stupid.”

“You look sexy.”

The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.

More so his lap.

“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”

“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”

Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.

His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.

“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”

And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.

“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”

Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.

“Another time,” you repeat softly.

Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.

“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.

He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.

“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”

He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.

“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.

This was a mistake.

“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”

You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.

That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.

“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.

He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.

He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.

He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.

He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.

He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.

“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.

Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”

The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.

“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.

“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.

Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.

“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.

Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.

“Oh what are you supposed to be?”

He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.

“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”

Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.

“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”

Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.

“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”

They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.

He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.

“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.

“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”

Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.

“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”

Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.

Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.

Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.

He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.

Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.

The way your pouty lips move when you talk.

Your soft skin.

Your silky voice.

The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.

Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck Y/N, yes.”

He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.

He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.

Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.

Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.

“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”

And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.

Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.

What a fucking legacy he’d have left.

After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.

“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”

His cheeks flush red.

“Only freaks do that.”

Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“

He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.

“Because I’m a freak too.”

Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.

You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.

“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”

Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”

And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.

You’re perfect.

You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.

He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.

To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?

Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.

You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.

The world is funny that way.

ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz

soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻

(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)

[lovelytsunoda]

INDYCAR DRIVERS AS ROMANCE BOOK TROPES

summary: I give romance tropes to my favourite funky indycar men. if y’all actually want to see me do any of these, please tell me in the comments 🫣

dedicated to my bestie @magnummagnussen who helped ghostwrite and give her ideas on a few of the tropes! (sorry for not including sting ray bestie, I have his trope to callum!)

pato o ward

reverse grumpy sunshine!!! pato is a bright ball of sunshine and in an ideal romance book he would pair with a girl who is a little grumpy (just a little bit) and cynical about falling in love and then dear sweet patricio would sweep in and show her just how magical being in love can be and show her that soulmates are real and life doesn’t have to be doom and gloom all the time

josef newgarden

single dad x nanny trope! I can see this playing out as recently widowed josef (probably not the right word) struggling to balance being the only caregiver for his son next to his racing career. cue y/n, the nanny he hires to watch after his son while he’s away and competing. he’s scared to fall in love again because he’s still grieving what he once had, but his son grows attached to y/n and how could josef not fall in love with someone his son loves so much?

kyle kirkwood

second chance romance! he lost her once, and now that she’s back in his life he won’t give her up!! the way I see this one playing out is that maybe they were together before kyle made it to the big leagues, back when nobody in america knew his name. but while she was deciding which ivy league scholarship to choose, Kyle is thinking about his career. she gives him an ultimatum, and he picks racing. so she goes to her big fancy school and forgets about him. but when a family tragedy brings her back to florida and she comes face to face with kyle, who is now a grand prix winner, hes desperate to keep her from being the one who got away.

colton herta

accidental pregnancy!! their relationship was falling apart, the distance and the pressures of colton’s career. eating them alive. words were said that couldn’t be taken back. so they called it quits, he moved to nashville and she tried to keep her head down and finish school. until she missed her period. her world seems to be ending with those two little lines, but she still cares about him. she can’t just keep coltons child a secret from him, this disaster is as much his fault as it is hers. so she goes to indiana the weekend before the 500 and she tells him. tensions are running high between them both, but they’re trying to do right by each other and the baby, and the experience reminds them that maybe they were meant to be together all along.

marcus armstrong

brothers best friend!!! y/n ilott knows that marcus is off limits. since she was fifteen she’s thought all her brothers friends were gross anyways. marcus was always by far the most annoying. fast forward a few years and they’re racing together in the same series again and suddenly marcus armstrong isn’t a gross as she remembers. and has his voice always been that sexy?? but callum can NEVER know.

david malukas

wrong number! let’s face it this man is too lazy to make contacts for half of the names in his phone. he was so sure that was sting rays number. why wouldn’t it be, the man from idaho had typed it in himself. turns out, it wasn’t sting ray at all, but some random college student who lived over a thousand miles away. he starts to text her when she gets bored, eventually progressing to face time calls, and begins to get flustered once he has a face to put with the personality. ends with him flying out to meet in her in person.

christian lundgaard

fake dating! he shouldn’t have done it. every bone in his body told him not to do it but the panicked look on her face was enough to make christian agree to pretend to be her boyfriend to scare off her cheating ex boyfriend, who was making her seriously uncomfortable. it was just supposed to be for the weekend, until the guy started leaving her alone. but a lot can happen on one race weekend and suddenly it doesn’t seem so fake anymore.

callum ilott

childhood friends to lovers! they were always just supposed to be friends, but if that’s the case, why does callum hate her new boyfriend now that the relationship is getting serious? why does y/n still feel like something is missing? cue a drunken night out leading to the hottest sex callum has ever had and lingering questions on both sides about what they really truly want out of life and love.

TAGS:

@clemswrld @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiasundays @scuderiamh @lorarri

[vodika-vibes]

I’d like to request from another kiss prompt. A hesitant kiss.

With none other than my sweet love Darman. ❤️. I just can’t get enough of him.🤷🏻‍♀️.

You can decide who does the kissing. I always love reading everything you write.

Thank you. 😊

Hesitance

Summary: Darman has been watching you for ages now, and it all comes to a head late one evening.

Pairing: Darman Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 1086

Warnings: Fluff, some spice at the end

A/N: So you know, I had a plan when I started this, but, uh, that plan did not happen, and this was born instead. I'm so sorry if it's not quite what you had in mind. Also, I do have your other requests, but I'm saving them for later.

Divider by Saradika

He’s watching you again. You try not to let it bother you, though it really does. You’re not sure if he’s watching you simply because he doesn’t trust you, though you won’t be surprised if that’s the case.

Maker knows that he and his brother’s have reason enough to be suspicious of people who aren’t their brothers. 

It’s just a shame, though. Because you really like him. Him and his contagious laugh, and mischievous grin.

Not that either of those have ever been directed towards you. No. You’ve never been that lucky. The most you’ve ever received from him is a nod acknowledging your presence. Which is…something? You suppose.

You roll your shoulder, trying to ignore the way Darman’s stare is making your skin prickle, and you focus your attention back on the datapad you’re trying to repair. Trying, being the keyword in that sentence, because it’s starting to look that Darman flung it at a wall…or maybe ran it over.

You hold it up by a corner and sigh as glass falls from the front and lands on your worktable.

This isn’t fixable.

You shove it in a box, along with the broken glass, and you set it in the pile with the rest of the stuff that needs to be scrapped at the end of the day. And then you push your chair back and make the long walk to the storage closet on the other side of base to grab a new datapad.

And then you walk all the way back across the base, to your desk, and you begin the set up.

By the time the security has been updated, and all of the programs Darman needs are installed and set up, nearly three hours have passed. And by the time you’re sure that the datapad is ready for GAR use, another hour has passed. 

You heave out another sigh, exhaustion writ in every line in your body, and you push away from your desk. It’s now late enough that you’re one of the few people still working.

And you know, from experience, that Darman will be in his quarters. 

You drag yourself to the living quarters and knock, twice, on Darman’s door and wait. The door eventually slides open and he looks down at you, surprise crossing his face.

“Are you still working?” He asks, a frown marring his perfect features.

You offer him the datapad, “Here. Please don’t break this one. It took me four hours to get it to where it was acceptable to work for you.”

He takes the device and absently turns it on, “What happened to the other one?”

“I’ll have to toss it. After I wipe the memory card, which…” You sigh, “I’m going to go do now.”

He lifts his gaze from the datapad, and he scans your face, “Have you taken any breaks today?” Darman asks.

And you bristle, hearing the silent judgment, “I was busy. Fixing your datapad.”

He falters, “No that’s not…” Darman pauses, “I wasn’t trying to offend you, I know how hard you work.” He tries, “But it could have waited-”

You fold your arms over your chest, “You need a datapad to do your job, so no, Darman, it couldn’t wait.”

“Well…thank you, then.”

The tension drains out of your shoulders, you half expected him to say something about getting it to him sooner. “You’re welcome.” You hesitate for a moment, “Uh…good night.”

You turn to walk away, but are forced to stop when his hand closes around your wrist. You turn to look up at him, and he looks just as startled as you do.

“Is there something you needed?” You ask, flicking your gaze from the hand wrapped securely, but not painfully, around your wrist and up to his face. 

His mouth opens to say something, and he scans your face rapidly, “I…” Darman trails off, “Fuck…I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

“What?” You stare at him, wide eyed.

And he stares right back, just as wide eyed, “Wait, no! I mean, yes, I do want to kiss you…like so bad. But that’s not what…It’s not what I was going to ask.”

“But it is what you asked,” You point out.

“...yeah…” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, “It’s just…I was going to ask you if you wanted dinner, but…you’re so…” Darman trails off.

“I’m so what?”

“...pretty. I just…I really want to kiss you. To see if your lips actually are as soft as they look.” He admits, without meeting your eyes.

“Is that why you stare at me so much?” You ask, as you take a step closer to him.

“You noticed that?”

“It was kind of…obvious.” You admit.

“Oh. Sorry.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and neither does he. And then you sigh silently. You have work to do, you should be getting back to it, but-

But-

You step closer to him, and his gaze snaps to you. You slowly reach up and lightly grip the collar of his armor pulling him down just enough that you can slowly, hesitantly, brush your lips against his.

You stay close to him as you pull away, your hand loosely gripping his arm, loose enough that he could pull away if that's what he wanted. “Like that?” You ask, nervous.

He stares at you, and for a moment, you worry that he’s not even breathing. And then he moves, his grip around your wrist tightens, and he pulls you flush against him and he crashes his lips against yours.

Darman pulls you back into his room, and hits the door control panel once he’s sure that you’re not going to be in the way, and he pins you against the wall, his lips never once pulling away from yours.

“Soft,” He groans against your lips, “So soft.” He kisses you again and again, “We stop the moment you say so,” He says breathlessly, as his lips trail from your lips, to your jaw and then down to your neck, where he presses hot, open mouthed, kisses against the soft skin there. 

You release a quiet moan and press closer to him, “Yes sir,” You gasp out, your words pulling a broken moan from his lips, and you make a mental note about that reaction. 

This is not how you expected to end the night, but you have no complaints as Darman starts to strip his armor off, to allow you to trail your fingers across his broad chest.

