#And a part of me thinks it's stupid to say this shit here like it feels like I'm just doing this for attention or some shit and I dunno

[pascals-doll]

AGORA HILLS

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 after your date turns into a night of hell, love is there to show you how sweet life is about to get. | 7.9K

ೀ THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

ೀ SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.3

ೀ i wanna say a biggg thank you to bookie @openupforme for encouraging me to whip up the scene where ellie tries readers ethnic food and also being the sweetest 🥹 love u bb!

ೀ description: MODERN AU! VIOLENCE! ANGST! DESCRIPTIVE MENTION OF BLOOD L/FIGHTING! MAJOR FLUFF !!! FLUFF, MILD ANGST, latina!reader, mentions of smoking weed and drinking, mentions of Joel throughout, ellie learning spanish!!! (i lowk had too much fun this), kissing/makeouts, ellie and jesse indulge in reader and Dina’s ethnic food, mention of y/n (___).

CHAPTER FOUR

❝ i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke ❞

❝ what the fuck did you say? ❞

Ellie’s voice rang through your shut-out ears inaudiblely.

it felt like the entire world just stopped moving, your hearing becoming obstructed by ringing, muffling any sound or voice as your mind completely shut down.

you felt your entire system almost reset with pure rage, absolutely loosing it.

your mind might’ve shut down but your body senses didn’t fail you as the only thing that continue to ring through your mind was each word that left that man’s mouth.

your brain pounding with the words.

❝ i wonder— ❞

❝ how he would feel if he knew—❞

❝ if he knew his girl was—❞

for you, it was all unraveling in slow motion as your minds clouded your conclusion thinking.

for Ellie, she was ready to punch the man, speaking up “what the fuck did you just say?” but within the blink of her own eyes, you had already charged at the man.

your vision was vermillion, blinded by rage.

your body was auto-response, having a mind of its own. your manicured nails dug into the skin of his flesh as your hands clawed onto him after charging at him.

your first punch was sloppy and impactful, the adrenaline was enough to numb the painful sensation that would bring you hell later, your manicure scratching his face.

your knee dug into his rib-cage as you were onto of him, each one of your hands landing their very own ablaze blows to his head and face. you didn’t care to check if you had broken a nail or for anything in that matter.

your only focus was him like your own mental target as he was clearer than day, now under you while his hands struggle to force away your own. your anger gave you enough adrenaline to strengthen yourself; overpowering his attempts of trying to roll you under him.

you had finally recognized the motherfucker.

it was your ex’s ex-coworker from his old job, he had met you a couple times when you and your ex-boyfriend would hang out with his old group of work friends.

if it wasn’t for his stupid name-tag, you wouldn’t of even remembered that the prick’s name was Cameron.

yeah, that name definitely rang a bell.

the only reaction to your own proper thought was your impact against his face plaguing him more than before, your furry only festering more.

all you could think about was your ex.

he cheats on you and then he goes around telling his friends, what? come after you for leaving his ass? like they had the goddamn right?

your mind was in a tormental frenzy, one frantic thought being replaced with another, now all you could hear was his words again.

❝ how he would feel if he knew—❞

❝ he—he—he—he ❞

each mental repeat was violent scratching hit to his face.

Ellie just stood there, awe-struck because of how quick everything emersed into a violent situation. she was ready to charge at the man, but she wanted to talk her shit first.

she was a shit talker as much as she was a fighter.

but you? there was no words, just raging punches.

you were sure your fists were red, cut up, and sore; possibly even fractured but you couldn’t see with the hair in your hair and your body thrashed against his hands that tried to grab a hold of you aggressively.

you could hear mumurs and gasps from people, heavy footsteps of the restaurant staff buzzing around you as his hands punctured a squeeze into your arms your hand managed to pick his head and throw against the restaurant floor.

your throat gutted out a shriek of anger, suddenly being pulled off by random hands off the now, bloody bruised man.

the second ellie heard you scream, she was pulled out of her struck-stuck trance, immediately running to the staff member that was able to pull you off of Cameron.

“don’t you fucking touch her!”

ellie yell echoes through the restaurant, another staff member running up infront of ellie “If you get involved, we will be pressing charges!” the random restaurant staff member warns ellie.

she shrugs off the staff members hands off of her before running over to you as you were yelling for the random staff member to let go of you, trying to wriggle yourself out of their embrace.

“you need both need to leave this establishment now!” another staff member yelled at the both of you as Ellie reaches out to grab you, the staff member letting go of the tight hold they had on you to release you towards Ellie.

you’re body was shaking with violent thrill, laughing almost manically. “you need to check the people you fuckin’ let work here!” you spat back loudly, you look around at the crowd of other restaurants guests began to form around the entry room.

“FOR EVERYONE’S INFORMATION, I JUST BEAT CAMERON’S ASS WHOM YOU MAY NOT KNOW BUT IS THE TRASHY WAITER THAT YOU DON’T CARE TO TIP CAUSE HE LOOKS AND IS BUILT LIKE AN ASSHOLE”

you didn’t care that you looked crazy making the announcement as you squirmed in Ellie’s hold, flanting your blood-covered arms around with each yell and your dress also slightly being covered in someone’s blood; not caring if it was yours or his.

“____, your arm!” Ellie said, immediately reaching out to hold it.

you adverted your gaze from the crowd, who know looked at the man who had now stood up from the floor; surrounded by the staff as the crowd whispered to each other.

he broke through the flesh of your arm when he squeezed you, slightly dry, yet oozy blood beading down your arm.

“leave now before we call the police!” the staff warn once more.

you heard ellie softly reassure in your ear. you leaned into her as her back against the front door.

but you had one thing to say before you left.

“go ahead and tell him, then tell him i said, ‘i fuckin’ dare him to show up to my work again. he will end up alot worse than you’—” you began as your eyes burned into his fucked-up face.

you didn’t care if anyone was looking nor caring for anyone else; making sure he picked up on every single word you said.

“tell him—its not a threat, its a promise fuckin’ marícon!”

just like that, Ellie’s back pushed against the front door.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

what a great way to end the fucking night.

you both walked across the bumpy asphalt pavement of the parking lot. the cold breeze finally stinging your wounds, you couldnt help but let out a loud wince.

youre entire body felt on fire, mental completely overwhelmed by all types of emotions.

you were shaking with leftover furry, you wanted to cry your eyes out, you felt embarrassed, and most of all, you were scared.

you weren’t scared of what just happened or what your ex wanted from you. you were scared of how ellie might see you; you were scared of the questions she might ask.

your body was worn out, your legs wobbly as they ached from all the thrashing around. you guys walked closer to her car but eventually your legs gave out.

you slipped onto the floor, tripping over nothing but the own pain inflamed in your ankles and knees.

that was all it took for you to breakdown.

“hey hey, we’re almost there—talk to me.” ellie catches you almost immediately.

she laid you softly onto the dirty rocky pavement alongside you, resting half of you ontop of her. she couldn’t of cared less about the dirty floor, frankly caring to have you lay on her instead of the dirty public pavement.

she lulled you and hummed against your ear as you sobbed uncontrollably in her arms, no thoughts just tears. “c’mon baby, we’re almost there and everything will be okay” her whispers sounded like angels talking as she covered your shaking body with her arms.

you gasped out through choked sobs “i—can’t—go home like this!” you cried out, you can’t imagine what you would have to tell your parents; with them having to see you bloody with bruises.

Ellie mustered up her strength to pick you up from ontop of her, her hands strongly holding you up by your waist; hauling your body softly “s’okay, its all okay—i can talk to Joel—shit! lets cross everything off tonight!” she jokes light-heartedly, trying to ease up the overwhelmed tension inside you.

it works, of course it works.

she knew how to make you laugh, you couldn’t breathe almost from how much you laughed earlier during dinner. you couldn’t help but let a teary smile tug your flushed face as you looked into Ellie’s eyes, giving her small meek chuckle.

her heart shattered just seeing you cry, she takes one of the hand that was around your waist tightly; once you reached the doors of her car, she took your face and wiped the tears that dripped down your cheeks.

Ellie felt a hulking weight on her shoulders seeing you breakdown the way you did, she could care less about the ravenous rage she just seen you go through. she cared more about the fragile woman she had in her arms.

this was completely different, this moment exposed your vulnerability; not only yours, but Ellie’s aswell, to each other.

this whole situation completely contrasted the side you showed to everyone, the side Ellie was used too. the woman who walks into any room with her head held high, challenging, and ready to take on anything with your fierce self.

“I really really dont want to meet your dad covered in blood and bleeding” your tone was no longer shaky or croaked, still keeping its sensitive tone as you spoke back light-heartedly.

ellie knew you were serious through your playful tone. she gave you a soft smile as she opened the car door for you, even helping your aching body get in carefully.

once you were both in the car and settled, you calmed down more; even quicker than you thought with the help of Ellie’s embrace and reassurance.

“can you take me to Dina’s—you can come, but i understand if after tonight—” once you began to speak, you were cut off by ellie immediately.

“no, i don’t care to hear what leaves your mouth—it ain’t true, pretty. wherever you go, im going.” ellie poured out, looking into both of your eyes like she was searching in them.

“if that’s okay with you” she finishes, her eyes glistened softly as her eyes loved on you.

you could almost start crying again. well, you did.

“put dina on the phone—let’s call it night, alright?” she wiped each singular tear that dropped from each of your eyes, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie helped you up the apartment hallway stairs, helped you all the way towards the elevator till you were at Dina’s front door; even holding you up as you jingled the keys into the lock.

this was a definitely story-time.

you unlock the door, hand turning the knob as you let yourselves in; almost immediately you hear your name being called out by Dina through her apartment.

you were greeted by your bestfriend who ran up to you, engulfing you. you rocked back slightly, catching yourself on your feet at the impact of her hug.

“are you okay? what the fuck happened?” Dina’s rushes out, anxiety evident in her voice.

“Jesse?” you heard Ellie call out as your eyes examined the room, falling onto the man who was sat on the couch.

“i was here when Dina got the call…you good?”

it was endearing watching them, the way he picked up on how ellie didn’t even want to speak, just leaning into his side for a hug.

you let out a sigh, your arms grew weak as they loosen trying to embrace her. Dina held your body as she motioned for you to step out of your shoes.

your legs wobbled out with each little movement.

“hey jesse—sorry i look like a crime scene.” you joke out which he just gave a slight smile too “you look bad-ass.” he chuckles causing you to giggle, finally stepping your bare-feet onto dina’s wooden floor.

“you gonna be okay, ___?” jesse was concerned just as much through his wittiness. you give him a confident smile and nod, not wanting to let up your vulnerability again.

“im gonna get her cleaned up, ellie would you like a change of clothes?” Dina lets them know, wrapping her arm around you to hold you up, leaning herself into your semi-limp body to help you step.

“i’d appreciate it Dina, thank you!—also i hate to fucking ask but i need a smo—”

“Bong’s on the kitchen table, Jesse has the pack.” Dina smiles out before helping you down her apartment hallway into her bathroom.

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“remember Cameron?” you nettled out, breaking the silence between the two of you as Dina bathed you.

“that one guy you tried to get me to go on a double date on with you and your ex?”

“yeah, him—he works at the restaurant we went to eat at.”

“jesus christ—” you cut her off.

“he recognized me the second he got to our table Deens—he was giving me this fucking look.”

“what the fuck did he say?”

“he didn’t say anything at first—as we were walking out of the restroom—”

“i thought you guys were eating, why were you both in the—”

“Deens, let me fucking finish!” you whine out as she continues to scrub down your naked body with the personal loufa you leave for when you sleepover; washing away the blood into the water down into the bath-drain.

“sorry sorry—im listening.” she gets up momentarily to open one of her bathroom cabinets.

“we were about to literally leave, Dina—so close through those fuckin’ doors—he goes ‘i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke’ i just lost it.”

“wait, ‘he’ as in….” Dina began to trail off.

“yes!—hearing ese’pendejo mention him—then that fucking word.” you grumbled out, feeling angry again.

Dina came back with hydrogen peroxide, rubbing alcohol, and a couple healing ointments along with the cotton pads to tend to your wounds.

Dina had already got done helping you finish washing up in the bathtub, the hot water was still running to keep your tense muscles from aching continuously.

your knees were a bit scraped up, slight yellow tint underlying in your skin;you knew you would wake up with those to be purple the next day.

Dina picked up one of your arms first, later on tending to the other.

“he did this?”

she looked at each puncture in your skin, a crease-cutting through indents of each five nails digging into each of your arms.

you scoff. “Si no lo hubiera hecho en su lugar de trabajo, me estarías rescatando de la cárcel ahora mismo.” (if he didn’t do it at his workplace, you would be bailing me out right this moment.)

you weren’t kidding. Dina knew you weren’t, even with the slight giggles you both let out to lighten the mood as she tended to all your wounds precisely. she finished up by aiding each arm, wrapping around a white gauze around before putting her fluffy robe on you.

you both made it back to your room for you to change into comfortable clothes and pick out some of your clothing for ellie to wear.

the midnight definitely made up for the encounter you and ellie had to go through earlier. the four of you spent the night passing the bong around, you and ellie specifically getting so high out your asses.

you were all indulging in the sweet playful haze the terpenes fogged inside your bodies. nothing was serious, popping jokes left and right; shit, even the whole shitty was situation turned into a meer joke with the four of you.

“anything is fighting attire for this one!” Dina laughs out pointing at you, coughing out the smoke after.

“eesh! i believe it—you should’ve seen—she looked like a cheetah pouncing with that dress on!” ellie chuckles out, following Dina’s joke as her high low-eyes rake through you.

“idiotás…” you laugh out as you pass the bong to Jesse.

“hey! i’m not the one callin’ you ‘national geographic’—what does that even mean?” Jesse retorts playfully before hitting the bong.

“bro just add the ‘ass’ to idiot” Ellie makes fun of Jesse playfully while completely butchering the spanish syllable.

“oh ellie, stop talking!—your first spanish lesson will be with ___ tomorrow.” Dina teases.

you all soaked in the Dina’s living room full of marijuana smoke until the high laughter shared between all of you would take you all out into a slumber. it was later than 3 am by the time you all knocked out.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

it was the next morning, probably the best morning’s you’ve ever had even with the excruciating pain you woke up with.

you woke up entangled in ellie’s arms, you both fell asleep on Dina’a couch while Jesse and Dina slept in her bedroom.

you fluttered your eyes open, head on her chest while each one of her arms was wrapped around you almost protectively. you could hear each beat of her heart as her chest heaved softly, mumuring in a pattern underneath the side of your head.

the feeling of her heartbeat was like listening to the pleasing sound of rain tricking against a window; bringing the same bliss, maybe even more as listening to her heartbeat lulled you in and out of sleep.

‘esto tiene que ser como se siente el paraíso.’ (this must be what heaven feels like)

ellie had her hands loomed into and through the texture of your hair, holding the back-side of your head slightly; cradling your head almost.

the atmosphere was incensed by the mixture of body-heat you shared through each others bodies. the warm felt like something stronger than a blanket.

the sun-ray shines through Dina’s tall curtains that covered her wide-spread windows, enhancing the two of you under nature’s glow.

you took in the way her fair skin contrasted your bronze one beautifully, the way her tattoos illuminated, especially the tattoo of her fern and moth; you admired all her small other tattoos.

she had a a cursive J on her other wrist, Joel’s initial.

on the same arm, on her arm cephalic she had a line that was a thin as a guitar string. you observed the small prominent ink and the way it wrapped around her arm.

ellie’s tattoos were simple but you knew they were symbolic in some way which made her tattoos completely beautiful to you. unknowningly, your hands had been caressing the soft skin of her arms as you traced over her tattoos; getting lost in her shut eyes.

“buenos días” you could hear ellie’s morning voice, her thick rasp as she grumbled out.

your eyes widen slightly taken aback, you were hoping she hadn’t sensed you staring. you dipped your face into the crevess between eachother’s arms; slightly embarrassed.

“mírala, primera día conmigo y ya sabes.” (look at her, first day with me and you already know.) you played with her as you hid your face away.

“hold on hold on, don’t get too confident in me now.” ellie retorts quickly, her eyes completely widen out of groggy slumber at the smooth quick pace of your accent; almost not catching onto any of the foreign words.

you let out a bit of louder laugh, god, she could even wake you up with a laugh.

“buenos días, bombón” the tension was like dripping sugary corn syrup, the most honeyed atmosphere you had ever been engulfed with and exposed too.

there was no way you could ever compare your ex to ellie. not in one singular way could the love you were feeling for ellie ever be compared to the love you have felt.

“should’ve payed more attention to spanish in highschool and Joel’s tutoring.” you tease her with a smile at the mention, how she miserably failed all four years of spanish even with Joel’s basic—practically ‘personal google-translate’ help.

Ellie grabs the pillow she was laying her head on to playfully hit you with it. your arm reflexes and reaches out your hand, just in time to stop the pillow from hitting your side. you both burst into a fit of giggles as you begin a soft playful morning tussle.

you grab ahold of the pillow that ellie tries to push closer to you with her hands, you eventually find the perfect moment to slip it out of her tight grip and throwing it across the room; taking one leg and hoisting it on her hip as you both laid on your sides.

Ellie rolled you over, trying to tip you onto Dina’s huge black furry carpet. you immediately caught yourself on the rest of couch arm-rest, leaving you on top of her, each leg bent to each of her sides.

this position was compromising in someway, you felt more connected to her like this. the smiles from your faces didn’t falter for second, but only shifted into admiration.

you both admired eachother, both of your eyes holding overflowing adoration. your essences soak into each other as ellie traces your tattoos. she replicated the treatment you were showing her from earlier as you studied the shape of her lips, how long her lashes were, and the way her hair fell down; few strands falling onto her face.

you were so used to seeing her with her hair up, she mentioned to you how it was just more comfortable for her, how she grew to enjoy the feeling of the breeze of her neck. maybe it wasn’t a big deal, but it was for you.

in some way you felt this as a way of ellie’s vulnerability, dropping her guard and allowing you to see her with such intimacy and in ways you had never seen her before,—you knew this was different for her too.

that was the thing with her, your thoughts to yourself continue as you lean closer into her, chests pressing together; aligning heartbeats as you got lost in a strong energetic haze.

the scene was ethereal.

the sun glowing trancing your deep embrace, silhouetting your skin-to-skin held contact onto the shined-on carpet covered floor. the way your head laid ontop of Ellies as her own dipped into the clavicle of your shoulder, her deep breathing feathering your collarbone and tickling you.

eventually your heads meet, foreheads touching as your eyes poured into each other. you watched the way Ellie’s eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, then repeating. it seemed like an all natural action when your lips met.

the kiss was so gentle and soft, yet overfilled with so much. your lips tingled against the warm feeling of Ellie’s tongue swiping over your bottom lip, wanting more of your lips.

there wasn’t a single worry between the two of you. you brought your gauzed up hand to caress her cheek which she softly grabbed your wrist, departing from the kiss you shared to peck your bandaged bruised knuckles.

“i’m sorry about—”

”don’t you ever apologize for something you don’t have too.” Ellie told you sincerely, cutting you off.

“but you don’t understand—” you continued to push.

“ill understand with you, and if i don’t. you will teach me.”

Ellie didn’t even want you trying to protest once more, pulling you back into her lips softly. your lips continuing moving in a plush motion.

your hands found their way to her hair, entangling them through her smooth straight locks, massaging your fingertips into her scalp. you hummed contently into the savorful kiss that you shared; your mind wanting more, craving and needing more.

it felt like each wet passionate lock between each other was an eternity of bliss.

Ellie’s hands caress up and through your back, her fingers tracing your spine before resting them onto the dip of your hips.

“lesbians are making on my couch—okay! going back inside my room!” Dina calls out before quickly retreating into her own bedroom.

you both whipped your heads around, breaking your kiss instantly; just to catch the door closing shut.

you both fell into a fit of giggles as each other’s doed out eyes soaked into the morning aroma together.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the way the four of you spent the day together.

you all started off the day by settling to go to the classic old diner down the road for a good breakfast. it was 10:20 AM by the time you guys were smoking out of your purple ‘alien-looking’ pipe, as described by Ellie, herself.

maybe it was this morning, maybe last night.

it has now more than ever became clear to you exactly how Ellie had you feeling, being more handsy on both ends. you couldn’t help but feel as your skin was burning, if her hands weren’t there to cool you down.

definitely now more than ever, it was crystal clear.

“uhm, earth to the both of you!” Dina clears her throat, calling out loudly to the both of your attention.

a moment ago, your legs were on ellies lap as her hands caressed all up and down your exposed legs due to you wear some simple shorts. it wouldn’t be believable but you didn’t understand how quickly just a couple loveable leg rubs led to a mini make-out sesh behind Dina and Jesse in the passenger seat.

you both jumped away from each other, as if you had both been pulled into a trance as you both blinked away at your friends reactions.

“lets go before y’all eat each other for breakfast.” Jesse jokes out as he opens his passenger door causing a heat to rush onto ellie’s cheeks shut up—you kept us up all night.—ellie’s smart and quick to remark teasingly.

once finally seated into the cute diner, very vintage americana looking diner. the four of you were all seated into a red-seats booth that had a table with fake cherries for table decor.

you scanned the menu below, taking in all the options of different breakfast entrees; the variety of omelettes, sandwiches, toasts, and pancakes. you settled on frosted fluffy strawberry french toast while you ordered coffee.

“jeez, you and Joel—coffee lovers, bleh!” ellie grimaced in fake disgust and disbelief, making a forced disgusted noise after ordering herself.

“why thank you, Joel and I have taste.” you sarcasm out, giggling slightly. Ellie just admired the way your smile tugged your cheeks and creased your eyes joyfully.

Ellie matched your small chuckle as you spoke up. “we will mock your hate over our hot cup of coffee!” you lean in, bringing your pointer finger to poke at her dimpled cheek which she reactively crinkle her nose.

everyone finished ordering their choice of meals, indulging in humorous banter all together. you learned about how about ellie’s summer this one time Joel had a fling with this sweet mexican woman he completely fell infatuated with, how it was probably the best summer of her life due to the countless of grill-outs they both loved to have.

“oh so, your thing for latinas runs in the family?” you quirk causing Jesse to let out a holler as Dina snorts out, using her hand to cover her mouth.

“uh—what—how did you even come up with that?” Ellie stumbles over her word.

“nah yeah, it definitely run in the family.” Jesse chimes in with a smirk causing you to clap and laugh out just more.

“the both of you don’t have a single fuckin’ idea on what your on about!” Ellie retorts, for some reason, her cheeks rushing fusion.

as you were about to speak up, the waitress came with each one of your plates. you all ate silently, yet peacefully and happily. the silence connecting you all more if anything.

one hand held your dullish knife as your other hand held your fork; you held your toast down with your fork as your cut off a piece off your toast, gathering the maple syrup along with the topped frosted butter. you let out a moan of content as the sweet combination hit your tastebuds as your eyes widen in pure foodie-bliss.

the scene of you trying a delicious meal, savoring it too was possibly the most adorable and gorgeous thing you’ve done in the past month you spent with her, exploring eachother. you took a few more bites before your little amused grin while you swallowed your bites of food turned your grin into a smile as you began to cut another piece of your toast. you repeat the same steps before asking, well not really.

you held the fork up as you hummed loudly and excitedly—ready to airplane a spoonful into Ellie’s mouth.

“tè va a’ gustar…” you muttered under your blissed breath.

Ellie opens her mouth, grinning as she hears the little spanish sentence fall from your lips. you playfully do a small swerve, then eventually holding it close to her mouth for her to close her lips around. she kept eyes contact with you as she ate the piece of toast off your fork, eyesbrows raising in delight which you only nod your head, knowingly too.

Jesse and Dina watched the both of you amused before returning to their own conversation, how it was dina’s dream to roadtrip to California. you could hear her small talk drown out from your ears as the world felt like it spun, making it feel like it was just you two.

“it’s delicious, mama.” she hums out.

“i know, now say ‘que deliciosó’!”

Ellie tries her best to repeat after you, stuttering over her pronunciation.

“that was absolutely!—horrendous.” Dina fakes enthusiasm before completely deadpanning her expression.

“i would love to hear Jesse try!” Ellie claims, leaning into her own seated side of the booth.

“kay!—deli—si-o-so!”

you shared an awkward glance to Dina as Dina lips flatline completely, biting back a laugh as Ellies eyes meet yours before glancing at Dina. the table was silent as Jesse questioned what he said wrong, not holding in your laughter as you all laugh collectively.

“just stick to english, babe.” Dina consoles teasingly as you and Ellie try to catch your breath.

“i definitely did not sound like that!” Ellie laughs out, trying to catch her breath.

“easy Jesse!” you follow along, laughing in sync.

“the spanish lessons are for Ellie—not me.” Jesse immediately raised his hands up in the air as defense before going back to dig into the omelette he ordered.

now it was Ellie’s turn, she picked up the loaded crossiant sandwhich carefully. you shot her a small smile, moving your hair out the way slightly as you leaned in to take a bite out of her breakfast sandwich. you savored the buttery bread from the crossiant as the mix of cheese, hash brown, and mapled sausage mix into your mouth.

“ta—tè gusta?” she stumbled but managed to say it right. if your stomach wasn’t fluttering like a swarm of butterflies before, it definitely was now.

“mm!, muy rico.” you smile as you hear Dina clap, putting her fork down onto her plate of pancakes.

“okay spanish 101!, call Joel!—tell him Carne Asada at my house!” she exaggerates.

“girl, i know you kidding, but now, i want carne asada.” you tutt out before sipping on your coffee.

you all enjoyed your dinners together, laughing, conversating, and more importantly, bonding all the same.

“so, we hittin’ the store after this?” Jesse chimes with a stupid smile.

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the trip to the grocery store was definitely….something.

Ellie and Jesse were like toddlers while you and Dina spent time hunting for the ingredients throughout the store.

“how about you get the drinks and let the—ahem, adults handle this.” Dina clears her throw, pointing back and forth between you and her.

“uh what—” Ellie began to protest.

“you—i need you to get limes, cilantro, and white onion.” you listed as you pointed to Ellie, whom immediately stopped talking.

“yes ma’am.” was all she said, before pulling you in for a kiss which you instinctively went to place your hand behind her neck gently, momentarily before pulling away.

“my beautiful man in the entire universe of ugly rotting men—who also happens to be of legal age!—get your sexy girlfriend liquor?” Dina remarks sweetly and dramatically.

“wow!, coarsing me into buying alcohol for you guys—that’s illegal.”

“look at you! knowing the law and shit—get us a bottle of Pátron Silver.” Dina quirked, giving him a kiss on the lips.

you all split up, each to their own getting what they needed. you picked out rice, brown beans, queso fresco, pepper/jalapeno, avocados, and of course, the steak. Dina grabbing any other ingredients needed.

once everyone was set, meeting at the store cart that Ellie strolled around.

“awe look at you guys! wasn’t so hard, huh?”

Dina playfully snarks out as you guys walk towards self-checkout. you watched the way Jesse playfully smacked Dina’s butt, kissing her forehead while at it. then, feeling a small arm sneak around the back of your waist.

“look at that straight shit.” she playfully icks out, getting a small giggle out of you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

once you entered Dina’s—it was go-time.

the sound of the kitchen rustling with a bunch of noise coming from the hustling around from yourself, along with Dina. you got to marinating the steaks as Jesse got the mini grill that was outside of Dina’s balcony.

music tunes through Dinas personal handheld speaker as you got your freshly washed hands dirty. you cut multiple limes, then bringing out the salt and pepper.

the entire time, every time you grabbed a piece of raw steak; squeezing the lime juice onto the meat before sprinkling bit by bit salt & pepper, Ellie watched.

she couldn’t help not too stare.

she admired the concentration you carried with the biggest smile on your face—especially impressed by the way you squeezed the half-piece lime with one hand completely.

“what’s meat in spanish?” Ellie asks innocently, slightly hovering closer to you.

your smile widen, your teeth glimmer as you passed the seasoned steak onto an empty glass platter for Dina to take outside.

“say carne, baby.” you keep an eye on her as you spoke.

“carne—oh!, its in the name.”Ellie slightly confuses.

you lean in to give her a small peck “ay cariño, you are so cute.”

“you did say spanish 101 today—what did you call me?”

“special nickname—just for you!” you shot her a playful wink. you could still see unsurity in her face. “nothing bad, baby—it’s a term of endearment.” you finish off, placing the second marinated steak onto the glass plate.