[hanjisick]

yandere!skz reaction to… you refuse to love them

warning. this is not how i portray the members of stray kids or how you should either. this is purely for entertainment purposes.

bang chan.

what a shame. but he wouldn’t ever stop just because you don’t love him the way that he loves you. he will keep trying no matter how long it takes.

how sad it is for him that you still struggle in your chains when he caresses your face. all he wants to do is love you, is that so hard? chan will never give up, after all, you’re his entire world. if he gave you up, he’d have nothing

lee minho.

this is exactly what he wants. he never wants to break you or let you get used to him.

minho loves the look of fear in your eyes as he shows you things that you didn’t even know were possible to do to another human. he loves the rage that you experience when he tries to touch you. it’s all so lovely to him and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

seo changbin.

similar to chan, changbin has no intentions of ever giving up. he will keep you locked away for the rest of your life if he has to.

he doesn’t understand it one bit. it’s easier to stay with him. other people will torment you, belittle you, cause you pain. but changbin? all he will do is show you love and care. the outside world is bitter and harsh— but his room is comforting and stress free.

why can’t you see that? why can’t you take his offering and give him back the thing that he wants most. your love.

hwang hyunjin. tw murder

all that he wants from you is for you to be his perfect doll. he wants you to be quiet, obedient, to follow his every move.

hyunjin does everything he can do to break you. he takes away everything from you that you could possibly imagine in order to do so. but no matter what, you never seem to give into him.

one day, while you slept in the chains, he decided to end your life. your body would work just fine for him, obedient and quiet, able to be at his side at all times with no complaints.

han jisung. tw murder & suicide

each time you shoved him way with a look of pure hatred in your eyes was like being hit by a thousand bullets in the chest. there was only so much pain that he could take.

he wanted you to love him. he wanted to live with you forever and be happy. jisung refused to let you go. he would rather die.

he would climb on top of you whilst you were chained to his bed with a gun to your head. he would hold your hand with tears in his eyes, ready to end his life immediately afterwards.

“maybe in the next life you will love me.”

lee felix.

it would be the most shocking of all to not give into felix. he would have no issues with locking you away for months at a time with zero contact.

you would almost never see a human being again if you never accepted that you belonged to felix. it would be extremely hard to not give in, otherwise you would go insane.

“you have some amazing willpower, baby. but i promise you that one day, you will give in to me. i’ll make sure of it.”

kim seungmin.

why? why won’t you love him? he’s done everything he could. he’s learned everything about you. he’s given you everything you love and taken away everything you hate.

he’d still follow you around like a lost puppy long after you told him you didn’t love him. he’d refuse to leave you alone but he wouldn’t kidnap you until he had to.

“tell me where i went wrong! i can fix it! did you not like the way i cooked your favorite food? was my singing bad? i can sing better! i’ll cook better! i’ll figure out how to make you happy!

yang jeongin. tw suicide

your love is a drug to him. he’ll die if he doesn’t get to have you, but he wants more. he wants you to want him just as bad as he wants you, but that won’t ever happen.

not with the way that you would look at him like he’s worth nothing. all of his attempts at earning your love are pointless if no matter what, you still hate him. you probably want him dead, don’t you?

if perfect you doesn’t want him, then all he can do is what you ask. if you don’t love him, he must be dirty and unlovable.

“if you don’t love me, what’s the point of living, darling? i have to do this. for you.”

requested. masterlist. / @hanjisick

[greatideas-badwriter]

SasuSaku: Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 27

Sakura was head over heels for her husband in a way she never imagined she’d feel about anyone. She loved him before the wedding, but after their marriage was officially consummated, it was as if their souls had become intertwined. Perhaps it was just her that felt as such. Sasuke spoke about his feelings relatively often, but it was evident each time that it made him incredibly uncomfortable. 

‘That’s just fine,’ the pink-haired princess mused while chopping vegetables in preparation for dinner, ‘He’s more than proven himself a great man. I no longer need words to reassure my anxieties.’ 

The prince in question was not present. He’d taken Shadow to the nearest town, which was a few hours’ ride away, for supplies. They’d only packed enough clothing for a couple of days, after all. Since they discovered just how compatible their bodies were, Sakura assumed he wanted to stay a while longer. 

Blush warmed her face as affection swelled within her chest. ‘To think that someone like me can feel this happy,’ she sighed dreamily, reminiscing about how gentle and loving Sasuke had been last night. 

Then, as all good things must end, the sad truth decided to make itself reappear in her head. 

She mumbled to herself, lips turning downward, “This won’t last. It can’t.” 

Disappointment so strong overwhelmed the young woman to the point that tears welled in her eyes. Life always had a bittersweet way of showing Sakura what she could have before ripping it away. This would be the harshest experience other than the death of her mother. Now she was glad Sasuke was away. Yes, his presence often helps calm her, but not when his happiness was on the line. 

With a resolute huff, the princess steeled her nerves. She’ll do this, no matter what. The prince had rescued her from her pitiful existence and showed her unimaginable kindness and care. Because of this, she’d do anything to ensure his safety. 

The sound of the door opening and closing met Sakura’s ears, so she sniffled and wiped at the few tears that’d risen so her husband wouldn’t notice and worry. 

“Welcome back. How was the trip?” 

Before she could even turn to lay eyes upon him, a sharp pain hit the back of her neck. 

Then, she was unconscious. 

Sakura’s throat was so sore that she couldn’t bear to even groan when she next awoke. It felt like someone had forced her to swallow pins and needles. Groggily, she blinked to clear her vision, but still, she couldn’t see a thing. That was when she realized a thick cloth of sorts was tied over her eyes. Terror iced her veins, waking her the rest of the way. The woman tried to get up. She couldn’t move far because something dug into her neck. When the rattle of a chain reached her ears, she realized some sort of collar was around her neck. It was tight enough that breathing was difficult, too. When she tried to call for help, unbearable pain shot through her throat. Confused, Sakura cried and attempted to remain calm, failing miserably. 

‘It must be an enchanted object, but who would kidnap me that has access to magic users? Where am I? How long have I been unconscious?’ 

As if those holding her captive could sense her wake despite her inability to make even the smallest sound, heavy footsteps were heard approaching somewhere outside the room she was in. Her pulse quickened with each one until the sound of some kind of lock being turned came, then a door opened nearby, and a voice she recognized but couldn’t pinpoint met her ears, “You’re a hard woman to find, y’know that?” 

‘I know this person, but from where…?’ Sakura couldn’t ask even if she wanted to because of the collar. 

She bristled, scampering backwards until her back hit the wall when those heavy footfalls swiftly approached. 

The scent of nicotine and the forest washed over her from the man. Only a millisecond passed that she could comprehend that before a resounding slap stung her face. It was so powerful that she stumbled to the side. Honestly, she would’ve fallen to the ground if the person didn’t grab her hair to yank her upright. Her entire system was fuzzy with shock at the sudden rough handling, so she froze. 

“If you try somethin’ funny like last time, I’ll make you wish you were fuckin’ dead.” 

Sakura’s hands fumbled blindly to the man’s chest, if only to feel more stable. 

His demeanor didn’t seem less angry, but a hint of amusement met his voice, “Be a good girl, and I’ll keep you in one piece until the prince comes looking for you.” The man released the stunned princess so that she fell to the ground, scraping her knees and palms. He snickered, “For the most part, anyway.” 

A long time passed. It might have been days or even weeks. Sakura’s blindfold was never removed, but after behaving favorably, she earned enough trust from her captor to have the chain removed from the collar. There were bathroom facilities in a tiny closet-like room that she had access to, but that was all. The woman wasn’t even given a bed. Just an empty place to rot away in. 

The same man was the only one to ever interact with her. He’d bring her one measly meal a day, often just some cold soup and plain bread, but she considered herself lucky she was being fed at all. As he had the first day, he also had a habit of slapping or shoving the poor pink-haired woman if she didn’t follow orders quickly enough or if he was just annoyed and wanted to take out his frustrations. 

He talked a lot, her captor. Never about anything note-worthy. Sakura listened only because there was a tiny chance he’d let something useful slip, but it didn’t happen until she’d been locked away for so long, she’d given up hope of Sasuke ever finding her. 

The man stood somewhere nearby as Sakura blindly ate while sitting on the floor. He’d been talking about some of his past jobs. She’d at least learned he was a mercenary for hire, and a skilled one if his tales weren’t bravado. 

“I’ve never so much as received a scratch from a target. A few times, one of my partners will backstab me, like when we first met, but none have been successful.” 

The stale bread became caught in Sakura’s throat as she finally pinpointed who’d captured her. It was the magenta-eyed man that’d chased her through the forest when she’d been kidnapped from the royal palace. ‘How’d he survive? I clearly saw him get stabbed through the stomach!’ 

She coughed, covering her face despite not caring whether or not this criminal found her polite. ‘Then again, I should’ve died, too. If I hadn’t been found and my rescuers hadn’t had potions handy, I would’ve.’ 

A heavy hand hit her back, causing her to tense up in a panic. She fumbled to her knees, trying to get away from the violent man. He grabbed her hair and shoved her back to the ground, “Can’t have you choking to death on me, Princess. The boss says your husband should arrive any day now.” 

During the first few days of captivity, Sakura tried to withstand the collar’s punishment for speaking, but that time had long passed. She desperately clawed at the magical device around her neck, wanting more than anything to ask questions like why was she here? What did they want with Sasuke? Who was this crazy person’s boss? 

Luckily, she wasn’t hit or shoved again for the rest of that day. She was left completely alone, though. 

Another few days passed before anything of note occurred. Sakura, feeling helpless and defeated, had begun brainstorming ways to either escape or die trying. Her death would help Sasuke, yet she’d like to at least tell him goodbye. That was the only thing keeping her going. 

On that fateful day, something new happened. The princess’ captor wasn’t alone. He was arguing with whoever’d joined him. She could hear his irritated voice as they approached from down the hall, “-it matter? It’s not like we’re gonna fuckin’ let her go either way!” 

The second person spoke quietly enough that she wasn’t able to get a read on their voice or words, just that they did respond. Then, the door unlocked and opened. The usual man sounded uncomfortable, which was odd, “Have you, uh, y’know….?” Sakura waited for him to continue. After a pause, he did, though he sounded angrier, “You haven’t had a woman’s bleed, have you?” 

Just like that, the world came to a standstill for the poor, captive princess. A choked sound passed her lips when she desperately tried to ask just how long she’d been there. 

‘Oh, God! Oh, no! Sasuke was supposed to have killed me by now! I never even considered the chance of conceiving!’ 

A cold, emotionless voice interrupted her panic attack, “Are you with child?” 

Tears flooded the cloth over her eyes, making it stick to her skin as she nodded, bowing low and holding her head in her hands. 

Sakura didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t for the more familiar captor to cackle loudly, “We hit the jackpot, Kakuzu! We’ll make more by selling a princess pregnant with a royal brat!” The woman shoved uselessly against him when he grabbed her arm and yanked her upright. “We’ll be set for life!” “Release her, Idiot! We’ll report this and wait for further instruction. The money is guaranteed this way.” 

So, the woman was left alone again. Like always, the tight cloth over her eyes couldn’t be removed, just as the collar around her neck couldn’t. 

As more days passed, Sakura’s spirit weakened further. She spent a lot of time praying to be rescued so that an innocent child wouldn’t be put in danger, especially one belonging to her sweet and gentle husband. There wasn’t a single moment where the princess wondered if Sasuke was searching for her. She knew he was. She just didn’t know if he’d make it in time. Now that her life wasn’t the only one on the line, Sakura wasn’t considering taking her own life. No, she was going to get out of here before giving birth, even if it meant having to do it all by herself. 

Sorry for the shorter chapter. I wanted to get an update out there since you’ve all been patiently waiting.

I just finished my last final on Friday, so I should go back to updating at least once a week going forward. Here’s to another school year completed!

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a follow up to that post where Magnus and Ragnor are talking about his interest in Alec? And Ragnor texted Alec to set up a meeting between them? I loved the Ragnor/Magnus relationship dynamic and would love to see more!

okay so no ragnor and magnus yet because magnus needs to get the first date (business meeting i mean) out of the way so he can go to Ragnor for more advice and to gush about it and so ragnor can watch (some) of his memories and tell Magnus what Magnus 'omg i want him' glasses aren't showing him. i do love team immortal however and Ragnor is not going to fail Magnus in helping him bag a shadowhunter! i hope you enjoy

-

Alexander meets him where Magnus tells him too and he comes alone. He’s clearly nervous, from where Magnus is watching him, but it’s not the kind of nervous that comes with a trap. It’s the kind that comes from someone who is nervous because they’re excited and afraid.

NEver before has Magnus been so grateful for Ragnor’s wisdom and how he won’t let Magnus accidentally sabotage himself.

“Alexander.” He says and he can’t help the warmth in his voice or the curl of eager delight on the vowels of Alexander’s name. “I’m pleased you’ve arrived so promptly.” He means it, because Alexander is half an hour early and he’s turning to Magnus with surprised softness and he smiles, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it and then he twitches and looks behind him and scowls.

“We’re not meeting here, right?” 

His voice is terse compared to how soft his smile was but Magnus tuts and waves a hand, opening a portal. 

“I would hardly have such a private conversation with such an esteemed—” he can’t help the way his eyes trail up and down Alexander’s body or that his mouth goes so dry he has to lick it, “guest. Come,” and he holds out his hand and it’s taken by a large warm hand, calloused fingers tangling with his own.

“Great, because we're either both being tailed by circle members. Or one of mine decided they want their ass kicked when I get back. More nephilim are coming.”

Magnus pulls him through the portal because he doesn’t care who it is, they are not interrupting his date!

Meeting.

The very important meeting that is so top secret he’s basically stolen away the Acting Head of the Institute and it’s primary commander. 

“How could you tell?” Magnus asks as Alexander looks around.

It’s a lovely room. All soft lights and glass windows and showing off the landscape of a country Magnus doesn’t think Alexander recognizes from the delight on his face. 

“Oh, I could smell them.” He says, like it’s common for nephilim to act like a vampire or werewolf. “I didn’t want to stick around long enough to see if they were familiar. I’ll know later, I updated our security protocols to active danger. No one leaves or comes into my Institute without me knowing.” 

“Practical.” Magnus compliments when he really wants to say, ‘delectable’ because the lighting highlights the dark curve of the rune on Alexander’s neck. “Now, shall we discuss things first? Get business out of the way for perhaps a more pleasurable time after.” 

Alexander looks confused and Magnus remembers Ragnors advice.

“I find you very interesting, Alexander.” Tempting even, Magnus thinks to himself, “I’ll admit I may have had some ulterior motives in getting you all to myself. Do you drink?”

“Uh, not during work.” And Alexander’s throat is bobbing, his eyes wide and almost panicked, “I— Magnus, I’m—”

“Hush darling,” Magnus can’t help but say and he presses a finger to Alexander’s lips and marvels as they kiss his skin in surprise. “You don’t have to pick just yet. Business first, pesky things out of our way and mind, and then decide?”

Alexander nods and then he sits down, across from Magnus with a little low table between them and Magnus stretches out, letting his body curve so that Alexander can’t look at him without seeing all of him.

It’s a little cruel, considering the wide eyed looks he’s getting and the blush on Alexander’s face.

However Magnus never promised not to tease.

They figure out terms and what they’ll need for the ritual and which ritual to use. Magnus has three for Alexander to pick from, carefully chosen between him and Ragnor.  They all need an anchor, an intimate connection that Magnus will establish between himself and another.

“Jace is going to want to be the anchor.” Alexander murmurs and Magnus laughs, shocked at the point.

“Well, too bad for blondie but he either listens to me and obeys my rules. Or dear friend Ms. Fray won't be getting her memories back and Alexander, the only anchor I will allow, is you.”

Alexander looks both pleased and a little disgusted and Magnus’ stomach curdles that he’d read this part of Alexander’s character so wrong.

“Is something the matter?” He asks, far cooler than he’s been this entire time but Alexander is apparently too distressed to notice.

“This anchor business, it’s not going to tie me to Fray, is it?”

Magnus blinks, waiting for the punchline and then he smiles and purrs, “no, Alexander. The only connection you’ll have is the one with me.”

Alexander seems to miss the connotations because he practically melts in relief and he drains the cup of iced tea he’s been drinking.

“Oh thank the angel.” He mutters and he gives Magnus a look of such pure appreciation that Magnus is stunned. “I’m not sure I could have agreed otherwise.”

Magnus quietly sets out the documents for signatures, more than a little surprised by just how well this is going and he’s a bit worried that Alexander is going to ask to leave as soon as they're done.

Instead, his shadowhunter seals with signature, blood and a personal rune carved into the paper with a stele in a delicate twist of lines. 

“And now?”

“And now, to pleasure.” Magnus charms, summoning two drinks and holding one out, “to us and our future partnerships?”

“Uh, to us.” Alexander agrees with a charming curl of his lips and a brightness that reaches his eyes as he hesitantly clinks his glass with Magnus’.

The face he makes at the taste is so delightfully sweet that Magnus has to hide away a chuckle and he reaches out, plucking the glass away and twirling it until it changes to a smooth, icy plum.

“Try this,” he offers and without thinking, he steps over the table and leans close, pressing Alexander against the back of the chair with the drink pressed to his lips.

Alexander looks like the thought of denying Magnus never crosses his mind as he opens his mouth and takes a sip.

It stains his lips dark and shiny and Magnus feels hunger awakening as Alexander gives him a softer look, full of wonder.

“It’s good.” Like he’s surprised and awed that Magnus cared he didn’t like the first drink.

“Perfect.” Magnus is going to make sure that Alexander enjoys every single moment of their time together, “now, darling. What do you like to eat?”

[cartierdreamx]

Hacked into you - 3 (AU)

Hi guys! Hope you’re doing well and your week has been great, here’s a longer chapter that I definitely enjoyed writing and that you guys deserve, something mention here (the car) in the chapter is confusing if you don’t know Watchdogs lore but a quick google search should fix that!! To keep me writing, I am so down to take requests for Jenna or any of her characters so if you would like to send in a request or just to talk to me, feel free to!! Anyways, I hope you enjoy <333

READ PART 2  PART 1

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing (that’s it I’m pretty sure)

*I plan to write smut in this story and it does have some dark themes like violence involved, the game itself was rated MA15+ where I am from (might be different depending which country you are in) so my fic will be 18+ because I am involving more adult themes, if you do choose to proceed, please keep that in mind*

BLOND - 3

What’s the CTO of Blume doing here at 3am on a jog? run? Hell, I don’t care, only thing I care about is trying to figure out where he placed the tracker, he takes me for a fool, but the rich white man underestimates me yet again, after collecting myself, I shake off the sand and see Jenna squinting her eyes at me, trying to decipher what just happened.

“Woah, are you okay b?” B? Babe, baby, bitch, either way a little lightning bolt electrifies my heart as if I needed to be revived.

“Yeah, yeah, that was Nemec”.

“Shit. SHIT. Fuck, what’s he doing here? And so close to Dedsec, he never gets this close, nor does he do his own dirty work”.

She’s hyperventilating, well about to.

I step closer to her and extend my arm, allowing her to grab on if she’s willing, to my surprise she takes it in an instant and pulls herself into my chest. I couldn’t help but to me taken a back, but I don’t pull away, I place one hand on her head and the other running across her shoulder blades, she smells of vanilla and apples, warm, like home. Y/N snap out of it, she’s not yours.

“Hey shhhh, I’m here love, it’s okay, you’re okay, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Her breathing slows but deepens, indicating that she’s calming down, I’m glad I can give her some comfort.

“Would you like to go get food or do you wanna stay like this for a bit longer?”

“Just a bit longer, please”.

We stay like this for around 5 minutes, it was comforting, she was comforting, and I didn’t think I needed it, she was waves of healing, like the ones that spoke to us on the beach.

“Thank you, y/n”.

“It’s really no worries, Jen”.

By this time, I was fully sober and so was she, I was sober enough to drive and vice versa, but I was craving that drive and I wanted Jenna to relax and focus on staying warm than figuring out the cars and roads. Now, obviously I don’t have my car, blindfolded was the transportation I took to get here, however when a single click of a button on my phone, an electric car around me clicks open. It was a sleek, batman black, asteria prime. It was an instinct to open the door for Jenna, on the way in, she winks at me and slides her hand past my waist. There was no alcohol in my system but her presence, weakens my knees and system, the way fermented yeast did. Once I hop into the driver’s seat and press the button for engine start, I can see Jenna shivering a little, she’ll never admit it but my eyes never deceive me, so, I turn on the heater and seat warmers allowing her raise her body temperature.

Being in this car with her raises the unspoken tension between us once more, so I decide to turn the radio on. I realise putting on RnB would only raise the tension but I can’t help it, it’s my favourite music genre and it is heaven to my ears, the slow melody that massages every nerve in your body to the soft yet sharp voice of the artist you’re singing, nothing beats RnB and it’s sub categories. As I reach for the touchscreen displaying Spotify, Jenna reaches her hand towards it to, our pointers touch.

“You’re so warm, I need you”.

“Me?” I knew what she meant, you as in my warmth, not the warmness of my soul but my physicality, my warm skin, the way my blood rises to warm me up. Ever since I was young I was able to warm myself up easily, I never knew the reason but I couldn’t complain, it’d be the coldest winters but my hands and face never knew glaciers, the cold wasn’t welcomed upon my skin. I knew what she meant but I couldn’t help but smirk and allow the butterflies to set in, her comment made me grasp the steering wheel even tighter.

“Not you- well, I, I meant, you but” before she could finish I cut her off to save her the embarrassment, I can’t lie though, I enjoyed it and I will not be living it down.

I chuckle, “well, well, well, now look who’s stuttering”.

“Shut up, it’s just cold”.