“venga para acá, let me show you how.” you signal with your messy hand. Ellie made her way around from the counter she was leaning on, walking uo slightly behind you before standing next to you.

“come over here, empieza a poner sal y pimienta—start to put salt and pepper.” you repeated after yourself. you obeserved carefully the way she began to pronounce each foreign word.

“slow baby—you got it, pi-me-yen—tà.” you her at the end as she didn’t sound too bad for her first try. Ellie tries once again as she lathers the meat in the salt and pepper, flipping the meat over to do the same on the other side.

you got closer, leaning your head on her shoulder as your hands went to grab the salt as she rubbed in the lime juice. you pour a bit of salt onto your hand as you get ready to sprinkle it. Ellie’s hand made moved away slightly before going back to the spots you sprinkle salt to rub it in; the both of your arms ontop of another, almost entangled as you both began to season together.

the intimacy was different, yes it was romantic; definitely not sexual—this entire moment shared together gave you both a sensibility of home. the sweet tension divert into domestic parallels as Ellie’s back met your chest like magnets, feeling the way your breath feathered against the back of her neck in gentle rhythm.

it wasn’t just the physical touch that made the both of your bodies feel like electricity firing through each other’s veins.

the senses you both individually carried feeling like it invisibly oozed into each other, interlocking your connected hearts.

Ellie melted into you, her head moving the tiniest bit. you took it as a signal to dip your head intonthe crevess of her neck and peppering kisses as both of your hands smeared among the meat. you hward the way a sweet little symph of a hum was enough to have your heart jumping out your chest.

you gave a Ellie’s hands a bit of space, letting her transfer the piece of meat with the rest of the seasoned pieces on the glass plate. Ellie turned her head to the side, the side of her face, partly almost facing you completely; that was till she turned her head completely, moving a hand away in the process to not keep her encaged.

you just poured into each other’s eyes, neither of you wanted to leave the aroma of this feeling.

Ellie leaned in, eyes jumping from your eyes to your lips. you both kept your hands lowered as they were covered in the seasoning and lime juice; nothing stopping her from the way her lips locked into yours intoxicatingly.

“lets take these out to them, mama” she pulls away with a goofy smile, hinting at the meat.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the sun had set and the late evening arrived, watching the way the orange sky smiled back at the four of you as you all created a night to remember.

the sound of Bachatá Xtremè’s ‘Te Extraño’ playing through as you and Dina took slight dance-like steps between each shot, chasing it by sucking on a piece of lime.

you both started off chill at first—making yourselves a little drink to sip on as you finished cooking and smashing the beans, dina finishing up the rice, and making the guacamole—the more spanish bangers came on, your amount drinks had gotten hefty.

Jesse was on the Grill, occasionally being pulled away from a very drunk dina to dance with her—kudos to Jesse though, he kept a pretty good pace.

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: AGORA HILLS

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

right now, you were sat ontop of Ellies lap, puffing on the blunt she rolled. she had one arm cradling the back of you as the other passed the smoke between the both of you.

Ellie spent the day admiring the way you ran around all day, now that you were here; with her sat and seated. it was your turn to admire the strong gorgeous woman.

although the sun had set, the slight glow from the toned out blue sky perfectly sharpened her freckles specking across her soft face, the way her t-shirt hugged her, and especially the small muscle in her biceps that flex each time she took a drag.

“whatcha lookin’ at, mama?” she caught you, giving you a small smile as she passed you the Dutch.

“sorry—really wanted you to pass the blunt already.” your sarcasm lacing your sweet tone as you gave her fake look of dissatisfaction.

“oh! really!?” Ellie gawks, playing into fake offense.

you gave her a big smile you couldn’t falter. you brought the cigarillo up to your lips, inhaling and then exhaling before speaking, “i never said thank you.” you began.

“thank you for what?” she questions, the hand she used to hold the blunt to caress your face.

“for standing up for me, for being there, for literally—being here. you could’ve ran off and you didn’t.” your voice was sincere, nothing more.

“i would do it all again in a heartbeat, mama.”

your entire heart felt like a floodgate opening, allowing the sweetest taste of serotonin rush through.

“there isn’t a single thing i would do differently—change—now, i would give everything to not meet that jack-ass waiter.” Ellie says, her eyes not leaving yours as her words went straight into your heart.

you chuckle out “fuck him—that guy’s a friend of my ex. i didn’t even know he worked there.” you explained, reminiscing a bit.

Ellie was quick to stop any moment longer. “fuck them both, they mad to see you doing good.” she devotes, pulling you into her to kiss your forehead. the reassurance made your stomach flutter up.

“and with someone greater, too—in all ways.” you whisper out, leaning your head down slightly so your foreheads met.

you were in love with Ellie Williams, a feeling that you had never felt so strong.

“i wanna tell everyone you’re mine—show you off, make them all fuckin’ mad.”

before Elle could say anything else, you hear a drunk Dina cheer Listos para comer! (we ready to eat!) .

you all helped bring the food inside, setting the dinner table as chatter wisped between the four of you. the dinner table was scattered with all the delicious plates you all bonded over cooking.

it was like a cute family dining scene from a movie.

you all began to dig in, Dina looking over at you with a look that you knew exactly to return as you both silently waited at the table; your eyes moving from meeting Dina’s to Ellie and Jesse, watching them chew. you both waited with big grins as they both let slight moan and gasp from their savorful meals.

you and dina cant help the fit of laughter you break into which only confuse the both of them.

“don’t know what’s funny—you’re not gonna be laughing when im on one knee though.” Ellie was dead serious.

“ouh! i better be a bridesmaid!” Dina exclaims excitedly.

needless to say, you were beaming a deep rose through your cheeks, bringing your Soda Jarritos to try to cover your face.

the dinner bled into the night, completely being filled with overjoyed laughter and deep conversations—still, slightly making fun of their spanish pronunciations.

Ellie was sat right next to you.

“pass me a tortilla, amor.” you let it out without a thought, you caught yourself, slightly stumbling as you tried to excuse the little epithet that left your lips.

you saw the way a wide shiteating smile tugged her lips as she reached her arm aceoss the table to pass you the traditional tortilla warmer for you to make tacos out of the asada.

you thought Ellie pretended to not hear atleast, as you began to bite into your taco; Ellie leaned into your ear.

“we’re gonna make sure everybody knows you’re mine—as i’ve been yours since that night, mama.”

dolls-taglist: ̗̀➛ @snowy-vee @elliesleftflap @tphmnv @starrkissezz @we-loveebony @lavenderhazelsworld @marsworlddd @kissthedewdrops @elliewilliamsgirl3 @graviewaviee @gato-chino @bunnyrose01 @bready101 @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @cosmopolitanaut @yumimak @elliewilliamgfooc @evangelinexo @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @luzthenarnian

a/n: i am indeed the mexican woman ellie is talking about that used to date joel 💖💓💞 matter of fact he in my bed rn !!! also i didnt add lyrics because i feel like the scene was too short ( might add them later still thinking)

in all seriousness though, thank you so much for the patience cus its basically EXAMS MONTH for my ass 😭 yall are amazing and @openupforme for keeping me going😽

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us fandom #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams series #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us ellie #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #GATÚ🌺

[featherandferns]

guilty as sin?(fic - part 2/2)

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | read part 1 here!

content warning: mentions of sexual content; mentions of parental abuse (drug misuse, physical abuse, neglect, emotional abuse); physical violence (blood) | any questions for trigger warnings, feel free to inbox anonymously

word count: 10k.

blurb: you and JJ start a secret relationship under the radar of your half-brother, John B. But with your life in Colorado becoming more and more unavoidable, and stupid slip-ups as the two of you grow closer, it becomes harder to keep your affair secret.

Daylight brings you out of your sleep, disoriented. You grunt and try to bury yourself deeper into the sheets, hiding from the sunlight. They smell like JJ. It relaxes you like a baby soothed by its favourite blanket. But then you remember what happened, and where you are, and that it’s morning. Sitting up, you glance around the bedroom and yep, this is definitely not my room. You look down to find JJ still sleeping, his face smushed into pillow. He’s on his front, the bedsheets mostly hogged by yours truly, showing his back decorated with scratch marks. A weird sense of pride overcomes you, like you’ve marked your territory. Sighing, you relax back into the bed. There’s a dull ache between your legs and you’re slightly sticky with sweat, but neither is particularly unpleasant. After a few minutes, you decide you can’t take the quiet anymore.

You roll over and prod at JJ’s face.

“Mhm, leave me alone, it’s the weekend.”

“Wake up. I’m bored,” you say.

You keep poking until he bats your hand away. With a long exhale, he rolls onto his side and cracks open an eye.

“Hi,” you smile. It’s hard not. You feel like you’ve slept with a coat hanger in your mouth.

“Hi.”

He reaches out a hand and strokes the side of your face, tucking some hair behind your ears. There’s a sleepy smile growing on his face as he wakes up.

“Sleep okay?” he rasps, voice croaky from want of use.

“Mhm. You?”

“Like a Goddamn baby.”

With another grunt and sigh, he shifts onto his back and reaches blindly for his phone on the nightstand. He checks the time first, and then his notifications, and suddenly he jolts up in bed, wide awake.

“Your brother’s been blowing me up.”

You stomach drops. “What?”

“He’s asking if I know where you are,” JJ says, reading the texts.

“Do you think he knows I’m here?” you worry.

Suddenly the tryst of last night loses its incandescent glow. Reality is there in the morning the same way sun sheds light on all things that happen in the dark.

JJ shakes his head, eyes fixated on his screen. “No, no. He’d have come over.”

“Oh, right,” you mumble. You sit up and gnaw on one of your nails. JJ shuts off his phone and looks at you. “We gotta come up with an alibi.”

“Right. Course,” he nods.

“Um…We can just say that I slept over.”

JJ looks at you like you just suggested to commit a joint felony and skip state.

“Not that I slept over, slept over. You can say you saw shit go down with Tom, you offered to give me a ride back, I was upset and fell asleep.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. I gave you the bed and I crashed on the couch, and we forgot to text him.”

“I think my phone’s dead anyway, so it’s not even a complete lie. And I did stay over here, so…”

JJ swallows. He nods and starts typing, sending the text. You both wait in pregnant silence for John B to respond. The minute it comes through, JJ reads it aloud.

“Cool. Just wanted to check she’s okay. Thanks for looking out for her.”

The sigh of relief the two of you share sounds rehearsed. As JJ types his reply, a question comes to mind. You’d spent all last night suppressing it, but now it spews out of you like word vomit.  

“Is this a bad idea?”

JJ sends the message and shuts off his phone, looking to you. “Is what a bad idea?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between the both of you. “Us.”

“No,” JJ replies, but his expression tells you otherwise. “No. ‘Sides, it’s only gonna happen the one time, right? No harm done. What John B doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Right. Yeah, the one time,” you echo.

JJ nods. “One time.”

Thank God neither of you are on the witness stand: you don’t sound very convincing. What was supposed to be a ‘get it out of the system’ affair might have unlocked some feral part of you that can’t go unfed. You didn’t have an extensive sexual history, but JJ blew all of them and your own psyche out of the water. That isn’t the kind of thing you can just walk away from, especially when you’ll see him every day.

“Just as long as John B doesn’t find out,” you hear yourself remark.

“Yeah. He’s got enough shit going on right now; we just need to be there for him.”

You nod.

“Sides. I made him a promise.”

Frowning, you ask, “a promise?”

“When you first came back to Kildare, I sort of brought up to John B that night at the bonfire, when you went to bed early, that I thought you were kinda cute. But he got ticked off. Told me you were going through a tough time and stuff, and to stay away from you. ‘If you’re a real friend, you’ll stay away from her’, to quote.”

“Yikes,” you mumble.

JJ nods, looking down at his hands. “Yep. Pretty clear message there.”

“Yeah, you really drove it home.”

He thankfully laughs at that.

“I mean, that’s some real Romeo and Juliet shit,” you add, laughing yourself.

He shakes his head. “Shit, I hope not. Don’t really wanna stab myself.”

“No, I stab myself. You just drink poison,” you correct.

“Yeah, I’m still not thrilled about that.”

You snigger and sink back into the pillows propped against his headrest. “I mean, it could be kinda fun, sneaking around.”

JJ raises a brow, lolling his head to the side to meet your gaze. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Little secret hook-ups and stuff…”

“You’re that horny, huh?”

You shove his shoulder, revelling in his laugh. He grabs your hand and presses a quick kiss to your wrist. Then he looks at you, smiles, and it’s almost like a silent agreement. This is not a one-time thing.

“Breakfast?”

“God, yes,” you sigh.

JJ’s kitchen isn’t just messy, it’s unclean. You can understand why: his dad doesn’t scream house-wife energy and JJ is hardly home. He’s also, as hard as it is to admit it, a teenage boy. In the fruit bowl there’s mouldy peaches and bananas which are black. Fruit flies are having a feast, so at least there’s some positives to the pandemonium. The fridge is barren apart from some bacon. He keeps bread in the freezer so at least that isn’t mouldy. You perch yourself on the counter, dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, and watch him cook. It’s domestic and dull and you love every moment. He serves up two bacon sandwiches and passes one to you. Stands between your legs as you eat, one of his hands taking purchase on your bare thigh.

“S’good,” you tell him through your chewing.

“Thanks. Bout as good as my cooking gets.”

“Mhm. I could live off bacon sandwiches,” you say.

JJ chuckles. “Think Kie might have something to say about that. About how pigs are killing the planet with deforestation and treated unhumanely and bla bla bla.”

“I love your passion for political issues,” you sarcastically remark. He pinches your thigh in retaliation. You laugh. It’s simple and stupid and blissful.

When the two of you are done eating, he adds your dirty dishes to the impressive stack in the sink and makes no move to clean them. You follow him back to his bedroom and the two of you get dressed. He recommends you shower back the Chateau and you take it as code for ‘our bathroom is disgusting’. Thankfully when you peed in the dark last night, you were too fucked-out to notice. Once dressed, you tame your hair with a comb in the mirror and let JJ press kisses into your neck. He’s like a koala bear: it’s impossible to keep his hands off you. How the fuck are we gonna sneak around?

“We should head back before John B gets suspicious,” you tell him, placing the comb back on his desk.

JJ nods. He looks mouth wateringly good in his muscle tee. “I’ll take you back on my bike.”