“Mmhmh, whatever makes you sleep at night, relax Jen, I know what you mean, I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I’ve just been able to do this all my life, my friends would grab my hands and place them on their cheeks to warm them up”.

“Cheeks, huh?”. She smirks.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“Hmmmm maybe, but I like seeing you flustered”.

“Careful Ms Jenna wouldn’t want people to think you’re flirting with me”.

“Flirt? With you? Never!” She exclaims, letting out a dramatic gasp. “Okay y/n, put your music on, let’s see, put on the wrong music and I’m jumping out the car”.

“Oh, well then I think you should just jump out the car honestly.”

“HEY!” She hisses and hitting me in my sternum, causing us both to laugh and wipe our eyes as they started filling with water.

I knew exactly what to put on, I needed something cruisy, but deep enough that it talks to both of us. Frank Ocean. Specifically, Ivy, from his albumb Blond, my favourite album of his.

The first line sings, I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me, the start of nothing.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I LOVE FRANK, YOU TOO????”

“Anyone given the gift of life should”.

“Well, I guess I just might stay in the car then”.

‘WELLLLLLLLLL” I shrieked.

“Whaaattttttttttt?”

We’re here, right outside a McDonalds, just what we needed after a long night, the bright M logo is lowkey blinding us but the light illuminates her face even more, she exults a beauty no words can grasp, but the soft yellow light upon her skin from the softens my muscles, every knot undone. Driving up to the speaker box, I know exactly what I want.

“Jen, what would you like?”

“Whatever you order, b”.

“Aren’t you pescatarian? I will most definitely not be eating a fillet o fish”.

“Technically yeah, but I can be flexible, within reason, and tonight is within reason”.

“Alright, well I could eat the entire store so be ready”.

“This lil lady can eat”.

“Alrightttttt”.

Hi! What can I get for you tonight?

Hi! Could I please get 2 double cheeseburger meals, no pickles, large and coke and sprite for the drink

Sure thing! Anything else?

Yes, could I also get 40 nuggets with sweet and sour sauce and big mac sauce with that, that’ll be all thanks!

Sure, no problem, drive down to the next window, thanks.

After arriving at the window, I pull out my wallet to pay but Jenna grabs my wrist.

“Uhhhh, what do you think you’re doing b, you’re not paying, you’ve already done enough tonight”.

“Nope, I’m not letting you pay”. Swiftly paying before she lets out another word.

“Damn, you’re slick” I wink at her and click my tongue. “Okay, but next time, I’m paying”.

“Mhmhm, not gonna happen”.

I drive to the last window to collect our food, as soon as they open their drive thru window to pass out our food I can smell the oil, the signature smell of McDonalds, the shoestring fries with a linger of salt. I can’t like, my mouth nearly starts salivating, though, there could be another reason I’m salivating, and she’s sitting right next to me.

Here’s your food, enjoy!

Thank you so much.

Now we have our food, I place it on Jenna’s lap and quickly catch her stealing a fry or two, I giggle, knowing damn well the temptation was there, and if I was in her position, I would have done the same. I have no clue where to go but I reckon home is where we should head. I say home as if souls and bodies embrace my apartment, but I’m young, single, and unavailable, in a sense that I don’t technically exist anymore. I am alive, breathing, living, everything but, everything I was, is now not everything I am, the same body, yet different minds, mind over matter and my heart above all.

“Where are we headed now? Ms Uber”.

“You think you’re so funny don’t you”.

“Just a bit”.

“Don’t mean to burst your bubble butttttt”.

She stares me down, giving me an iconic Kubrick stare.

“But what”.

“Hehe, but nothing”.

“Mhmhm, that’s what I thought, b”.

Something about b. One syllable, not even a word, and right now I don’t even know what it means, b to me could be different to her, she could be calling me bitch for all I know. Usually time goes fast when you’re having fun and when you’re with the right company, but with Jenna, with her. Time is nothing but us.

“Okay, before you kill me, we’re headed to my apartment”.

“What an honour”.

“Hmmm, maybe, I don’t know, I’ve had plenty of girls over”. I smirk, taking a hit on her, the smartass in me had my ears raised, and before I could say another word, I feel a warm sting on my stomach.

“OW, JENNA, what was that for?!”

“For trying to be a smartass”.

“Oh” I test my luck and shoot one more hit, “you know jealously is not a good look on you”.

“I’m not jealous, y/n”.

“Mhmhm whatever you say, anyways we are hereeeeee”.

“Finally, if it took any longer, I would’ve jumped out of the car”.

“Okay Ms big mouth, I’m the one with the key to the apartment”.

“Hm yeah? Well, I’m the pretty girl” she clocks at me whilst getting out of the car.

I stay in the car for a few seconds and giggle a little while turning off the car, honestly if I knew Dedsec would comprise of this, of Jenna, I would have joined a lot faster, it’s silly, I know but sometimes I think maybe I could have a chance at a normal life, a wife and kids, living with pride about who we are as a LGBTQ+ family, and maybe it could be her. I shut my eyes hard and and let out a sigh, that’s all that it is, a thought, a fantasy, a dream out of reach. It’s not my life, and honestly all this vigilante work and Dedsec is my life, it’s here in the palms of my hands, and I’ve worked too hard to let it go.

“Y/nnnnnnnnnnnn, if you don’t get your ass out here now I am going to find your apartment door and knock it down”.

“Okay, okay, the princess gets what she wants”.

“Yeah, she does”. She winks at me.

We walk into the lobby and Alfred; the doorman greets me.

“Good morning, Ms y/n, ma’am”.

“Good Morrow, Alfred”.

Jenna smiles at him and chucks a good morning to him as well.

“In the Dedsec world, where no one knows your name or face, who is he? No judgement at all, I was just curious” Jenna remarks as the doors open for the elevator and I press the top number and place my key card on the reader that will let us up. I look away from her face, looking anywhere but her, probably the first time tonight I did.

“I’m sorry, it’s okay you don’t have to open up to me, I didn’t mean to cross a line”.  

I immediately look up at her with my mouth in an O shape.

“Oh, Jen, no, it’s okay, please don’t apologise, you did nothing wrong at all and don’t worry I do want to tell you”. I take a deep breath and let my heart talk.

“I know how dangerous this life is, I knew the risk but Alfred, he’s the only family I have, well have left anyway, I broke ties from my family years ago and started living here, yeah they were blood but what choice did I have when the blood was drowning me and water was all I had left? I took this apartment, it was the only thing I took from them and Alfred, knowing me since then, became my family and after deciding what I wanted to do, what I wanted to join, I couldn’t just leave him behind, not when he was the only thing I had, when I had nothing”.

I take deep breaths, making sure no tears escape my ducts but one stubborn one escapes, I go to wipe it off but a small, soft, warm beats me to it.

“Hey b, thank you for opening up, I feel honoured, and I understand you completely, I’m here now, we’re here now, Dedsec is your family, you are one of us, and I promise you nothing is going to happen to Alfred, or you, I won’t let that even be a thought”.

“Thank you”.

That was another time where the 4th dimension was non-existent, but alas, the elevator door dings and finally opens. I hear a loud gasp which makes a smile break.

“Fuck, did Oprah join Dedsec?”

“Haha, I’m glad you’re amused, welcome to my humble abode”.

“HUMBLE? Y/N THIS IS BIGGER THAN ANY DEDSEC HACKERSPACE WE HAVE, WHO ARE YOU, WHO IS YOUR FAMILY”.

“Now, sweet one, that is for you to find out, quick get over here before your food gets ice cold”.

After a good 20 minutes of eating, chewing, and a lot of “Oh my God, I needed this”. We were both collapsed on the couch, in a food coma about to pass out. At this time of night, well morning, I offer to Jenna just to stay the night instead.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, there’s a guest bedroom over there to the right and the closest is filled with spare clothes if you need, toiletries and other things are in the dresser”.

“You’re too kind”.

“Always”.

“But first, let me see your room, I bet it’s bigger than my brain could even think”.

I lead her towards the bedroom and open my door, instead of a gasp I hear a-

“SHIT”.

“Impressed?”

“Very, hmm you know, in another life where I’m a world renown actress, this could be mine”.

I laugh, “I believe that Ms Jenna”.

“Ortega, my last name is Ortega”.

She opened up, it may not seem like much, but Dedsec members are super secretive about personal information, it’s better that way, it’s for protection, I mean our faces and names are wiped off the system anyway, but caution is taken. I smile at her and nod.

“Mines l/n, y/n l/n”.

“Well, nice to meet you Ms y/n l/n”.

“Likewise, Ms Jenna Ortega”.

“Now seeing that you’re sitting on your very comfortable looking bed, I’m assuming you’re about to pass out so I’ll leave you to it”.

She starts heading towards the door, but before she opens it to head out, my subconscious takes over me and becomes my conscious.

“Wait”.

She turns back with wide eyes.

“Stay”.

[lipstickitty]

I Wanna Be Yours

Chapter Six

1.6k+ words

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS GO AWAY!! demon!reader, angst, anxiety, teasing, mentions of sex, language, fluff, dirty talk, needy jake, cocky jake, pet names, flirting

You had agreed to meet Jake’s family but the closer that day got, the more your anxiety built. You had never met a man’s family before. What if you made an absolute fool of yourself and him? But every time you would voice your concerns to Jake, he’d shut it down, assuring you that his brothers will love you. Finally the night came, and you were stood in front of your mirror finishing up getting ready.

“Jakey, what should I wear?” You groan, digging through your closet for what must be the hundredth time.

“Love, you’re overthinking it. Finish your makeup and I’ll pick you something out.” You decide not to argue with him, figuring if it’s terrible you can just pick something else. You make your way back into the bedroom after putting the finishing touches on your makeup to see the outfit Jake picked out for you.

He’d chosen a simple, long sleeved black dress that fell slightly above your knees, some short black ankle boots, and a simple cardigan to throw on overtop if you got cold. To top it all off, it complements his all black ensemble perfectly. You felt your heart swell with love for him, he had picked something cute and comfy that you could feel good in even though you were nervous about meeting his brothers.

“You did good, baby. I’m impressed.” You give him a sweet kiss, making him hum against your lips.

“Mmm, how impressed?” He teases, tugging your body into his and breathing you in.

“So impressed that I wanna blow you right here, right now. If only we had more time before we have to meet your brothers.” You huff an exaggerated sigh, giggling when his brows pinch together.

“Oh, you’re a tease. Get my cock all hard for you and now we have to leave? Okay y/n, I’ll remember that later.” He leans in to nip at your jaw, “better get dressed now, baby. Can’t keep my brothers waiting, right?” He whispers in your ear, giggling and breaking free from your hold when you try to turn his head and pull him to you for a kiss. You groan out loud, getting dressed but playfully glaring at him the whole time.

Jake opens up your car door for you, buckling your seatbelt for you also and lets his touch linger on your skin for just a moment too long. He walks around and gets in on the drivers side, putting his right arm around your headrest while he backs out of the driveway, then moves it to about halfway up your thigh.

As Jake drives to the same place he’d taken you to for dinner and drinks before, he slowly inches his hand further and further up your thigh. As torturous as it is, you refuse to react. You pretend he’s having no effect on you, and it’s driving him crazy.

“Baby…” Jake whines. “Pay attention to me…” you chuckle at the neediness in his tone.

“Oh, did you want some attention, Jakey? Why ever would I give you that?”

“Because I want it, and you love to give me what I want.” He sounds so sure of himself. The cocky tone in his voice immediately has you wanting to clench your thighs together but you still manage to keep a straight face.

“Jacob, if you do get what you want tonight, it won’t be for quite a long time. Be good and let’s have a good time with your brothers, then maybe I’ll let you make me cum when we get home. Keep being a tease and I’ll tie you up and make you watch me get myself off.” You pat his cheek lightly before unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car, leaving him stunned in the drivers seat.

You wait outside the car for Jake but open the drivers side door up when he doesn’t join you after a minute or two. “Jake?” You ask, confused.

“I need a minute y/n.” He grumbles, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Jake. I didn’t mean to upset you.” You reach for his hand, misunderstanding his being quiet for him being upset with you.

“Y/n. I just need a minute before I stand up so my brothers don’t see what you talking about tying me up and getting yourself off does to me. We’re okay, I love you, angel.” Jake squeezes your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Now that I got my mind off of it, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Come on, pretty boy.” You giggle, using your grip on his hand to pull him up and out of the car. The two of you walk inside hand in hand, making your way over to where you see 2 men that very closely resemble Jake, and a third who you assume is Danny, not related by blood but a brother nonetheless.

“Boys, this is y/n. Y/n these are my brothers, Josh, Sam, and Danny.” Jake introduces everyone, pointing to each of the boys as he names them off.

“Y/n it’s so nice to meet you, Jake hasn’t shut the fuck up about you since you met.” Sam laughs, making Jake’s cheeks turn a little bit pink.

“Aw, Jakey, you talked about me? Not all bad, I hope?” You giggle in return.

“Not bad at all, in fact my dear, all he’s done is sing your praises. He didn’t tell me how stunning you are though. If you ever grow tired of my lesser half, come and find me.” Josh says with a wink. It’s pretty obvious to you that he’s only joking but you don’t miss the way Jake’s face turns red and his jaw clenches.

“Y/n I’m gonna go get drinks, what would you like my love? Sam, Danny? Josh, would you please come help me carry?” Jake asks with a forced smile. He gets everyone’s drink orders and nods for Josh to follow him.

“Josh, what the fuck are you doing? I bring a girl around that I really care about and you’re instantly trying to get in her pants?” Jake asks quietly while they wait on the drinks.

Josh barks out a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Dude, you need to take a breath. She’s beautiful but I’d never actually do anything. You have my word. Besides, she’s barely even looked away from you since you walked in here. It’s just a little harmless flirting. I’m sorry it made you so uncomfortable. If anything, Sam’s the one you gotta watch. You know how he is around older women.” He jokes.

Jake snorts at that, thinking Josh has no fucking idea how right he is. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way towards you, I just got a little crazy because… well, I love her.” He gets quiet towards the end.

“Yeah, I know. I can read you like a book. Did you think you were being subtle?” Josh laughs.

“Fuck off, help me carry these.” Jake picks up 3 of the drinks, leaving Josh to carry the other 2. Jake hands you your vodka cranberry first, then sets down his own whiskey and coke and whatever beer Sam and Danny are sipping on. Josh sets down the other two drinks and insists on a toast.

“To new friends, new lovers, and everyone in the bar looking to get laid tonight!” Josh shouts, cheersing everyone and then taking a big swig of his tequila soda.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Jake laughs, resting his hand on your thigh and jumping into conversation with his brothers like nothing had ever happened.

The drinks and conversation are both flowing freely, there’s never an awkward pause or uncomfortable silence. You’re getting along with Jake’s brothers wonderfully. Sam has your sides hurting from laughter and Danny doesn’t speak up all that often but when he does it’s usually something really insightful and brilliant. Josh is telling you all kinds of stories about him and Jake as kids, the crazy antics they got into pretending to be each other and everything else.

By the end of the night, everyone is feeling sufficiently smashed and no one feels comfortable to drive. Sam and Danny agree to stay with Josh, so you and Jake make sure the three of them get into their Uber safely and then sit in your car as you wait for your own Uber to pull up.

“I had a really great time tonight, y/n. I knew it would be fine but I didn’t anticipate you talking and laughing with everyone like you’d known all of us for years. Thank you for agreeing to do this for me.” Jake mumbles with his lips against the top of your head.

“I had so much fun, baby. What happened with you and Josh, though?”

“You caught that, huh?” He asks sheepishly. You just nod, waiting for him to explain. “I know it was stupid. I think I knew it was stupid when I did it. I just got so jealous for a moment that someone else was saying those things about you, I forgot to think about the fact that neither you nor Josh would do that.”

“Jake, what I said about Josh the other day- that was a joke, I just wanted to get you all possessive and cocky. I belong to you, you know that right?” You ask, holding his gaze.

“I know, angel.” He grabs your hand, opening the door to the Uber and helping you inside before walking around to the other side. “Now let’s get home so you can show me I’m yours too.” He whispers in your ear.

Tags: @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @gracev0609 @clairesjointshurt

[footy-fictionist]

This is it - Julian Brandt

Pairing: Julian Brandt x female Schlotterbeck reader, Nico Schlotterbeck x sister reader, Karim Adeyemi x ex-girlfriend reader

Warnings: fluff, nervousness, some awkwardness, bit of jealous Julian, hurting a little bit, Jule's yellow card

Word count: 1737

Note: As always, English is not my first language. This is the third part of my Julian series. Is this it? and This might be it are the first two parts. I don't know any of the players personally. This is completely fictional. Please do not copy or publish my work, reblogging is fine. (I also just have to mention how good Julian looks in this gif!!!)

The game against Leipzig is supposed to be an intense one and she just can’t sit still. It didn’t help that she is being watched by both of Julian’s brothers and Karim’s family. She doesn’t know what they are thinking, but she can only hope there won’t be a confrontation. Before the game she managed to share a look with Julian, she didn’t dare do more than smile at him. Both the eyes on her back and the way that Karim was beside Julian, made her a little nervous. She’s not sure Karim saw her and she shouldn’t care because she doesn’t love him anymore. And still it makes her nervous.

She jumps a little when just before kick off, someone sits beside her. When she looks to her right, she locks eyes with Karim. Since she didn’t really keep up with everything anymore, she missed that he was injured. She only noticed when he walked onto the field with Julian in his normal clothes. She looks away from him and shifts a little uneasily. He doesn’t say anything at first and honestly, she has no clue what to say to him either. She hasn’t seen him in months and the last time they talked, she broke up with him for cheating on her. 

He doesn't say anything at first, he just looks her over. She knows he's trying to discover how she's feeling based on her body language. She's pretty sure he sees that she's nervous. But she doesn't respond to it and focuses on the game. Julian is running around the pitch with quite a bit of speed. Getting passes in through any opening he sees. It makes her proud that he's doing so well. But then someone else sits on her other side. Or should she say two people take to her left side. Julian's younger brothers have taken a seat on her left side. She's not sure why, she's never spoken to them before. But somehow she thinks that they're now sitting next to her for back up, just in case. So she smiles at both of the boys, who smile back at her warmly. 

"So you've decided to get into football again?" It's more of a rhetorical question but she answers it anyway.

"I've always been into football. I've seen all of Nico's games." 

"You know that's not what I mean. So, you and Brandt huh. How did that happen?" 

"Not that it should matter to you, but I bumped into him a few weeks ago. We've been close ever since. I hadn't seen him in months since I cut everyone off after breaking up with you for cheating on me."

She knew she was being very straightforward and maybe even a little harsh. Karim flinched a little when she mentioned the break up. He purses his lips a little as he looks back at the field. And just then Julian scores a goal and it's a beautiful one at that. She immediately jumps up to cheer, his younger brothers cheering with her and even giving her a hug. But during the hug there is the announcement that the goal has been ruled out by VAR. But before she pulls away, Jannis whispers something in her ear.

"If you need us to help or intervene, just squeeze my arm a little and we'll help."

She softly thanks him and then pulls back to sit back down. Karim is watching her again, but he doesn't really say anything else. During the rest of the first half, Karim is silent and she doesn't make an effort to talk to him. She does talk to Jannis and Jascha though. During the first half Marco Reus is given a penalty, which he scores and soon after Emre Can makes a beautiful goal! When it's halftime, she sees Julian look up at her in the stands and he smiles. She smiles back but when he looks to the side, his smile leaves. She knows he sees Karim and she wishes she could just reassure him.

She gets up to use the restroom. Once there she also takes the time to take a deep breath. As she walks out, she finds Karim leaning against the wall opposite the restroom. She wants to walk away when he softly grabs her by the elbow. She halts in her steps, but doesn't do much else. She knows he wants her to turn around, but she doesn't until he asks her to. As she turns to him, she sees the almost sad look in his eyes.

"Does he make you happy?" She's a little confused as to why he's asking, but she confirms that Julian makes her happy. 

He heaves a big sigh. "Then I won't intervene. I wanted to tell you for so long that I still love you, but I understand that I hurt you way too much and that Julian makes you happy. Would it be okay for us to be friends? Maybe not immediately but over time?"

She doesn't know why but she's a little surprised. She didn't think Karim loved her anymore, not after the cheating. But she sees how sorry he is and the pain in his eyes. So she agrees, she tells him that they won't go to immediate friends and that she's willing to give him time to get over her. They walk back to their seats, talking about the last few months. Jannis and Jascha give her a questioning look and she lets them know everything is okay. As the second half starts, they see a bit of change in Julian. He plays a bit more fiercely than the first half and that's proven when he gets a yellow card. Which is quite surprising because he usually doesn't get a card often. She's a little worried it has to do with her and Karim. She can confirm it when he looks their way right after the card.

Julian sees her worried looks, but doesn't take it as concern. He sees it as disappointment and drops his head down. He can't believe he let the emotions get to him, when he knows she'd never take Karim back. He tries to play like he did in the first half, tries to score again, but it isn't working in his favour. In the 74th minute they concede a goal and Julian is cursing the way he plays. And about 10 minutes later he is subbed off. He doesn't even dare look up at the stands. 

She keeps glancing at the bench and the field. Nico is still on the field defending and he's definitely saved the team with his shoulder. But she worries about Julian. Karim had gone to stand a bit closer to the field and that way she could finally introduce herself formally to Jannis and Jascha. But Karim isn’t that far away so she definitely hears Karim's scream of 'FÜNF' when he hears the amount of added time. It makes her laugh for sure, but doesn't completely take away her worries. 