Every minute spent as a backpack on JJ’s bike, you tether yourself to him as closely as possible. Now that the barrier has been broken, everything has come flooding out. Those same feelings that you harboured back in your preteens have only grown with your age. And now he’s here, in your arms, and you don’t want to let go. As the Chateau comes into sight, you know you have to. John B is hanging in the hammock with Kie. JJ kicks out the stand and steps off, as do you, and you both walk over with a safe space between you.

“Hey! Here they are!”

“Hey!” you smile back, waving to Kiara.

“Jeez, you guys took your time this morning,” John B comments.

Before JJ can speak, you say, “yeah, I had one too many last night. Threw up and needed more sleep.”

“Welcome to Kildare,” Kie grins. You laugh and give a mock bow as if you’d passed some unspoken initiation.

“Right, well, I gotta head out. Helping Lou out with some jobs today,” JJ declares.

“Alright man. See you round,” Kiara says, her attention already back on her phone.

“And thanks for taking care of my little sister,” John B adds.

JJ looks down at you. There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he says. “Yeah, no problem. It was fun.”

Asshole.

Then he’s wandering off to his bike, leaving you stranded, having to act as if last night never happened. You head into the house and work on your watercolours. All you can seem to notice is that the colours of the marsh water are the same as JJ’s eyes. The same eyes you stared into as he came apart underneath you.

Shit. This is going to suck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sneaking around was…doable. If it weren’t for the Friday nights, you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope. Even then, the question grew more and more with each clandestine meeting. How long can this last?

Friday nights were spent at JJ’s house. You told John B that you were crashing at Lizzy’s, and JJ made up some bullshit excuse to get out of hanging out with the Pogues on Friday evenings: I gotta help my dad with this thing…The nights were spent tangled in bedsheets, pillow talk breaking up the unsated touching that made up for lost time. Your body is still recovering from the buzz of an orgasm when your phone starts to buzz on the nightstand.

JJ leans over and picks it up. His chest is damp with sweat from the nightly antics. He rolls back over to you and holds out your phone.

“Your mom’s calling.”

“Let it go to voicemail,” you tell him, not sparing it a glance.

JJ does as you say and when the ‘missed call’ notification appears, it’s accompanied by ‘(23)’.

“You ignoring her or something?” JJ asks, alluding to the pile-up of missed calls.

You look to him and shrug. “Or something.”

“What’s going on with all that, anyway?”

Your intestines twist uncomfortably. “What’d you mean?”

“I mean, why aren’t you in Colorado for the summer?”

“I told you. I wanted a change of scenery,” you say.

JJ laughs, unconvinced. “Bull-shit. You haven’t come back here in years, and you’re closer to L.A. than North Carolina. Why not go there? It’s warmer.”

“Hardly,” you say. “And it’s full of fake people. Influencers and tourists. And the traffic is—”

“Think we’re getting off topic?” JJ wonders, raising a brow.

You take your phone off him and clear the notifications, as if washing away your mom’s presence in your life entirely. Sitting up, you shove your hair off your face and dump your phone on the windowsill.

“What does it matter, JJ? So I wanted to come to Kildare again – who cares?”

“I care,” JJ replies. He sits up too.

You snort, irritation tickling at your throat. “What? Cause we’re fucking you think you deserve an explanation?”

He frowns. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“‘Fucking’. Like this thing between us isn’t deeper than that,” he argues.

Swallowing your anger, you sigh and close your eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just…It’s complicated.”

When you open your eyes, they land on your phone. The screen lights up as if on cue, and you know it’s your mom chasing you down for the millionth time. You’re not sure why keep avoiding her, like the problem might go away if you ignore it. It’s like a tumour: leaving it be will only cause it to fester and grow, and be all the more awful to deal with later. But facing the truth is so painfully hard. You lean over and turn your phone off completely.

“I thought John B already told you about it all, anyway,” you quietly say.

“Not really. Only that you were going through a tough time,” JJ replies.

Sighing, you lean back into the pillows.

Finding a small smile, you sardonically ask,  “alright. You wanna hear my sob story?”

JJ sniggers but it isn’t mean. He shuffles closer so you can rest against him. His body was always more comfortable than his bedding anyway. That is his silent answer: yes.

“My mom got in this accident at work two years ago. They put her on Tylenol but it didn’t help, so they switched her to OxyContin. She got hooked pretty quick and started dating this dirt-bag Rick. He was her dealer and kept her supplied, cause most of the pharmacies cut her off when it was pretty obvious she was abusing,” you say.

It feels easier to get it all out in one go, like you might lose nerve if you don’t just commit.

“Rick’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t like me for whatever reason so he chips away at me. Just dumb stuff that probably doesn’t even sound that bad out of context, but when you’re in it, and someone’s picking away at you…It gets to you.”

JJ starts to stroke at your hairline. It prompts you to continue.

“Anyway, he started stealing my shit to sell, to keep him and my mom going. She couldn’t keep a job held down much so I started working to help out with bills. But then Rick started stealing my paychecks and spending my money on useless crap or drugs. I got angry and confronted them and…And my mom took his side, over me.”

You sigh and meddle with your fingers. The tears start to sting but you’re so tired of wallowing over it. You’ve wasted too much energy on her.

“I don’t think it’s a newsflash that she’s not the best mom. I mean, she left me with Big John for four years, dragged me across the country and never contacted her only son again. But it just hurt, having the person that brought you into the world pick a stranger over you, y’know?”

You eventually feel JJ nod against you. It’s not a feeling you have to describe for him; he knows more than anyone to feel pain at the hand of someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally.

“Rick got ticked off that I tried to go against him, so he got meaner. Left my room a mess, made me do the chores, dumb petty crap like that. The worst thing was when he found my paintings though. He tore them up and ruined them. Scribbled over them. And I know they’re just drawings, and I know this is going to sound dumb,” you warn, laughing self-deprecatingly. “But they were my escape. I hated it there, but I could draw these worlds and feel like they were just for me, and I could exist there instead. And even that was taken from me.”

Images that you repressed flash back into your mind. The enchanting gardens and psychedelic landscapes mottled with black ink, indistinguishable. The way it felt like your heart might fall out of your chest and shatter on your bedroom floor when you found scraps of your paintings tossed around your room.

You clear the memories with a shallow sigh.

“Anyway…” you continue. “I got lonely. Working and all the crap at home made me miss a lot of school. I didn’t have many friends anyway. The thought of spending a whole summer there was just…I couldn’t do it. So I hit up John B and boom. Here I am.”

JJ stares at you, digesting the story. It’s certainly not as chirpy and simple as ‘I wanted a change of scenery.’ It’s scary to strip yourself down to your most vulnerable core. Different to being naked and exposed during sex: almost worse.

“And you’re gonna go back there? When the summer ends?” JJ asks.

You look up at him. You can’t pick-out one emotion on his face, there’s so many. Anger, sadness, vengeance, concern…

“Yes. No. I don’t…” you cut yourself off with a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I do,” JJ is quick to return. “You should stay here.”

“What? And burden John B forever?”

“Sure. Why not?”

You laugh. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Cause you’re forgetting that I’m a minor, JJ. And that Big John is missing, and John B is living alone illegally. If I try to transfer here and get emancipated from my mom, it’ll just open that whole can of worms and could do more damage than good. Me and John B could both end up in foster care, and I might still get sent back to Colorado either way.”

JJ wasn’t expecting such a thorough response. It was laughable that he thought you hadn’t debated moving back to Kildare. That was your original plan, until you contacted John B and found out his dad was gone. A summer escape felt like the best option, like a breath of fresh air away from your stifling homelife, but it wasn’t a long-term fix. Life was too convoluted for that.

“Why does it have to be legal? Just run away,” JJ eventually says.

You quirk a brow tiredly. “Run away? What, like I’m ten years old and didn’t get my choice on the TV?”

“I’m serious,” JJ sighs. He shifts, kneeling before you, holding your gaze. “Fuck the government and whatever. Just stay here. Nobody’s gonna rat you out.”

“What about school?”

“Pope can tutor you,” he says.

“And a place to stay?”

“John B’s room and my place. Hell, maybe Kiara’s folks have a spare room too.”

Your heart melts a little. He’s so determined.

Smiling sadly, you stroke his face lovingly. You don’t want to snuff out his last slither of hope. So, you gently tell him, “Maybe.”

“Yeah? You’ll think about it?” he hopefully asks.

You nod, heart clenching with the lie. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.”

You’re glad he kisses you then, because you can’t bare looking at him a moment longer knowing that in a month, you’ll be gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hurricane Agatha was a bitch. You’re amazed you managed to sleep through as much of the storm as you did.

You venture out your bedroom to find JJ leant against the doorframe of the porch. He’s already drinking a beer, early in the morning. You spot John B out in the backyard. He’s moving fallen branches out the way to recover the H.M.S. Pogue, back facing you. Breezing past JJ, you take advantage of John B’s distraction, slapping your unofficial boyfriend on the butt. He cusses, pinching your own as you head down the stairs. It’s the most you’ve been able to touch each other in over twenty-four hours without raising suspicion. You join your brother in ridding the boat of leaves and sticks. JJ wanders over.

“Whatcha thinking?” he asks.

“I’m thinkin’ that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All those drum are gonna chase the crab.” As he replies, John B clambers into the boat.

“What about the DCS? Wasn’t that today?” JJ asks.

John B had tried to keep as much of the DCS nightmare out of your line of sight, but you weren’t stupid. It certainly helped that you were sleeping with his best friend, a guy infamous for having loose lips. To say that John B getting found out would do some damage to yourself would be an understatement.

“Nah, they’re not getting on a ferry,” John B replies.

You look to JJ. He’s leant forward on the nose of the boat. His slender frame and well-kept body is frustratingly attractive when you can do nothing about it.

“Come on, think about it. It’s God telling us to fish!” John B says.

JJ shrugs. “I mean, I’m down. Just gotta take a leak first.”

John B says your name, drawing your attention back to him. “You coming?”

“Think I’m gonna stay in. Paint.”

JJ clears his throat, mumbling out ‘boring’ as he does. You mirthfully roll your eyes. Tapping the boat in farewell, you give a small wave.

“Have fun!”

There’s the crunch and snapping of twigs and leaves as JJ follows you back to the Chateau. You wander to the bathroom and retrieve your toothbrush. JJ joins you, shrugging his shorts down to pee. There’s no need to fill the domesticated sounds of living with chatter. Outside, John B continues to clear the boat. You spit into the sink and step aside so JJ can wash his hands. He brushes some of your hair off your shoulder when he’s done, leaning down to press a kiss on the spot where your neck becomes your shoulder. His hair tickles your skin and you laugh around your toothbrush.

“You sure you don’t wanna come today?” he asks, looping his arms around your waist.

You nod and spit into the sink again. His eyes meet yours through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve got some ideas I’ve wanted to get down for a while now, but I’ve been a little distracted.”

He grins at the insinuation.

“You looking forward to your birthday next week?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, toothbrush back in mouth.

“You know what you want?”

“Mm-mm,” you say, shaking your head.

His grip tightens ever so slightly around you. “I’ve got a few ideas…”

One of his hands comes to hand on the middle of your upper back, coaxing you to lean forward over the bathroom sink. With that, he crudely pretends to take you from behind. Rolling your eyes, you wriggle out of his hold.

“You’re disgusting,” you say with a mouth full of toothpaste.

“You love it,” he quips. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

“See ya.”

JJ plants another kiss to your bare shoulder, blows a raspberry, and laughs as you swat him away. There’s the open and shut of the front door, his energetic chatter with your brother, grunts and groans as they move the boat to the water, and then the sound of JJ’s whoops and hollers as they set off into the town. It’s quiet in the house without them there. You find JJ’s sweatshirt on the pull-out and shrug it on. The smell calms your soul. Taking purchase at the dining table, you retrieve your phone to find the service is out.

“Let’s see you try and call me now,” you mumble to your device, indirectly talking to your mother.

The watercolours you’ve accumulated over the past  few weeks of living in Kildare could be made into a tourist guide. Whilst the gang helped at Heyward’s, you painted the shop front during a lemonade break; days spent on the H.M.S Pogue gave you drawings of the Marsh; evenings on the waterfront let you capture the beauty of the ocean. The bonfire and the hammock; JJ’s surf shack; your claimed bedroom in the Chateau…The more you painted, the more you fell in love with Kildare, and the more you wanted to stay. You refill your mason jar with fresh water and begin to work on your latest picture. It’s of JJ’s bedroom. You’ve spent enough time in there to recall it from memory. It feels like your corner of the world, safe away from prying eyes.

As the day stretches on, the group returns to the Chateau. You hear their loud chatter as they approach the house, and it seems to merge into some kind of argument when they get to the porch. Itabruptly ends after your brother announces: just let me think. You ditch your paint, hiding the artwork under less incriminating pieces, and head out to join them. JJ sits in the red armchair you’re so fond of, flicking his lighter. Kiara is on the sofa and you take the spot beside her, frowning at your brother’s face; he’s deep in thought.

“What’s going on?” you ask. You hope it isn’t the DCS.

Before anyone can reply, Pope comes racing up the stairs.

“Okay, so um, we didn’t see anything. We don’t know anything.”

You frown deepens. “What?”

He drops down onto the spot beside you, ignoring your question. “We need to have total and complete amnesia,” he tells John B.

“Actually, Pope’s right for once,” JJ says from the armchair. You all look over to him. “See, I agree with you sometimes.”

He gets to his feet, wandering towards John B. “Deny, deny, deny.”

“Guys, we can’t keep that money,” Kiara declares.

“Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara,” JJ tells her.

Now you’re annoyed. “What money? What the hell is going on!?”

“We found a boat,” John B replies.

“There was a key in the boat,” Pope continues.

“The key unlocked a motel room door,” Kie says.

“And we found a shit ton of money. And a gun,” JJ finishes.

“A gun?” you gape. He nods.

“Which he stole,” Kie points out.

Your mouth hangs open even more, if that is somehow possible. “You kept the gun, JJ?”

“It was a good gun,” he defends, throwing his arms up.

Idiot. You drop your head into your hands. “I leave you guys alone for one day…”

“I was trying to be the voice of reason!” Pope tells you, defending himself.

You shake your head. “Wait? Whose money and gun was it? Whose boat was it?”

“Scooter Grubbs,” John B replies.