"Will he be okay?" She asks Jannis the question that's been plaguing her mind.

"He'll be fine. I'm sure he's worried about you, like you are about him.”

Jannis’ words comforted her a little. When the final whistle sounded, she saw Julian get back on the field to thank the fans for the support. In the meantime she decided to head to the tunnel to meet him there once he gets off the field. After a few minutes a few players come down the tunnel. Nico is one of them and she immediately congratulates him. He gives her a hug and a kiss on the forehead before heading to the changing room. It took Julian a little longer to walk down the tunnel. It takes him a minute to spot her and when he does, he grimaces. She doesn’t know why that is, but she approaches him anyway. She goes to wrap her arms around his neck, but he dodges her hug. She immediately intertwines her fingers and pulls her arms closer to her. She knows she can’t hide the hurt look on her face and when he looks at her face he notices. His face drops when he sees it and he immediately goes to wrap his arms around her waist, but this time she steps back.

“I’m sorry. I’m ashamed. My goal didn’t count and then I saw you with Karim and jealousy completely took over and then I got that yellow in the second half and continued to play bad whilst you were here for me. And now I’m already hurting you and you haven’t even been my girlfriend for 24 hours.”

Julian goes to continue his rambling when she goes to wrap her arms around his neck again. He immediately stops talking and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her as close to him as he can. She kisses his cheek and runs her hand through the strands of his hair. They’re a little damp with sweat still, but she doesn’t care at all. All she wants to do is comfort him and show him that it’s alright. She clings to him just as much as he does to her.

“It’s okay. Everything between Karim and I is settled and there is absolutely nothing you have to worry about. You were brilliant today, it doesn’t matter if your goal counted or if you got a yellow card and didn’t play as well anymore. I’m yours and hopefully I’ll be yours for a long long time.” 

Julian pulls back a little, but he still has a tight hold on her waist. His eyes rake over her face and he sees no lies in them, just admiration. He puts his forehead on hers and she puts one of her hands on his jaw, the other still around his shoulders. She leans up slowly and presses a soft kiss to his lips. It’s their first kiss and honestly, it’s everything they both hoped for. They don’t notice anything but each other. They only pull away once they hear a lot of whistling. When Julian looks over her shoulder and she looks back, they find Nico, Jannis and Jascha laughing at them whilst whistling. Even Karim joins in. She turns back to Julian and presses another kiss on his lips. This is it, everything they both hoped for and probably more.

[mothgoats]

tw

this year has been the longest and worst fucking year in ages. and it just keeps piling up. I finally moved to a safe, quiet apartment and my dogs behavioral issues from being attacked/harassed by the old neighbors dogs are causing issues faster than I can get him trained.

as in, he barked at the neighbor downstairs once and they decided he “lunged” at them (we were walking up the stairs and they, below us, opened their door and the noise scared him. How exactly can the dog lunge there?). Landlord called me Tuesday about it and I emailed them later with receipts of the dog trainer I’ve hired and all the precautions I’m taking to avoid any interactions with other tenants because I don’t want any accidental bites etc but I don’t know if they’re counting the false complaint against me or not. They still haven’t responded so .. don’t know how much I should be stressing but I broke a blood vessel in my eye because I’m so fucking afraid my dog will get taken away. he cannot live without me. he has epilepsy and needs to finish his rehab program and then he should be fine and a nonissue - but I don’t know that the neighbors won’t continue to complain any time they feel they don’t like that a German shepherd lives in the building (I brought up that it seems like they just don’t like GSDS because I’ve never interacted with them). Yes, he’s registered as an ESA. But that doesn’t override that the landlord can order removal of an animal if it’s a danger to other tenants. Ie, people complain.

Put that on top of how this whole year went, and I just. I’m so fucking tired. I feel like everything I’m fighting is on my own.. because it is. I don’t have anyone to help me know if I’m doing the right thing or just give me a damn hug sometimes. Or a well done.

It feels like ages ago now but just earlier this year I was panicking on where I would live because my bf at the time wanted me to move in with him but ignored the behavioral issues of my dog (basically wanted him living in a closet instead of targeting the issues). then my friend was murdered the day after my birthday. I was sexually assaulted around the same time. I spent the entire summer without air conditioning relying on a window unit in a house full of water and mold. I had to do my entire move on my own minus one day I had my old roommate to help move furniture.

my old roommate who was my ex from a year ago and would constantly bicker with his boyfriend in the house who he cheated on me with so, that was great. loved that too.

Not sleeping anymore because any time I start falling asleep my body goes into fight or flight thinking I’m going to be assaulted again. Propanolol and Xanax only do so much. I’m on 6 hours of sleep over 2 days because I’ve been having panic attacks about the possibility of fenrir getting taken away.

I don’t know what I would do. I just am spending every moment with him like the world outside the apartment is a nuclear apocalypse and avoiding people until I can trust he is less reactive. I wish it weren’t that way. We were doing so well. Now we play down the street so the neighbors won’t complain about us existing in the hallway. I don’t know, I’m just scared.

There’s not many laws protecting dog owners from false accusations. It’s pretty much, if someone complains, you are liable. Whether the claim is substantiated or not. People keep telling me to look into a lawyer to be safe, like? I can’t even afford to feed myself rn. My fridge is empty because I needed to prioritize the dog training.

I can’t sell my art online because I don’t have a computer to write Etsy listings etc. my phone is dying too and I can’t afford to replace that. I didn’t really even break even my last 3 events I vended at. fuck. I just want someone to tell me it’ll be fine and mean it.

[capri851]

Another idea

btw the POV goes from third person to second person at the end, my bad

hear me out:

Sun and Moon are separate animatronics who get involved with the military, falling in love with their commander (i think that’s the rank. i’m not too educated on the military tbh), Y/N, who dies at the end.

Let me explain:

So this begins after Moon attacks an employee, brutally murdering them. This happens because he has the virus. Now, the press hears about this, of course, and it goes viral, Fazbear Entertainment getting a lot of attention. The military gets hold of this info (i’m gonna say they got it from the attention on social media and news), and decide to buy Moon. During this time, there’s a war going on.

Military sees Moon as an advantage, since he’s a robot, one that can be dangerous. Because they see him as a robot, they think that he won’t experience the trauma of war and won’t get tired, and can be rebuilt again and again.

In the Plex, Moon is getting the virus out of him, and when it is, he is obviously distraught, hiding away in his room with Sun. Sun tries to comfort him, hugging him and telling him that it wasn’t him who killed the employee.

When the time comes for Moon to be shut down to be taken to the military base, Sun tries his hardest to prevent it. Due to them having the same body, just different looks, it is revealed that Sun has the same abilities as Moon when he gets too aggressive with the P&S employees.

The employees, seeing this as a money grab, decide to shut down Sun as well. Unfortunately, the employees had stun batons with them, so they used it on Sun. Moon was cowering in the corner, wanting to do something to help Sun, but unable to, the sight of the mutilated employee at the forefront of his mind.

The two are shut down and brought to the base. They’re both bought when the military is informed that Sun has the same abilities of Moon.

Here’s where Y/N comes in. Y/N is tasked with showing Sun and Moon how war goes, the vocabulary, titles, how to use guns, etc. When Y/N is doing this, they believe that it should be quite simple for the ex-attendants to get. They see them as just robots, things that should be able to easily follow orders. When this doesn’t happen, they get short with them, snapping at them and being an ass.

Then, one day, during one of the lessons of how to load a gun and where the best places were to aim, a video is used. Of course, a real person couldn’t be used as an example, and a dummy wouldn’t have served well, so the next best course of action was a hyper-realistic animation. Seeing this, Moon is once again reminded of what happened when he had the virus, causing him to leave the room as fast as he could, hugging himself. Sun follows him, knowing the reason.

Y/N, chasing them and feeling annoyed, catch up to them after losing them for a second. They’re greeted with the sight of Moon curled into himself, the LEDs on his eyes making him teary-eyed. Sun is there, whispering that they’ll get out of there, he’ll make sure of it. This whole situation makes Y/N pause and think. Are they more human than they look? Can they experience trauma like a person? It certainly looks like it.

Y/N, now feeling guilty for being so harsh, walks away. They know the reason as to why Sun and Moon are there, but there isn’t anything to be done about that. It’s not like the two can be returned to Fazbears, and they can’t get a life they choose to live.

The next time the three are together, Y/N makes sure to be gentle, more patient. Eventually, the three become friends. Moon is still uncomfortable with the lessons, but he braves through them. He and Sun have come to accept that there’s no out to this, that they have to do this.

Y/N is very understanding throughout this process, secretly wishing they could do something about it. As their friendship deepens, feelings start to form. There would be lingering touches, one staring at the other when they’re not looking.

One day, Y/N is called to the battlefield. The mission they were going to go on was high-risk, meant for people of high ranking. Y/N had to go, but Sun and Moon refused it. They begged that they come with them, but when that didn’t work, they threatened to run away. No matter how hard they tried, nothing would change Y/N’s mind. Y/N was afraid that they’d lose both or one of the attendants on the field, while the attendants were afraid to lose Y/N.

Instead of pleading some more with Y/N on this matter, they go to the higher ups, explaining that they can be useful, able to use the abilities they were bought for. Of course, they don’t actually want to use them, but they would if it meant to protect Y/N. The higher ups accept this idea, sending them off to join the others.

Upon seeing them in the group, Y/N has to do a double-take. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Before either of the attendants could say anything, Y/N yells at them, saying “what are you doing here?! you can’t be here!” and the like. Due to the volume they were yelling at, another officer came by and informed Y/N why they were there. Y/N argues back, but is silenced by someone of higher rank.

On the battlefield, it’s a tense fight. The enemy side is winning, having more soldiers and weapons. Here comes the reason why this mission needed high ranking soldiers: someone was going to plant a bomb, which would take out many of the enemy soldiers, distracting them. This would give Y/N’s side an advantage, and win the war. Problem is, the planter has to be stealthy and quick. They can also be affected by the explosion, which of course would be a bad thing.

Hearing the plan, Moon was going to volunteer, reasoning that he can be stealthy due to his flexibility and quick, but Y/N snatches the bomb before he can. The other commanders allow Y/N to do the task, planning to use Sun and Moon as a shield against bullets and for close combat. The two object, but are silenced by a zap of electricity coming from a tazer from one of the commanders.

Y/N takes off, sneaking around the guards, killing some when they can’t, and finally planting the bomb. They instantly turn around, but is grabbed by one of the enemy soldiers. They fight the attacker off, succeeding and running away, but it was too late.

The bomb explodes, the impact making Y/N be thrown somewhere. They landed with a broken arm, a deep wound in their head. Someone was near them, another enemy soldier. The feeling of a bullet entering their skull never comes, warm hands holding them up. They hear someone-- no, someones talking, but they can’t make it out. They’re in terrible pain, and there’s ringing in their ears. Opening their eyes, they see that it’s Sun and Moon who are talking to them.

Sun has his hands pressing against the head wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Moon was wiping the tears from Y/N’s face, telling them that everything will be okay. Planning to keep his promise, he picks them up. The two run as fast as they can to the nurses, but they’re too slow.

Y/N’s finding it harder and harder to keep their eyes open, breath slowing. Sun, using his scanners, notice that their heart rate is slowing down. “Come on! They’re dying, Moon! Please, run!” He’s terrified for you. He doesn’t want to lose you, he can’t imagine what life would be like without you there.

The sound of gunshots and the yelling of commands fill the background, but no one is listening to it. Sun and Moon are focused on Y/N as they lift their hand up, their breaths shaky. “It’s. . . okay. Just, set me down here. Get. . .” They take a deep breath, “Get to the others.”

“But we can’t! You-- You need help!” Moon pleads, still running as fast as he can to the medical station. He’s almost there, he knows it.

“It’s too late. Please, I. . . I don’t want to spend my last moments running. I. . .” Y/N’s voice breaks, tears running down their face. “I want you to live.”

Moon stops, one side wanting to stay with

“Moon! What are you doing? We--” Sun starts, only to be interrupted as Moon falls to his knees, holding you close to his chest.

Sun, finally coming to the realization that you can’t be saved, joins him.

Although you told them to go, they stay there with you. You want to repeat your instructions, but you let it be, also wanting the two to be with you

Not long after that, you die in Moon’s arms. They stay there for a long time, mourning your loss.

They have to leave eventually, though. A friendly soldier finds them, and forces them to leave you and get back to the battle field.

In the end, your side wins, many causalities with it. To the commanders, it’s amazing. They’ve won! But to Sun and Moon, they couldn’t feel happy. They lost their love.

They stay in the military, but they’re like the mindless machines they were thought to be, following orders without complaint, killing without a shred of remorse. Only when it’s late at night and they’re alone do they show how much everything is affecting them, trying to find comfort in each other.

And you wanna know what the worse part of all this is? None of the three confessed, hiding their emotions away, afraid of how crushing it would feel to have one die.

[zoyahmadd]

“It’s August 25th, the year 2021. This is what I feel about closure.” ~ Zoya Ahmad

I

I wake up to my alarm

It makes an awful sound,

It’s a reminder that my day has begun

But it’s a cold Thursday morning

And my bed has never felt more comfortable

I turn around to shut my alarm off

Oh, it’s September 12th, 2020

I must get up, I have to get up

But my blanket is hugging me too well

Now I don’t even know if it’s the blanket that’s keeping me warm or if it’s me that’s keeping the blanket warm

I fight with my mind regardless,

I’m doing everything I can do get up

But my body just won’t, it won’t let me

I’m too comfortable in here, It’s too warm and cozy

And I’m sleepy, my eyes can’t even stay open

But I fight with my mind for as long as I have to

And I finally get out of my bed

The only thing that’s keeping me warm now are my clothes

So I reluctantly head to my washroom knowing very well I have to take them off too

I splash my face with ice cold water so I can’t help but open my eyes and see

God, how much I hate doing this

How much I hate just opening my eyes

Now it’s turn to do what I’ve been dreading most

Now it’s turn to take off my warm clothes and put on layers of cold clothes

And then it’s turn for me to wait till they warm me up

But does anybody talk about the period in between? When you’re waiting for your clothes to warm you up? How your body shivers and hates you for leaving your perfectly comfortable bed?

And once I’m done putting on cold layers of clothing to replace the warmth of my sweater and pajamas,

it gets worse

Now I have to go back to my room and make my bed

The bed I’d cling on to if I could

The bed I’d never leave if life wasn’t about moving on and moving ahead

Now it’s time to face what i’ve left, hesitantly:

Now it’s time to make my bed, hesitantly

Now it’s time to put my pillows back to their places

Now it’s time to fold my blanket and tidy up my bedsheet

and as I do that, I feel it all slowly turn cold,

The thought of it being warm just few minutes ago seems so unrealistic to me now

The child in me wants to tell the bed how much I didn’t want to leave but I had to

The adult in me just stares at the bed I tidied up even though I didn’t want to

But me, I say nothing and walk away.

~ this is how giving closure feels

II

I can see you taking your steps back, love

I can see you drift away, slowly

I can see that you’re leaving, quietly

Right now you are water in my palms

And I know the more I try to hold on to you,

the more you’ll slip away from me

So I let you be, I let you walk away

I sit back and play my old school Del Rey

But wait, won’t you give me a reason at least?

Won’t you tell me what did I do wrong?

Or is it that you’ve fallen out of love?

Won’t you tell me at what time and at what city did you decide, ‘I don’t love her anymore’ ?

Or is it that you always knew, but your loneliness made you think you’re unsure?

Am I taking care of you wrong or have you already been taken care of?

Am I not loving you enough or is my love for you too strong?

Am I not holding you tight enough or have you already been held?

Am I not putting enough salt on your toast or have you already been fed?

Or is it that you don’t like your toast salty anymore?

Is it just as simple as… you don’t love me anymore?

Tell me love, tell me

Tell me the truth, let my heart bleed

Say it to my face , watch my heart sink

Tell me love, tell me

Love, where are you now?

You’ve left me with all these questions and I can’t seem to figure out how

Anything could’ve gone wrong because in my eyes we were living a fairytale dream

Won’t you just come back for the last time, won’t you just tell me

And if you don’t have any answers, love, just come back to me

I will sit with your silence and I will share your grief

You’ve left me with all these questions and now I can’t seem to sleep

You’ve left me with all these questions and now I’m not ready to hear you speak

Maybe I don’t want to know anymore

Maybe I just want you back

But if closure means I get to talk to you again,

If closure means I get to sleep,

If closure means you stitch up my wounds,

Then from you, closure I will forever seek.

~ this is how using closure as an excuse feels

III

It’s like I’m hanging off a cliff

But I don’t wish for you to come and rescue me anymore

I just hope you push me down once and for all

Because I’ve been holding on to the edge for too long now,

my arms have gone numb and my body is sore

I have screamed and begged you to push me down so I can be free,

But you never do

You never do

Maybe you like the idea of having someone who waits for you

But my darling, I’m no longer me

My feelings for you are long lost now

I am just trapped between flesh and bone

Maybe a push down the cliff would make me feel human again

My voice is shattered from all the screaming and my will to live is all crushed

I don’t care if I die when you push me down now

I just hope you do it soon

The human in me has given up

I’m just waiting for my body to do the same

~ this is how seeking closure feels

IV

I was in the dark

I was in there for too long now

You were nothing but a distant memory

You were nothing but an ache

You were nothing but a reminder that sometimes not having an answer was okay

It had taken me a lot of time to come to terms with this

And when I finally did,

You suddenly reappeared with words and sentences I longed to hear for years

But my heart was too numb to skip a beat at the sight of you after all these years

You spoke those words out loud and somewhere between the sentences I got lost

This is not how I imagined my reaction would be

I always thought I’d be in tears, full of rage

Lashing out every little thing that you’ve done to me

I always thought I’d count you all your sins and all your mistakes

Listing out every little thing that you’ve said to me

I always thought that I’d forgive but I wouldn’t forget

But when you said you were sorry

Time simply stopped and my body just froze

I didn’t have anything left to say or feel

You were too late,

your sorry’s and answers meant nothing to me

I was cold, I was dead

But I was glad to have you over

I was glad you said it all

I was glad you let yourself be free from all the guilt

Maybe someday if I feel human again

I will see that the wounds that you had given are all healed

All because you put an end to this, because you gave me an ending.

~ this is how receiving closure feels

[geekyglimpses-nest]

7. The Day Everything Changed

Warnings: +18 minor don't interact, slow burn, graphic language, humor, sexual content, physical trauma, blood (gore), bodies/corpses, death, drug use, guns, murder (atempted), PTSD, violence, english is not my first language.

Summary: Delaney eagerly awaits a dinner date with Layla, reflecting on their relationship. However, a terrifying nightmare shakes her, triggering memories of past trauma. As they try to enjoy their evening, chaos erupts, plunging the city into panic. Delaney's primary concern is protecting Layla, but amidst the chaos, she experiences a devastating loss, leaving her shattered and questioning the nature of sacrifice.

Word Count: 1123 words (10 min. max)

“Hello, I think the person is already inside, her name is Layla Milfred”

The hostess smiles and tells me to follow her. The place has a very homely vibe, it’s relatively small and the light is almost non existent if not for the occasional candles and low light that illuminates the restaurant. The place screams Layla’s taste and personality. The restaurant has a terrace and that’s where the hostess takes me. Unlike this morning, the evening sky is beautifully bathed by orange and purple rays, the air is fresh but not to the point of being cold. Layla knows I hate the heat, she must have felt the temperature was just right and decided to book a table outside. I smile at her sweet gesture.

I can see her figure a couple feet away so I thank the hostess and start walking towards her, she has her back to me so I cover her eyes and lean on her left ear.

“Excuse me miss, is this seat taken?” I ask teasingly

“In fact, it is, I’m waiting for my beautiful girlfriend, who seems to be a bit late”

“How rude of her to leave you here all alone. Actually, what a coincidence, I’m also waiting for my girlfriend, would you mind if I sit while I wait?”

“It would be an honor” she giggles when I give her a kiss on the back of her ear. She squirms and I take the chance to give her another kiss in the cheek and I sit in front of her.

“Nice place, it reminds me of you”

“If you like the place, wait till you try their food. I’ve heard it’s amazing” she grabs the menu and skims through it “They say the desserts are heavenly”

“Really?” I say “Because I’m already seeing my dessert in front of me, and I’m loving it” Layla pulls her gaze abruptly from the menu to stare at me, her skin is flushed and she gets nervous, she looks around us to make sure no one has listened what I said and she grins at me. Our waiter returns and Layla is the one that orders for us.

The people that surrounds us are engaged in their own small worlds. They all laugh, smile, eat and drink. There are a couple tables that are occupied by large groups of people, in others there are couples, friends and even some people that enjoy their own company. No worry in their faces. They’re just enjoying the current moment. The waiter leaves and I return my attention to Layla.