“We have to pass the money on to Lana Grubbs, otherwise it’s bad karma,” Kiara says.

“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too,” Pope chimes in.

Felony? Yeah, you’re already pushing it staying with your half-brother, unsupervised in a state different to your mom who doesn’t exactly know where you’ve gone…

“We gotta go dark,” he finishes.

JJ paces past the three of you, saying, “if that means we get to keep the money, then I agree.”

As he comes to a stop in front of the porch entryway, John B seems to return to the room, out of his thoughts. He pats JJ’s bare shoulder. “I don’t agree.”

“What? Why?”

“Just think about it,” John B says. “This is Scotter Grubbs we’re talking about. Alright? Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas.”

All of you watch John B’s spiel. “We’re talking about a dirtbag marina rat who’s never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he’s got a Grady-White? Just sayin’.”

“Wait? What’s a Grady-White?” you ask, looking to JJ. He fills you in. Short answer: a very expensive boat.

“Well, I vote we don’t keep the money,” Pope says.

“I vote we keep it,” JJ disputes, lifting his hand. He looks to John B but he doesn’t respond. Then he looks to you, and you crumble under the gaze, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

“Let’s take the day to think about it,” Kiara says.

And that you do. You all venture onto the jetty to fish. You stand beside JJ as he waits for something to bite, fighting the urge to lean against him. John B continues chattering away to Pope, painting the scene of a drug smuggling industry. Him and JJ agree that if he was ‘straight smuggling’, there’s probably more contraband in the boat wreck. Somehow you all wind up in your bedroom, and Pope finally relents. He agrees to rummage the wreck for contraband but ensures to underline how stupid he thinks it is.

“Right, well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time,” JJ philosophises. You watch him fan out the money.

You can’t help but feel the saying can relate to your own secret romance. Is it a stupid, remarkably bad idea to keep fooling around? Yes. Is the temporary outcome good? Hell yes.

“All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Act normal.”

“Right, and how exactly do we do that?” Pope asks from your bed.

“Keggar?” Kie offers.

Everyone shares a look. You sigh. “I can’t. I gotta go to work.”

“The restaurants probably a wreck. Just skip,” JJ responsibly says.

You shake your head. “Well, I gotta help out even if it is. Lizzy’s probably gonna be there anyway.”

“You gonna want a lift back later?” John B wonders.

You look to JJ. He’s already watching you. “Nah, I’ll just sleep at Lizzy’s.”

He knows the code. Gives the vaguest, barely-there nod in confirmation. The group gets up, everyone filtering out the bedroom door into the main of the house, chattering about what drinks to get and how to round everyone up with the cell towers down. JJ lingers in your room a moment longer, keeping you there with a gentle grab of your wrist.

“What time should I come get you?”

“Ten,” you reply. “Outside the restaurant.”

“You got it,” he nods.

A chaste kiss and then the two of you let go of one another, joining the others in the main room. Your heart is hammering so loud you’re surprised nobody can hear it. It felt like you were playing with fire, kissing so close to the others. And fire is known for one thing: it burns.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There’s a pattern seen in serial killers. After the first five or so murders, they start to slack. Cover their tracks less, take larger risks. You and JJ weren’t out killing anyone – despite his reckless ordeal at the keggar which you later heard about through the grapevine – but you weren’t being as vigilant as when it first started out. The two of you had started to get sloppy.

Now two weeks into the illicit affair, you could hardly recall the last full truth you told John B. Your alibis were harder to keep track of. Your excuses started to weaken. And your ability to keep your hands off JJ became near to impossible. Even if it was a fleeting touch, a loving stroke of his tousled hair…It was almost reflexive. One time Kiara caught you wipe something off his cheek. The moment you saw her in your peripheral, you acted as though you were messing with him, sticking a finger in his ear to get a reaction. But she saw it, and it was a stupid thing to do.

In JJ’s bedroom, there’s a collection of your things. They’ve accumulated over time the way rocks build up on a shoreline: slow and steady, until they’re everywhere. Hair ties scattered along the desk, skincare on his bedside table, spare clothes and underwear in his closet, a toothbrush in the bathroom (that he reluctantly cleaned up). The biggest tell was your art supplies. If John B were to walk in, there’d be questions. JJ wasn’t exactly known as a monogamous guy or an artist. Your brother wasn’t stupid: you reckon he could put the pieces together pretty damn quickly. But it was hard to find it in you to care, when staying with JJ on Friday nights felt like you were playing house.

You’d asked to help him shave the other day after he gave you beard burn on the inside of your thighs. That’s how you find yourself sat on the countertop, precariously balanced on the edge of the bathroom sink, with a razor in hand. He’s stood between your legs, running a finger up and down your thigh, and watching you as you work. Every now and then you clean the razor of hairs in the sink, filled with water. One of your hands cradles his jawline, the other delicately tracing the razor down his cheek, along the apex of his neck.

“Two more days and you’ve caught up with us,” JJ says, referring to your upcoming birthday.

You smile, looking up to meet his gaze. God, you could drawn in his eyes, drift away in them. “About damn time.”

“I think Kie’s made you a cake.”

“That’s sweet,” you hum.

“Your mom gonna call?”

“Probably,” you sigh.

They’d fixed the cell towers now. An influx of texts came through, namely asking if you were safe after the hurricane. You felt the need to say that you were and did so with a simple ‘thumbs up’ reaction. That was the most you’d said to her in a month and a half.

JJ distracts you from thoughts of your mom by tracing the scar lining your elbow. The same scar that helped JJ place a name to your face after so long apart. “Remember when you broke this,” he says.

“Same. Think it’s the most pain I’ve ever been in,” you snort.

“You wouldn’t stop crying. I had to kiss you on the forehead just to get you to shut up,” he sniggers.

JJ and John B had been climbing a tree and you didn’t want to be left behind. You also wanted to impress a certain blonde-haired boy. But you lost your footing and fell, landing at a wonky angle. It was embarrassing, and painful, and embarrassing a couple more times.

“Yeah, I remember that too,” you say, smiling. “I had the biggest crush on you. I thought I was going to faint when you did it.”

“You had a crush on me?” JJ asks.

You pull away enough for him to see your face. It perfectly says really, man? He laughs. You resume your previous position.

“You were always cute.”

“Yeah right. You always saw me as John B’s little sister.”

“Well, yeah. But you were sweet. You used to bring me Hershey kisses.”

Your face feels burning hot. God, you were so subtle back then. “Stop talking or I’m gonna nick you by accident.”

He obliges, his shit-eating grin slowly fading as you work. The satisfying scrape of the razor ridding JJ of facial hair comes to an end with one final swipe. You clean the razor, wipe him clean with a wet flannel, and plant a kiss to his lips.

“Done.”

He steps around you and leans forward, inspecting himself in the mirror. He strokes at his skin, sucking his teeth with an impressed expression.

“Pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You finally gonna quit complaining about my beard making you itchy?”

“Look! It’s left a mark!” you defend, opening your legs and gesturing to the inside of your thighs.

JJ grins. He slides his large palms along the inside of your quads, fingers spanning out across the skin.

“Wanna give the new shave a test run?” he asks.

He sinks to his knees. Your smile grows, heart trilling with erotic excitement. Your fingers loop through his golden hair, nails scratching at his scalp. He places two kisses to your thigh, working towards your core. Fingers hooking onto the waistband of your shorts, you hoist yourself up so he can begin to wiggle them down your legs.

The sound of the front door slamming shut has you both freezing.

Luke Maybank clears his throat, walking into the house. You pull your shorts back up, heart loud in your throat. JJ gets to his feet and pulls the plug from the sink, draining it of water. Then you both stare wide eyed into the living room of the house. Luke collapses on the couch with a sigh, beer bottle in hand. JJ helps you down from the counter, quietly placing you on the floor. You’re not sure what to do. What the best approach is. What kind of mood Luke is in. Following JJ’s lead seems the best way to go. He looks away from the room to you. His gaze is steely and determined.

“Go into my room and go out the window,” JJ instructs in a whisper.  

You nod and don’t argue. Slowly, you slink down the corridor and slide into JJ’s bedroom. You push the door closed gently, hoping for it click into the frame without drawing attention.

“JJ? That you?” Luke calls.

Cringing, you shut your eyes, hang your head, and press it against the door. You hear JJ pass the bedroom.

“Y-yeah, I’m here.”

“Thought you were at Routledge’s house,” Luke says. His voice is gruff and reminds you of sandpaper.

“Nah. Not tonight,” JJ replies. He doesn’t sound like his usual self: carefree and jovial. No, he sounds guarded. On edge, like he’s working with a wild animal, unsure of how it may react. “Thought you were out tonight too.”

“What? I can’t come back to my own home whenever I want?”

“No, course. Course you can,” JJ says.

You don’t want to leave him alone with his dad, but you know staying is risky. If Luke finds you whilst he’s in a rage, it might make things worse. He might lash out at JJ, or worse, he might turn on you. So, you slink across the room and step onto JJ’s desk, using his chair as a boost. The window slides open with little effort and you hook a leg over. The other joins it and you dangle a moment, looking down at where to land. It’s a drop about the same height as you. Bracing yourself, you bend your knees as you hit the grass. Another glance is spared to the house. It’s quiet: no shouting or fighting. Sighing, feeling as if you’re betraying JJ somehow, you begin to walk home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

As you round the corridor into the living room, your heart sinks in disappointment when you don’t find JJ asleep out on the pull-out. Instead, the bed is half-made and abandoned. You haven’t seen JJ since you snuck out of his house last Friday. Sighing, you turn into the kitchen and open the fridge. A few gulps of orange juice out of the carton count as your breakfast. Looking to the calendar stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you point on today’s date.

“Happy birthday, me,” you mumble.

A pair of arms grab you from behind, picking you up off the floor. You yelp out in surprise.

“Happy birthday!” John B cheers.

Laughing, you let him shake you before returning you safely to the floor. Turning around, you find John B digging about in his short pockets. He retrieves a small, wrapped package and hands it to you.

“Happy sweet seventeenth.”

“The big one-seven,” you reply, thanking him.

You uncover a small pendant necklace made of sterling silver. It’s shaped like the North Carolina state. Lips moving, you give a small breath of admiration, stunned at its simple beauty.

“You like it?” he checks. You get the sense that he doesn’t buy a lot of jewellery. Looking up, you feel tears sting at your eyes. Throwing your arms around your older brother’s shoulders, you hug him.

“I love it. Thank you.”

“Course. I figured that way you always have a piece of Kildare with you,” John B says.

It’s a bittersweet sentiment. There’s only a month left of your stay in Kildare. Colorado and your life there looms like a storm cloud in the future, warning of an unavoidable downpour.

You pass the necklace to him. “Will you?”

As you turn, pulling your hair up and out the way, John B loops the necklace around your neck. When its secured, you drop your hair and turn back to him.

“How do I look?”

“Like a Pogue,” he grins.

You squeeze him in another hug before letting him grab some breakfast.

JJ doesn’t answer his phone. He doesn’t reply to texts or pick up calls. It’s frustrating as hell. You keep checking your phone as you shower, as you dress and as you do your make-up. As you finish putting on mascara, it starts to buzz. You don’t even check the caller ID: you just answer.

“Hello?”

“Oh, so you are alive.”

Mom.

You can’t speak. Can’t find enough air in your lungs to formulate words. Even if you could, nothing comes to mind. Nothing.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” you manage out.

“Well I guess I should say happy birthday.”

It’s incredible how such a sweet statement sounds bitter on her tongue.

“Thanks,” you reply.

“So, I’m guessing you must have been pretty busy this summer. That’s the only way to explain the radio silence since you left,” she says.

“Mom, I—”

“I’m talking now. Not you.”

You swallow. Thank God you skipped breakfast: you feel sick to your stomach.

“When are you coming back home?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She laughs. “Well, you have to come back sometime.”

“Says who?” you snap.

There’s a tense silence. “Says me.”

You don’t speak. Suddenly, JJ’s stupid idea of running away seems incredible smart.

“I’m staying in Kildare for at least another month,” you tell her.

“At least?”

“Yes. At least.”

“And then what? You’re going to become a nomad? Hitchhike around the country?”

“And then…Then it’s none of your concern. It won’t be your problem; it’ll be mine.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” your mom says, tone sharp like broken glass. “You’re coming home the minute the summer ends.”

Your patience twists into something dark and unfamiliar. Rage clouds your vision and your mind.

“Home? Is that what you call that place? Because Colorado hasn’t felt like home to me ever, mom. Ever.”

“You’re making a big thing—”

“No, I’m not,” you snap. Getting to your feet, you begin to pace the room. “You don’t even want me there! You just want my money. You don’t want me. You don’t even pay attention to me!”

“I’m busy trying to keep us alive,” you mom argues.

“Alive? Is that what you call it?” You can’t help but laugh. “If that’s ‘alive’, mom, then I don’t want it.”

“Just…Look, we’re just saying things, alright? You can come home, and we can talk, and we can work things out,” she says, sounding more human.

But you can’t believe it. Can’t trust it. It’s like a glass that’s been broken over and over again. You can glue it together, keeping most of the pieces in place, but it’ll never be as beautiful as it was before. Your mom is forever tainted in your mind. The damage is already done.

Pressing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath. “I’m staying here, mom.”

She begins to say your name, but you cut her off.

“I’m staying in Kildare. I’m staying here with John B, and JJ, and Kiara. They’re taking care of me. I’m okay. I’m eating, and I’m earning money, and I’m safe. But I can’t come back to Colorado. Not until Rick leaves…”

You feel your lower lip tremble.

“And not until you get clean.”

She’s silent for a minute. A long, long minute.

“And what if I don’t want you to stay in Kildare?” she asks. Her voice is quiet when she says it, like she’s powerless. And maybe she is.

It doesn’t feel good when you reply, “then I’ll report you and Rick to the cops, for child neglect and drug dealing.”

When people play chess, there’s a certain moment that the game is won. Check and mate. It’s a strategy game. You feel the moment your mom realises she’s lost. Your final piece takes position, and she’s rendered useless. She can either surrender - and let you stay in Kildare without complaint or contest - or force your hand to knock her off the board with a quick phone call to the police.

“And you’re safe?” she whispers.

Your heart splinters. It wasn’t her fault she got addicted, but it was her fault that she wasn’t there for you when you needed her most. They say time heals all wounds and you pray that to be true.

“I’m safe,” you assure her, voice wavering.

She doesn’t speak for a few seconds.

Then, quietly, she says, “well, happy birthday. Just…don’t ignore me like that again. I need to know that you’re okay.”

You nod. The tears start to fall and you press your lips together. “Okay, mom. I’ll text you. I promise.”

Through a shaky breath, you feel the three words form on your tongue. Three words that you haven’t said to her since you left North Carolina. But before they can pass through your lips, she clicks off the line without another word. You let out a pained sob. It’s so strange to get everything you ever wanted, and nothing that you wanted at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your birthday passes by in a blink.

After the phone call with your mom, you sobbed for an hour. John B came knocking and held you through it, and when you asked if it was okay for you stay for the foreseeable future, he seemed more than ecstatic. All we have is each other, now. There’s something strangely tethering about trauma.

Pope and Kiara came around in the early afternoon. She’d made the most incredible birthday cake. Sage green buttercream frosting with edible flowers arranged around the rim. In the centre it had 17 written in white icing. They sang happy birthday and lit the candles, and as you blew them out, you wished for JJ to show up. Apparently, nobody had heard from him lately. It filled your stomach with led.

After asking what you wanted to do, the four of you relaxed in the backyard. It was an excuse to drink and listen to music. Pope discussed the latest book he read with you as you rocked in the hammock. John B began to talk about the Royal Merchant. He’d seemingly become more and more enthralled in the shipwreck. Whilst you’d been at work, covering shifts for people affected by the hurricane, they’d been pursuing the whole Grady-white shipwreck. Turns out, it was all connected to the royal merchant and Big John. You weren’t sure how you felt about that revelation. The group also seemed to be dubious. So, when Kie fell into a discussion about the treasure hunt with your older brother, you happily tuned it out.

Around seven, Kie and Pope left. John B seemed pretty exhausted so he said he was going to get an early night. You agreed and trudged into your room, but sleep wouldn’t come no matter how drained you felt. As per routine, at ten, you slip into your crocs and head into the living room, sights set on the porch. You stop short. The porch light filters into the main bulk of the room.

“JJ,” you whisper to yourself.

Walking out, opening the door, you find him on the couch. For once, he’s facing the doorway. He looks up from his lighter that he’s been messing with and meets your gaze. At the sight of his lips twitching up at the corners, you break into a smile and rush over. Practically wrestle him into a hug. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you. The way he holds you feel holy. Two days apart and you felt like you were having withdrawal.

“Happy to see me?”

“Where the hell have you been?” you ask into his t-shirt.

He pulls away. You sit on his lap, looking down at him, surveying his face for injuries.

“I got roped into some shit with my dad,” he says.

“He didn’t…”

You can’t bring yourself to ask, but your hand outstretching, tracing his features for some sign of pain, finishes the question.

He shakes his head, taking your hand from his face to intertwine it with his own.

“No, no. Just had to keep him busy, really. Helped out at the harbour and shit. Dropped my phone in the water like a dumbass.”

Ah. That explains the radio silence.

JJ smiles up at you. “Anyway. I’ve back now.”

“Good,” you say. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he mumbles.

One of his hands reaches up to play with a strand of your hair. He lets it go, it falls into the mess atop of your head, and he traces his fingers down your body before resting at your hip. All the while, JJ stares at you, taking you in like he’s taking in an eclipse. Like you’re something that deserves to be admired.

“Happy birthday,” he says.

You smile, bright like a supernova. “Thanks.”

“Good day?”

You’re not sure how to tell him about the greatest gift of all: your mom letting you stay in Kildare. So, you just nod dumbly. JJ picks the pendent of your necklace off your skin, inspecting it.

“Who got you this? It’s pretty.”

“My mistress,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes.

“John B.”

“It’s pretty,” he repeats, letting it sit against your skin once more. He lets his touch linger against your sternum. God, you missed him. “Kie’s cake good?”

“Mhm. There’s some left in the kitchen. I’ll get us some,” you say.

You move to climb off him to retrieve a couple of slices but JJ grabs at your hips, keeping you in place and capturing your attention once more.

“Gotta give you your gift first.”

JJ leans down to retrieve your present from under the sofa where he’s stashed it. He hands it to you, a brown paper parcel finished with garden string, with a foreign nervous smile on his face.

“I hope they’re the right ones.”

Confused by what he might mean, you begin to open it. The brown paper crinkles in your hands as you unwrap your present. A small, elated gasp falls out your mouth as you lay your eyes on a set of Winsor and Newton watercolour paints. You trace a finger over the silver tin as if to prove you aren’t hallucinating.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

Winsor and Newton paints. The worlds that you can illustrate flash through your mind, igniting your imagination in ways that you haven’t experienced for years. You feel a quivering smile, overwhelmed with emotion for the paints and for the boy who bestowed them upon you, and look up. He’s smiling, watching you, and you lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love them. Thank you, JJ.”

His arms wrap safely around your middle, pulling you against him in the embrace. You move your lips to his, sighing as you finally reconnect through the kiss. When you break apart, only a hair’s width between your mouth and his, you feel those same words from earlier today fly up and through you.

“I love you.”

You say it quiet and private, like a prayer.

His eyes falter to meet your own. There’s a nervous breath as he takes in your declaration.

“I love you too,” he breathes.

As you kiss, you feel your heart melt into liquid gold. For once in your life, things feel as though they’re falling into place. The rough brush of JJ’s tongue prying into your mouth has you tilting your head. You let him imbibe you. You treasure the way his rough hands, worn from work on the harbour, slip under your t-shirt. His touch is cold against your burning skin.

“What the fuck.”

Fool’s gold.

You startle at the interruption, head spinning to find John B stood on the porch. He’s gaping at you and JJ like he may have just seen a ghost. Disbelief and horror shadow his face.

“John…” you choke.

His eyes flit from you, from your lips, to JJ. To his hand still under your shirt. To his hand planted securely on your hip. To how you’re sat in his lap. To your own tethered into his hair. To your own wrapped lovingly around his neck. It’s as incriminating as finding a murderer holding the knife above a dead body. No excuse, no justification. Nothing. No alibi can save you now. It’s a clean and shut case.

“What the fuck is going on?” John B mutters. His thoughts seem to be catching up with him second by second. His chest begins to rise, anger flaring his veins, and his expression hardens. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Look, man, just—”

But your brother strides over and practically rips JJ out from under you. You hear yourself scream out as he shoves JJ onto the porch floor, landing a hard punch into his jaw. JJ takes the hits, doesn’t even try to fight back, only fumbles to try and push John B off him. You start to scream like a hysteric. Shriek for him to stop. Beg for him to. You grapple at John B’s shirt, trying to pull him off your boyfriend, as he lands hit after hit. The sound is sickening, of flesh hitting flesh. You feel tears fall down your cheeks in panic as he refuses to let up.

“Get off him, John!” you screech.

Finally, you pull him off. The two of you tumble to the floor.

JJ turns onto his side, coughing and spitting out blood, groaning in pain. He lifts a finger to dap at his lip, wincing as he draws it back to find it red. You go to help him, to check that there’s no lasting damage, but John B holds you back. He moves towards his best friend once more but you grab at his shirt.

“John, please don’t,” you blubber, trying to keep him away.

He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, taking a slow, measured breath to try and calm his rage. Then, he turns his head to you. The betrayal in his eyes makes you sob.

The sound of JJ’s groans has the attention back on him. He’s struggling to his knees, a hand coming to cradle his jaw.

“Shit, JB. You can throw a hell of a punch,” JJ mutters. He spits out more blood. It makes you cringe.

JJ gets to his feet. John B follows. You can’t find strength to get off the floor. Your eyes are transfixed for a while on the pool of blood where JJ laid.

“You promised me,” John B seethes.

You look up and finally muster the courage to stand. You watch as JJ looks to you. Can see how he wants to grab you and console you just like he used to when you were a child. Just like he did when you fell out of the tree. But his better judgement makes him decide against it.

“It’s not what it looks like, alright?” JJ tries, voice steady.

“Not what it looks like? What? You groping my little sister isn’t what it looks like?” John B barks.

JJ scowls. “I wasn’t groping her. And she’s hardly your little sister. You’re less than a year older than her!”

That pisses your brother off more. He takes a step towards JJ but you reach an arm out, stopping him.

“She’s vulnerable, JJ.”

You frown. Offense stings in your heart. Does he really think you so defenceless? So incapable of judging others for yourself?

“She’s seventeen, John B. She can make her own choices without you making them for her,” JJ argues. “She knows what’s in her best interest.”

“Oh? And you’re her best interest?” John B scoffs.

JJ’s gaze darkens. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

No. No, this is not helping. It’s only making matters worse.

“You know what I mean! You fuck a new girl every other week! You can’t keep your fingers off other people’s shit, you lie like you’ve been doing it since day one—”

“John-”

Your quiet plea goes ignored. John B takes another challenging step towards JJ. You can’t hold him back. He’s stronger than you. They both are.

“You’re gonna end up in a cell just like your dad and leave my sister as collateral when you get bored of sleeping with a girl whose been in love with you since she was a kid.”

JJ’s fist hits John B square on the cheek. John B hurls his own punch and they end up in some messy wrestle. They fall onto the coffee table and fumble out weak throws. Fear for what may happen to either of them makes you act with stupidity. You dart forward and try to pry them off one another. Somewhere in the chaos, a stray punch hits you in the nose. Pain blinds you. You yelp and fall backwards against the couch, hands flying up to your face. They stop. JJ utters your name.

When you pull your shaking hand away, you find it soaked with blood. Your chest heaves with panic as the pain sets in. JJ shoves John B off and comes to your side.

“S’alright, s’alright,” he soothes.

You’re not like JJ. You don’t take hits like it’s your day job. You’ve never been punched in your life. The last major injury you sustained was your broken arm, back when you were thirteen. Sobbing in pain, you feel yourself panic at the sight of flowing blood.

“S’okay. Lean forward, alright? You gotta lean forward,” JJ instructs.

He shifts you so you’re sitting on the floor, back against the sofa. You let him guide your fingers to the bridge of your nose and pinch at the soft skin. There’s the distant sound of John B rushing into the house. You don’t see it, though. Your eyes are pressed shut to not look at the blood.

“You feel okay?”

“I feel sick,” you mumble. And not just from the nosebleed.

“S’alright. It’ll stop soon,” JJ reassures.

He strokes your back lovingly, dragging your hair off your face as your head bows forward. You choke on the metallic taste that trickles into your other senses. God, everything is a mess.

“Here, here,” John B mutters.

You crack open your eyes to see him drop to his knees beside you. He hands JJ a towel. JJ lifts it to your nose, wiping some of the blood off your skin before holding it steady below your nostrils. It soaks with blood.

“Shit, should she be bleeding that much?” John B asks JJ.

“She’ll be fine,” JJ snaps. He probably doesn’t want to freak you out more. “It’s normal.”

And, eventually, after two towels are soaked, the blood flow slows to a stop.

“I think it’s stopped,” JJ mumbles.

You let him remove the towel. It feels risky to sniff. The smell and taste of blood is consuming and makes you feel nauseous. Tentatively, you try lifting your head. JJ and John B are staring at you. They’re nothing less than concerned.

“How do I look?” you croak.

JJ tries to fight it but fails. He sniggers, then John B does, and you find your own smile. Then the three of you are laughing like you’re drunk.

“That bad, huh?”

“Never looked hotter,” JJ lies through his laughter.

“Yeah…this isn’t your best look,” John B comments.

When the humour passes, you shake your head and look to John B. Like a storm at sea, his anger seems to have passed, not a sign that it was ever there on his face. JJ’s calmed down too. You know they’ll have to talk it out, the things John B said to him, but words said in fury are usually far from true. Cheap shots to try and hit JJ where it hurts. Brothers fight.

“I’m sorry we kept it a secret from you,” you say to John B.  

His eyes slip shut like your apology pains him. Like you’re applying balm to his fresh wounds. Sighing, he opens them to ask, “how long has it been happening?”

You and JJ share a look. He clears his throat before answering. “About a month. Maybe a bit longer.”

“It started the third week after I came to Kildare,” you clarify.

John B exhales with disbelief. “No. No, that can’t be true.” Before you try and explain further, he’s looking to JJ. “You can’t keep your mouth shut for a whole fucking month.”

JJ cracks up. A smile creeps onto your face too. “I think it’s a new record, man, honestly.”

“Yeah, congrats,” John B grunts, rolling his eyes.

“We just didn’t want to tell you cause we know things have been weird since your dad went missing, and you’ve sort of been hooked on this Royal Merchant thing,” you say to your brother.

“And cause you sort of told me to specifically not date your sister,” JJ meekly tags on.

John B sends him a damning look. JJ cringes. “I mean, I’ve never been good at doing as I’m told so this is kinda on you. Just partly.”

“Careful,” John B warns.

You grab for your brother’s hand. A stray stream of blood slips from your nose and JJ lifts the towel to wipe it away. John B meets your gaze.

“We’re not just fooling around,” you say. As his brows knit together, you spare a glance to JJ as if trying to muster up courage. “I love him.”

John’s mouth falls open. You might as well have just told him you’re pregnant. He looks to JJ as if needing some clarification, and he just nods and shrugs, his expression something close to yep, it’s true.

“I just wish you guys told me,” John B eventually tells you. Then, laughing, he adds, “and how long were you even planning on keeping this up?”

“Well...We hadn’t really got that far,” JJ fumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

You all share a laugh. John B nods and looks between the two of you. Like a pill he must swallow, he accepts his fate. You’re not proud, but you wouldn’t change a thing. Taking the risk with JJ was the best choice you ever made.

“I don’t love it,” John B says. Then, with a pained sigh, he adds, “but I’ll get used to it.”

You and JJ immediately lock eyes; smiles of relief and elation sparking to life.

“But you hurt her, and I’ll lay you out,” John B warns JJ, in a stereotypical brotherly fashion.

JJ nods. He seems to know now that John B will uphold that promise to the highest degree. “Scout’s honour,” he swears, crossing his heart and holding up three fingers.

John B looks to your once more and offers you a hand. He helps you off the floor.

“Jeez. What a birthday. You found out you get to stay in Kildare and have a nosebleed all in one day.”

“Wait, what?” JJ barks.

Your head darts around to the blonde-haired boy.

“You’re staying in Kildare?”