“How was your day?” I ask

“I got some very exiting news… The credit to open my own studio has been approved, I’ll receive the money by the end of the month” she says with a big smile

“Oh my god, Layla! Those are great news. I take the presentation went well”

“Well do you remember that at first I’d been denied because there was some papers that I didn’t include that were important for them to give the approval. Well about three months ago I started the paperwork from scratch and I asked Miles to help me because you remember how he…”

Am I willing to give this up? her. She’ll have questions that I won’t know how to answer. Even I myself have questions about why haven’t been totally honest about my past with her. The questions echo in my mind, accompanied by a torrent of doubts and fears. Layla deserves honesty, yet I can’t bring myself to confront the truth. How could I explain the turmoil in my heart, the conflicting desires pulling me in opposite directions?

I cannot continue down this path of half-truths and hidden motives. I need to stop this before it becomes into something irreversible. I do not want to let her go, but I can’t be this selfish. I know what being lead on fro years feels like. I know how much it hurts to realize that that person never actually felt the same deepness of care and love you did. I refuse to do the same. I won’t follow the pattern. He broke me. I gave him everything of me, everything there was to give, and he took it to then tell me I wasn’t the one for him. That I didn’t understand the realness and deepness of his darkness. It was lie he liked to tell himself to make himself feel better about not feeling the same. I did understand because I had been right next to him when it happened. He broke me once, shattered my illusions of love with callous disregard. I refuse to inflict that same pain upon another. My mom never really loved my dad, she was with him because she had nothing else, nowhere else to go. No one before my dad had shown her what true love was. She had no example to follow or teach. That was my example of love. Love for me was to be satisfied with what you have in front of you. Even if it didn’t felt right.

I didn’t understand it but now, I also know how dark the feeling of loneliness is and what it can do to someone. But Layla… She embodies everything I once yearned for, everything I thought I wanted. Yet, I am no longer the same person who longed for love’s embrace. Everything has changed, including me. It’s actually ironic, for years I waited for the wrong person to feel the same way I did and it never happened. And when I finally meet the person that is willing to give me just what I thought I was looking for, I’m not in the same place as her.

Mrs. Durmaz’s words echo in my mind, a sobering reminder of the truth I do not dare to confront. If Layla were truly the one, doubts and fears would not plague my thoughts. I would be able to talk about them with her to fix them. I don’t think I want to fix them. I cannot shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at my soul. Then again, I could have fooled myself into believing I felt something when in reality I might just be as dead as I was when I got here. I am little more than a hollow shell, numb to the warmth of affection. The truth lies somewhere between the depths of my past and the uncertainty of my future.

─━─━─━─「✦」─━─━─━─

I wake up screaming. A crushing pain in my leg wakes me. The pain grips me like a vise, a phantom agony that sends shivers down my spine. Instinctively, I reach for my leg

It’s not there.

My leg is not there. I lost it, I lost my leg.

Panic surges through me, my heart pounding in my chest. In the darkness, I am alone, surrounded by the suffocating weight of my own fear. The room feels oppressively small, the walls closing in around me. I struggle to push back the rising tide of despair, but it threatens to consume me whole.

I look up and I see a black pair of cargo boots. He came back. The Winter Soldier. His presence a chilling specter in the night. His mask obscures his features, but his eyes burn with an intensity that pierces through the darkness. I know why he’s here, what he wants from me.

He’s back to finish the job and take me to HYDRA.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a trembling plea. “Please don’t do this.” The ghost feeling of a pair of gloved hands touch my skin and it’s as if I’m burning. I recoil, the sensation unbearable. I close my eyes, willing myself to wake from this nightmare, but the pain persists, relentless and unyielding. I can feel the darkness closing in around me, suffocating me with its malevolent embrace.

And then… Nothing happens. As suddenly as it began, the nightmare ends. I am left trembling, bathed in a cold sweat, my heart still racing in my chest. But my leg is intact, the phantom pain fading into the recesses of my mind. He’s gone too.

I finally hear the phone ringing. With difficulty I get up and slowly reach the phone.

“Dr. Kingsley, the alarm in your apartment went off. You okey? Do you need elements to be send to your apartment?” says the voice of a man

“Who is this? What happened?” I answer as I rub my face with the palm of my hand

“Probably just a bad dream doctor. Would you mind turning your alarm off?” I hesitate “It’s next to the light switch, you just need to put your code in to deactivate it” I take the phone with me and turn the alarm off, I slide down the wall to the floor.

“My leg… I woke up and my… leg…” I whisper

“When the Triskelion attack happened you took a deep hit to your leg, it was shattered, almost completely destroyed. Your were brought in unconscious and in a critical condition, in the verge of dead. Doctors almost decided to cut your leg off because there was no emergency contact listed on your file. They decided against it to let you and your body decide. Couple hours after the infection was controlled and you woke up. It’s PTSD doctor”

“You said there was an option if I ever wanted to leave”

“I did ma’am. You interested?”

“I might, yes”

“Then I might recommend Enumclaw, Washington doctor. They say it’s beautiful during this season, great place to recover and keep up with your research. I’m pretty sure that due to your loyal service they would agree to fond your research elsewhere”

“Send me the papers” I answer without thinking

“Will do doctor, need anything else from me?”

“No”

“Try to rest. I’ll be in touch”

He hangs the call. I breath. I become more aware of the sweat that runs through my face and spine. A light knock on my door makes me tense again.

“It’s Mrs. Durmaz dear. I heard screaming, I just wanted to make sure if you were okey or If you had someone in there with you”

“I’m good Mrs. Durmaz, just a bad dream. Go back to rest, I’ll see you tomorrow” I answer

“Okey, I have hot tea in my apartment if you need it” she says, I whisper a thank you. A couple seconds later I see her shadow disappear from the crack in my door.

─━─━─━─「✦」─━─━─━─

♪The Thing About Trust - Dan Romer♪

The atmosphere in the restaurant shifts, tension crackling in the air like static electricity. Conversations falter, laughter fading into uneasy murmurs as patrons exchange worried glances. I suddenly feel inside a dream. A pain that almost crushes my chest makes itself present, I feel like my lungs are not getting enough air. Layla’s voice fades into the background as my attention is drawn to the chaos unfolding around us. People clutch their phones tightly, eyes glued to screens displaying images of destruction and despair. I try my best to listen to her conversation, but there’s too much noise and distraction happening that I can’t seem to focus on her anymore

“Hey, can you turn the news on!” screams a person behind us. Layla interrupts herself and we both turn to the t.v. too.

The image of the reporter is shaky, she wears the armies protection gear, explosions and shots being fired happen behind her “That’s right Fred, at the moment I find myself on Wakanda, a country located at the north of Tanzania. There has been reports letting us know about a lot of alien activity happening in the African country. We’ve also been notified of the presence the Avengers within King T’Challa’s Kingdom. Actually, if you see right behind me you can see the active battle field. Wakanda’s greatest warriors, the Dora Milaje have been seen all over the land trying to put their people out of danger. We don’t have all the details yet but signs of alien like life form have been detected ever since that attack on New York City early this morning. The wakandian army is doing everything to fight against this creatures of unknown origin" the resporter pauses for a seconds and put her hand to her ear, she looks into the camera "We just lost visual with some of the Avengers but we know for sure all of the Avengers are present during this battle” The image is shifted to the battle that unravels in Wakanda. Creatures that almost look like animals run towards the wakandian warriors and some of the Avengers. I turn to look at Layla and her eyes are glued to the screen of her phone. She looks at me and gives me her phone, I take it and I see a video of live transmission of the president in the White House.

“We don’t know exactly what is happening on Wakanda, but be assured that the Avengers are doing everything to protect our planet and our safety”

“Sir! Do you know how severe is the situation?” asks a reporter

“Is the planet in any danger?” asks another reporter

“Shouldn’t this be a world wide alert?” screams another reporter

“We’re handling the situation as best as we can” answers the president trying to remain composed and calm in front of the press. A man comes forward and whispers something into his ear, the president leaves with him “The conference is over. You’ll have to wait for further news” says a woman

“Layla, we should go home. Will be safe there” I say, urgency lacing my words as I grasp Layla’s hand tightly, she grabs her purse. Through the screens we see an explosion happen behind the reporter, the expansive wave knocks her and the camera down, last thing that is seen before the signal dies is ashes. People gasp in surprise and they all start looking at each other and around them. An explosion is heard near us.

The world outside descends into madness, a symphony of screams and sirens filling the air. People start to run and push others to get out of the restaurant, soon enough the main entrance is packed with people. I look to my side and see the handrail of the terrace facing the street, a few people jump it. By instinct I take Layla’s hand and pull her. I jump first and then help her jump over it, she scratches her leg “Honey take the shoes off, we need to run” she does, leaving the heels on the sidewalk.

Together, we navigate the panicked crowd, dodging frantic bodies in a desperate bid to reach safety. The street outside is a scene of utter chaos, cars careening out of control, their drivers vanished without a trace. What the fuck? I see people disappear and leave a trace of black ashes behind them.

“What’s happening?” Layla’s voice trembles with fear as she clings to my side, her eyes wide with disbelief. I have no answers, only a sinking sense of dread as reality unravels before us. We run, each footfall echoing like a drumbeat in the chaos, the world around us a blur of motion and noise. Smoke billows in the distance, flames licking at the sky as the city burns. And then, in an instant, everything changes.

To my left side I see a gas truck crash against a concrete wall on the other side of the road. I push Layla and myself into an alley, Layla kneels and I do too, my body shielding hers with the intention of protecting her of the blast, she shakes and cries in silence. The blast comes not soon after that, she screams, other do too. Debris rains down around us, I take her face in my hands.

“Baby, breath, I need you to breath, we have a long way to get home and I need you present for any danger. I will get us safely home” she nods and hides against my body, I hug her close, my hand travels across her back to sooth her.

“Let me make sure we’re clear to move” with difficulty she separates herself from me, I stand and walk to the corner of the alley that leads to the main street. I see my car is still were I left it, mostly intact.

I turn to tell Layla is time to move but I’m surprised to her not being where I left her.

My heart sinks to my stomach. Ashes are flying where Layla used to be.

No. Whats happening?

What is this?

She was just here, I just turned to make sure we were safe!

Where is she?

I held her hand! WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE? No. Please God, this can’t be happening.

“LAYLAAA!” I scream in hopes of hearing her “LAYLA! WHERE ARE YOU?”

My body is hit with something hard, like someone crashed into me. I fall to the floor, my vision is blurry, my sight darkens. Acid and metal are the last thing that I remember.

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The titan finds himself in what seems to be heaven. Blood red water surrounds the dream like place. A little girl waits for him, her back to him.

“Daughter?” he asks, the girl turns

“Did you do it?”

“Yes.” he lowers his head

“What did it cost?”

“Everything”

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

How dangerous… To finally have something worth loosing.

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Notes: I couldn't prolongue this moment any longer. This will be a changing point in her life and story. I'd like to warn you that the chapters to come do become a bit sad and dark. Hope you like it, please don't forget to interact, I'd love to hear from you like I said I t helps me a lot.

Till next time, geekyglimpses-nest out 👋🏽