Realisation dawns upon you. In the pandemonium, you’d forgotten to tell him. A sheepish smile settles on your face. “Oh yeah, um…I have some news.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your bedroom door swings open as Kiara sings out, “morning lovebirds!”

JJ groans from beside you at the wake-up call. You crack open your eyes through the streaming sunlight and look to the doorway. John B’s head pops into view.

“Get up! We’re recovering a shipwreck!” he adds.

Kie grabs a sock from the floor and tosses it at your boyfriend.

“Get up,” she repeats.

The door slams shut and you chuckle, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling. JJ stirs from beside you. You feel his finger reach out to prod your cheek.

“Mornin’,” he rasps.

You look over to him, smiling sleepily. “Morning.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Like a Goddamn baby,” you grin.

He smiles at that. Sighing and groaning and making all kinds of fuss, JJ stretches in bed.

The two of you gradually emerge from your room. It’s hard to get dressed when your boyfriend keeps grabbing at your hips, sucking hickeys into your neck, stealing your bikini bottoms. There’s a persistent knocking at the door every five minutes from each of the Pogues, telling you to quit macking and get ready.

You wolf down breakfast at the dinner table, mulling over your latest painting. It’s of JJ’s back, arguably your favourite feature of him, when he used to sleep on the pull-out sofa. The room is bathed in moonbeams, bed made up of messy plaid blankets and mismatching pillows. The new paints make everything feel so lifelike and vivid. You’re debating adding faint pink lines to represent scratch marks on his back….

“Come on! We gotta go!” John B declares, drumming on your head as he passes you to the front door.

JJ finishes your Poptart as you text your mom a quick update for the day, and then the two of you join the Pogues in the Twinkie. He hooks an arm over your shoulder, holding you against him as you sit in the back with Pope. They fall into a debate about the scientific benefits of weed (JJ is, no surprise, in favour) whilst Kie and John B discuss tactics for finding the Royal Merchant. As you rest against your boyfriend, you smile and close your eyes. You finally found your home. You found it in Kildare.

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fic #jj fic #jj x reader fic #outer banks preference #obx preference #outer banks fic #jj maybank #jj #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #fem!reader #routledge!reader #jj x routledge!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #bestfriendsbrother!jj #bestfriendsbrother!jj x reader #bestfriendsbrother!jj x fem!reader #bestfriendsbrother!jj x routledge!reader

[jeansplaytoy]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥

part seven.

i’m back and better than ever (kind of).

no proof read yet , smut , sexual references , cursing , arguing , angst(?) , everything that’s always in my stories .

part six here | part eight here

unbearable. to sit in a car all night when all you wanted to do was have a good time? yeah, unbearable.

“this is so fuckin’ stupid.” you mumbled, crossing your arms and leaning on the door of the car. “and you’re childish. all you do is fight, but you want freedom.” he shook his head and scrolled on his phone.

“i’m sober.”

“and im sitting in the backseat.”

“you’re in the front.”

“and you’re not sober.”

you squinted at connie. you couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you stayed quiet. for like… 5 seconds. “can you take me home?” you asked. connie looked at you in the dark rear view mirror. “you sure? don’t be complaining when you get there either.” he mumbled, focusing back on his phone.

“i wanna go drinkkkk.” you whined, tapping the seat.

“no. you can’t control yo emotions when you drink.” connie shook his head. “and you not finna be in there gettin drunker than you already is.”

“okay i just wanna have a good time.” you rolled your eyes lazily. “you expect me to believe that shit?” he looked back at you. “you can watch me. i won’t do nothing. i promise.” you raised your eyebrows with a small smile.

connie’s lip twitched and he sighed. “we not gon be here for more than bout an hour. you better do whatever you wanna do, then we leaving. ight?”

you nodded with a smile while connie unlocked the door for you after he got out. you grabbed your heels and slipped them back on, nearly tipping over when you stood up. before you could roam off anywhere, he grabbed your hand, letting you lead him to where you were going.

“do we really have to hold hands?” you mumbled, walking beside him with a bored expression. “nah.” connie said, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulder.

you looked up at him before sighing inaudibly and walking back in the house. everyone looked at you, seems like there were more people there than the first time, but you didn’t care.

when connie looked to the side, he saw that same girl in the corner. seemed like she was still mad. “let’s go upstairs real quick.” he mumbled in your ear. you looked at him with a confused expression. “for what?”

“youn need to be getting in no more trouble down here.”

you stopped in your tracks and crossed your arms. “is that the real reason you wanna take me upstairs?” you squinted. your thoughts from earlier started to come back to you. he wasn’t just gonna fuck you whenever he wanted.

connie squinted. “yes. now come on.” he looked around, noticing the girl unknowingly getting closer to you two. before you could argue, he dragged you up the stairs, nearly tripping you on the way up.

“i don’t wanna go upstairs i wanna drink.” you held on to the side of the stairs. connie smacked his lips. “do you wanna getcho ass whooped y/n?” he looked back at you, opening the door to the same room you two first got… physical in.

“no, cus a bitch can’t beat me regardless-”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence. connie closed the door behind the both of you and locked it, standing against it.

“aw hell naw. you think i’m finna let you get in my panties again?” you frowned. “let me out.”

“no.”

“connie, i am so deadass i’m not bouda sit here and let you kiss me and touch me and do whatever the fuck we did whenever you feel like it, then ignore me for another one or two weeks.”

connie threw his head back against the door. “man… shut up.”

“shut up because i ain’t finna let you use me-“

“bruh what the fuck is you talkin bout?” you could hear the irritation in connie’s voice, and the sober corner of you told you to just shut up, but you were still drunk.

“what i just said. you’re not about to fuck me again and then leave-“

“y/n ion wanna fuck you.”

“yes you-“

“no—the fuck i don’t. i’m tryna keep yo ass outta trouble, cause you too fucking stupid to realize every time you go out you be in some bullshit-“ you opened your mouth to say something back. “nah, listen. you too stupid to realize you always in some shit, and if you get hurt you gon be complaining like you always is.”

now he was actually starting to get mad. you wouldn’t shut up.

“let me out.”

you tried to push past connie, but obviously he’s way stronger than you. “let me out!”

that’s when you felt him grab your arm and push you back on the bed. “that’s yo fucking problem, you don’t listen. you so fuckin childish, people tryna be here to have a good time and yo ole stupid ass and that bitch steady fighting. don’t nobody wanna hear that shit all the time.” he started raising his voice. “sit the fuck down. ion wanna fuck you, ion care shit bout that. you steady sittin here tryna argue, you don’t fuckin listen.”

you stared at him.

“ain’t no reason i gotta sit here and really treat yo ass like a big ass baby cause you can’t control yo liquor. i’m tired of that shit bruh.”

you didn’t even feel like talkin back, cause he wasn’t gon listen. you failed to realize that your face was starting to get wet because of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you sniffed and huffed.

connie backed up and stared down at you, bitting his top lip. you sniffed even more and hummed, wiping your tears, some of your mascara from your bottom lash coming off with it, along with your eyeliner.

you sat back on the bed and looked at connie again. you couldn’t really read his face, not only because of your teary eyes, but because of his blank expression.

until you blinked once more, you noticed he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. he was staring at the ceiling.

you swallowed and moved to the end of the bed to take off your heels. surprisingly, you continued to cry. you didn’t even know it. connie then looked down at you again.

you then stood up, now standing in front of him.

he sighed and wiped the stained marks from your cheeks and eyes. with one hand in his pocket, and the other on your face, he licked his lips.

out of all the shit you talked, and the things you said, you looked at his lips. you bit yours and trailed your hands up his shoulders and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in. he knew it was probably wrong to be intimate right after you said he was using you, but shit.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose in your neck.

you did the same. except when you did it, you couldn’t help but put your lips on his neck. not even a kiss. you just needed to feel it.

eventually, which wasn’t long, promise, you softly kissed connie’s neck. you moved your hands to the back of his head, ignoring the red lipstick stains you left on his neck, and started to kiss up his jaw.

you pulled back and moved back to the bed, holding his hand to lead him with you. he moved on top of you, making you automatically slightly open your legs to make space for him.

as you laid back, he saw a single tear drip down the corner of your eye. wiping it before it reached your ear, he kissed your cheek. under your eyes—both of them, and then kissed your lips.

he barely gave you time to kiss back as you closed your eyes and rubbed his back. he kissed down your face, neck, chest.

“you know ian wanna make you cry ma.” he said in between kisses.

you didn’t say nothing back, but you heard him. “you know i care about you.” he whispered, starting to give you hickeys on your neck and chest. “i just…” he kissed your lips again. “ion wanna get attached.” he sat up, pulling your legs closer to him.

he massaged your thighs and moved his hands up to your waist. then he moved from your waist to your chest, undoing your outfit down the middle before helping you get it halfway off. he leaned down to kiss your stomach, glancing up at you with every few kisses, just to see that look on your face.

“you just…” he moved back up to your face, spreading your legs further as you started to close them. “you be pissin me off sometimes.” he moved his right hand down to your panties, which were already almost soaked.

he rubbed his middle finger along your panties, making you arch your back, only a little. connie stared at you with bored eyes, but he definitely wasn’t bored. he then licked his lips, moving his hand up, then down in your panties.

“you love lace. ima remember that.” he said, moving his finger along your wet folds. you softly moaned, closing your eyes and biting your lip.

he moved his hand away from your pussy and licked his middle finger, making you open your eyes. the look on your face just drove him crazy. the way your brows furrowed when what you wanted to happen, didn’t happen. yet.

he put his thumb in front of your lips as you looked him in his eyes. “suck it.” he mumbled. you did as he said. what else could you do? “good girl.” he muttered, moving his hand back down inside your panties.

he put his thumb on your clit, softly pressing down on it, making you moan a little louder than you did at first.

he slowly started to rub your clit, sticking his middle finger inside of you at the same time. “ah, fuck…” you moaned softly as connie started to kiss you again. he was moving his fingers so slow, but it felt so good.

he slipped his tongue in your mouth as you kissed, slightly moving his hips against his own hand as he slowly fingered you.

your kisses started to get sloppier by the second. “you like that?” he whispered against your lips. you quickly nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck like before, moving your hips against his fingers.

that’s when he pulled his fingers out of you, unexpectedly sticking them in your mouth. as you tasted yourself, connie pulled your outfit off the rest of the way, undoing his pants with his other hand.

you didn’t even realize he was starting to slip his self into you, until he put the tip in. he moved his hand from your mouth to your neck, rubbing it with his thumb.

you slightly whimpered.

“it’s too big, pa. it won’t fit…” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“if wasn’t too big a few weeks ago.” he replied, stretching you out more and more by the second. you painfully moaned as connie’s thumb started to rub your cheek.

“you good… shit..” connie threw his head back for a second before moving closer to you. you grabbed his shirt to pull him closer to you. while he moved closer, he grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers, pinning them down to the bed as he started to move his hips.

“yeah..” you looked up at him. his eyes were closed at first. a few thrusts in, he looked at you. you could barely function because of the pleasure, it felt like it was all over your body. it’s been so long.

as he looked into your eyes, making noises he didn’t even know he was making, the same with you, you felt your eyes start to water again. you slowly started nodding. you didn’t know why. you just did.

connie leaned down to kiss you again, holding on to your hand tighter, thrusting at the same pace but harder. “fuck, connie..” you moaned softly. “i hate you so much…” you moaned again, making connie close his eyes and groan a little.

“i’m sorry.” he muttered, putting his face in your neck again. he could barely hold your hand. he tried to, but it felt like he was losing all his strength.

your eyes rolled to the back of you head and you moved your hips with connie’s. “you know ion be meaning to do you like that…” he said against your neck as he started kissing it again.

“uh huh..” you said softly. you didn’t know if you were replying to him or reacting to the feeling he was giving you. he moved his hand to your neck, slowly starting to thrust faster, making you moan louder by the second. “i like you for real…” he softly moaned against your ear.

“i…” you couldn’t get your words out clearly because of the grip he had on your neck. connie moved away from your ear and looked down at you, his grip on your neck didn’t change at all. you looked up at him with glossy eyes.

you held his wrist, feeling yourself come closer and closer to an orgasm. “i… like you too.” you mumbled enough for connie to hear. connie furrowed his eyebrows, nodding slowly before groaning softly.

you moaned one more time before finally feeling yourself finish with him, both of you out of breath as he let go of your neck.

connie leaned down to rest his head on your chest for a few seconds as you started to rub his back and head.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you.

there wasn’t anything else to say. seemed like it.

he got off of you and fixed his self, letting you put your jump suit back on. “you ready to go?” he mumbled, looking at his neck in the mirror as you put your heels back on.

you silently nodded.

#jeansplaytoy♡︎ #aot x reader #aot headcanons #connie springer #connie x reader #aot connie #aot x black reader #connie x black reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer x y/n #connie x reader smut #connie aot #connie x black y/n

[angel-therandomthing]

Full trailer breakdown for helluva boss season 2 (part 1)

1) at the start of the trailer we see a group of hooded figures that say “come out we have got you surrounded” probably, knowing blitzø, gotten into deep shit with a cult of some sort and blitzø probably owes them money

2) in the next frame we see the gang in there van with moxie and blitzø talking

Moxie: we’re are we going

Blitzø: anywhere but here, get ready for a life on the run gang

*blitzø crashes the van into a pole*

Moxie: I fucking hate you so much blitzø

First get the obvious stuff out of the way. They are on the run from what I think would be the cult from the start of the trailer indicating that they are most probably FUCKED. And judging from the fact that full moon (the next episode we are going to get) seems to be about stolas and blitzø relationships I will except that this episode will be apology tour (coming in June) and I also expect this because as you will see in a bit I am pretty sure that I got each episode correct for what parts are in it. But my favourite part of this is that moxie calls blitzø instead of sir and we don’t know why yet so it would make sense that Thai isn’t that first episode to be released but the second.

3) moxie talks about Business being at a peak and that it would be disastrous to lose what they worked for now. Which is making me think that blitzø is going to do something stupid sending back profit. Knowing that I recon that that is a scene from the last episode sinmas (coming out in December to go with the Christmas spirit)

4) in this part we see blitzø and moxie standing in front of a smashed car that looks to be there’s. We can also see different spray paint on the car that could indicate that they will get a new van (if them crashing the van at the start wasn’t a good indicator) we can also see blitzø in a ghostbusters looking back pack with a vibrator in hand( why I don’t know). Behind all that we can see witherd trees probably apart of a new ring. And giving that the rings are based off the seven deadly sins I would guess it is sloth or envy (giving that we have been to wrath, pride, greed and lust).

5) we can see fizz holding a giant blurred out thing (knowing him a sex toy) with blitzø win a bow tie in the corner. The background consists of what is Ozzie’s home , also we’re fizz lives. And giving blitzøs unusual attire I will guess that this is the sinmass.

6) this one is more of a small one. We can se stolas sitting on his bed looking all depressed. Now all I can take out of this is that this has something to do with the full moon episode (OUT NEXT MONTH. Going to do a break down and a couple of theory’s on that when it releases) BUT WHAT DID BLITZØ DO TO MY STOLAS!?

7) we can see moxie jumping over a bunch of rocks away from a explosion. From what I can see without any dialog to back me up here is this connected to a scene later on and that moxie is in the list ring. I recon it is most likely sinmas because as we saw earlier blitzø was with fizz in the lust ring.

8) I am not really going to count this since it’s just them jumping out of a portal using stolas book so this would be at that beginning of full moon before stolas gives blitzø the sucubass crystal( if you missed that watch season 2 episode 5 and the look my way music video)

9) now we see the stupid fucking cherubs come back. But this time they have been caught by the freaks from the D.O.R.K.S. Having a conversation

Unnamed male dork from season 1: so why would a bunch of angels be looking for demons

Cherub: we lay and wait for them to return to earth so we might smite them once and for all

Agent who: we would need someone with more experience

With this I’m guessing that the Dorks and cherubs are going to team up

10) we now see blitzø using a sucubass crystal to teleport to the mortal world (the one stolas got in look my way so this would be after full moon) giving the dorks finger guns and winking that them probably to tawnt them. But what is interesting is the background behind blitzø being all red which is going to then be in imp city but not in there office signaling that they could be in the run. From all this I recon this one and the next two and previous one are all from the same episode being, drum roll please 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁, master mind (airing in November which is sad because it is the most interesting looking one

Atlas I can only use 10 photos so I will post this now and work on part 2

#helluva boss #season 2 #stolitz #stolas #blitzø #helluva millie #moxie helluva boss #spoilers #i spent way too much time on this #i’m going insane #i want to kms #i am fucking crying #stolas is kinda hot. #fan theory

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).

I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.

Have a good chocolaty day ⁓

DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).

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Fourth part here:

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«Why the hell you've let her-»

«MacTavish»

Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.

«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»

«Then explain yourself, Cap.»

«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»

«She's no insubordinate»

«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»

«How come?»

«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»

«Laswell?? Ye serious?»

Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.

«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»

«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»

«The mission had to be done anyway»

«We could have waited for a better plan»  

He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.

«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»

«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»

«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»

Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.

One in particular.

You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.

You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.

«…I've thought…i could be helpful»

«You're a brave kid, but that was-»

«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known» 

You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»

«Then why?»

«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»

«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»

You nod.

«Then why a girl?»

You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.

Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.

A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.

Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.

Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.

«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.

And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are. 

He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:

«W-who required me?»

«I do»

Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible-  neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.

Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»

«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.    

Your eyes lower again.

«…causing trouble-»

«Just that?»

You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.

«Take off your shirt»

Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself. 

«…sir?»

Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.

«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.

Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket. 

Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.

«'K. If that's so…»

The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.

You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style. 

He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.

«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.

You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.

«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»

«Humans» he talks over immediately. 

You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women» 

«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»

«There was no other way to-»

«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.

«Are you proud?»

The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.

Then you nodd.

«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.

«Yes, I am»

You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.

It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.

«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»

«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»

«I've already told ya: you don't know me»

«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»

«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»

«I know me»   

«It seems not»

Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»

«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.

«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»

«It was just a nerve»

«Judicially irrelevant» 

«Shut your bloody mouth»

«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»

«Yes»

You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm. 

«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»

Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:

«I've just done my duty-»

«You threw away your life»

«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»

And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»

«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»

He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.

As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»

You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.

«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»

You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.

«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.

His conclusion wastes no time to come:

«You're a submissive»

It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.

«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»

You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.

And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand. 

The disappointment is palpable.

«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»

That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.

But you don't want him to be right.

«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.

His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»

«Mission was completed»

«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»

«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»

It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.

He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.

«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty» 

The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…

You bite him.

You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.

On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.

On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.

You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.

Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.

The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.

Price gets in without invitation.

«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»

Ghost doesn't lift his sight.

«I've talked with doc-»

«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»

Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»

«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»

«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»

«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»

«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»

«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»

«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»

Silence. 

Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted: 

«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»

Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:

«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»

Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»

«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»

«For fuck's sake Price-»

«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»

Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).

Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.

And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.

«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.

John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.

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#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #ghost x reader #ghost x you #johnny soap mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #writing dialogues is so funny #Price is basically becoming more and more the pscyhologist of the team #Task Force 141 is a close team of gossiper #don't know if ou've already noticed but i don't know shit about miitary life #it will be something more spicy sooner or later #for now just hints about sub/dom relationship

[sergle]

There's something about like. A certain genre of posts / Online Opinions about insecurity/depression/misery/complaints that are so unhelpful that they wrap right around to being straight up hilarious. and it's the ones that are more or less written to the tone of "Feeling bad? That's gross!" Like, just so you know, don't voice your insecurities/ have low self esteem, because that's offputting! You're gross and weird. Don't be insecure about that, though. That would be stupid if you felt insecure about people disliking you for being insecure. Not attractive. You should be thinking about being as attractive as possible. You shouldn't make comments about suicide, even if you're suicidal! Keep those thoughts entirely to yourself. Make sure nobody around you knows you're thinking about this. It would Make Them Uncomfortable. It's better to keep these thoughts in your head where they can fester. Don't post OR talk to friends with complaints about you feeling miserable or depressed. Tbh people who are sad/upset a lot? Kinda a red flag! You are probably miserable because you're a bad person and you've brought this on yourself. If you don't have friends, it's because you're awful to be around. Easy! Solved the problem for you. And no, there is no nuance to this, got it? So, make sure to feel bad about feeling bad, but don't feel bad about it, because, well, that's just gross. And annoying! You might've wanted your brain rotted thoughts to be Peer Reviewed, you might have just needed to vent- you might've been hoping for some comfort, to get things off your chest. Well, don't! Don't talk about thoughts or feelings that are negative with your friends, you'd be burdening them and that's only meant for THERAPY. #SponsoredbyBetterHelp #MentalHealth like, DAMN. that's so helpful. you're so good at helping. I um really liked the part where these are all hard and fast rules that encourage keeping feelings bottled up and keeping your friends at arm's length. That's really funny of you.

#I FEEL LIKE COMPLAINING RN in the context of this alternate universe these posts live in. that makes me evil rn. I may not even keep #the post up. but I Needed to complain about these bc I hate seeing them #really funny and good because it very much feeds into that part of the brain where you go wait am I stupid? am I horrible? am I annoying? #before you express any kind of personal feelings. from feeling insecure alll the way down the spectrum to feeling like your life is over #before anyone How Dare You Say We Piss On The Poor-s at me YES there is a nuanced version of this #which is. you can make someone feel like shit (A Fellow Sufferer Of The Mental Eelnesses) by using them as your dumping ground #in excess and usually with no regard for how they feel and without Regular conversations inbetween #and in a one-sided way where they can't do the same and complain with you as a sounding board in return #don't tell new friends you hardly know abt THE MOST personal shit you can possibly think of. there are steps being skipped here #right? we know this. we all know it. setting a boundary is a thing. overwhelming a person is a thing #on the other hand there is such a thing as a friend who IS okay to listen and wants to help. and friends who relate. #maybe talking abt personal stuff makes ppl feel closer sometimes. just a thought! maybe not everything is Emotional Labor. maybe just maybe #but like come on. these are almost intentionally unhelpful posts #long post

[gifti3]

Arranged marriage au with asmo

I need asmo to be in some type of royal otome slowburn manhwa

ramblings ramblings

the drama guys....the DRAMA! dont tell me a bunch of nonsense wouldnt happen

remember the post where i was like indifferent/passive aggressive asmo becoming curious about the MC fics are peak

similar thing is happening here! honestly i think theres some resentment coming from asmos side at first but mc is like ay....you do ur thing and i do mine

im not gonna make u do anything u dont want, i dont have any expectations from this arrangement. lets just try not to make each of our lives hell u know

lol i bet when asmo first meets MC after finding out that hes supposed to marry them he's like thinking "......ig theyre not that bad looking"😒 (he literally would have been flirting with them in any other circumstance)

hmmm mc needs to be apart of a pretty influential family i think since this is gonna be a political type marriage

and asmo,,,,i feel like he doesnt really engage in the specifics when it comes to politics or anything. it's just not something thats important to him. he has his side hobbies and business endeavors that cares about. But topics outside of those things are left up to his family

so perhaps one day, the head of the family (i wanna say lucifer but since i want the person in this role to give off more a mysterious vibe, where his word is final michael might be a better choice) is like... this specific family...theyre kinda important and we want them on our side so get married to their eldest who has rejected every other person ever but has agreed to marry and since u dont do much when it comes to political affairs im gonna have you do this whether you want to or not

and asmo is just like....HUH he tries to get lucifer to help him out here but lucifers like...yea dads not budging sorry lil bro (he doesnt say it like that but similar sentiment lmao)

now mc never really wanted to get married cause they didnt wanna have to go through the motions against their will and they like their life as is but their parents have been breathing down their neck about marriage for years now. And now that this BIG opportunity has present itself to their parents, it feels like the pressure is really on now! at first mc is like shit...idk if i can weasel my way outta this one

and then......they realized that maybe this could probably work out in their favor actually.....

mc agreed to married him cause asmo has a bit of a reputation as a partier and a playboy

with asmo they feel like things can stay as they are for the most part if they let him continue to do as he pleases (not like they could have stopped him if they wanted to lol)

everything can be the same, they can still live their own separate lives, just now they have the title of spouses!

and thats the plan, like i said before asmo comes in being a bit rude at first but it kinda changes to indifference and a little passive aggressiveness once MC is like...yo chill im not gonna shit on ur parade. i just wanna be left to my own things. you do you sir

yes thats the plan...thats supposed to be the plan and it was going as mc expected for a good while

but as we know if u put something or someone in front of asmo enough times hes gonna get curious

#im an AU girlie til the end #thats all ill ever be #this isnt even the drama part #i wanna say like several things happen #cause its not clear in my head #i just know theres potential for stupid shit happening cause asmo is doing the same shit he was doing before he got married #like sure its not a love type of marriage but it definitely doesnt look great #mcs parents probably arent gonna be thrilled when rumors start spreading #and then theres also the fact that #if these rumors are spreading then some ppl will be like #so....i can be mcs sidepiece possibly??? #omg sidepieces getting jealous and trying to start shit is on the table #dont even get me started on when asmo starts caring about MC #hes like at the “club” #and hes like....hmmm this isnt as fun as i was expecting it to be #he doesnt even know why #probably heads over to MCs #and mc is like...wth im trying to go to bed why r u here???? #i think they should live separately #i think its an option but im not sure #maybe they stay in the same home idkkk #anyways yea!!! #thats all i got rn #and maybe forever #i usually get a burst of ideas like this type it out and then forget about them lol #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me asmodeus x reader #prime reader insert material right here #if i was at my peak of writing this would have been asmo's datura i think

[fatcowboys]

im done w moving and out of the shitty apt w the shittier roommate (who did not let move out happen without adding as Much drama as possible) and have just. been feeling so much better. living w my two friends who actually communicate well and all work together on our needs and gah. so less stressed and anxious now!!! and also in a week kitty introductions have gotten farther than they ever did w shitty roommates kitties (they were kinda bullies, so we had to move glacial speed even w oregano cat expert) and just. thank u the universe things are so much better now

#only improvement would be if anjo Also lived here curse grad school!!!!!! #i moved out over a week ago but we just tuened in keys after cleaning day on sunday #and across just those two days bad roommate accused me of faking cleaning a part of something (that was not requested or clear) #tried to turn anjo against me by saying im a liar and manipulator and gaslighter (which. listen the last one i could say the fuckin same) #(which is also so funny bc anjo and i are so close. became codependent in a heart beat. why tf would u think anjo is gonna be on ur side) #then at the walkthru pointed out things that were damaged (which they are Alsonin on that security deposit what are u doing) #and the texted again accusing me of shit with a stupid fucking infographic on weaponized incompetance #thankfully like all of these i had my friends with me bc when infirst got there for cleaning i uhhhh had a panic attack lol #so i had good support thru everything and now never have to deal w them #its just. been So much lmao. and its so fucking nice how calm and smooth things have been #like i had that sort of shit. i in general am good at communicating and avoid shitty drama like this person #so its been So exhausting. but im done now thank god #and the new place is so much better and nicer and i love the friends im living w and Yeah :')

[twinstxrs]

boo *exu calamity au’s your bad kids*

#riz cerrit gorgug laerryn ​kristen zerxus fig loquatius adaine patia & fabian nydas btw. if anyone cares #(nightmare king era cass as asmodeus… obviously w/ fig instead but ayda evandrin… ANYWAYSSS) #i can’t remember her name but that One Bitch patia & laerryn hated is kipperlily copperkettle… patia as adaine for that let’s go haters! #need to do a rewatch honestly just to Remember shit also to maybe fully flesh this out #like i have a lot of thoughts here that i could expand upon rn but i’ve forgotten SO many parts of calamity atp bc i’m not into cr &- #have only watched it fully the one time & just generally rewatched certain parts idk how many times #me trying to explain how nydas’s perspective shift with the prophecy is sooo fabian but i can’t remember literally anything: so uh… because- #fantasy high #the bad kids #listen these tags might not be saying much of anything but when i say fig gorgug ayda loquatius laerryn evandrin TRUST ME ok… it’s sooo #same w/ zerxus asmodeus kristen nk!cassandra #also thing i think is funny: purvan or whoever is tracker & trackerbees are still exes and there’s just CRAZYYYY gay tension in every scene #wait i’m sorry even more stupid idea: yk how nydas has the hodmedods? fabian has those rats that show hole. there’s truly an army of them

[sailor-aviator]

.

#y'all my anxiety has me spiraling as of late because it just feels like my whole life is falling apart at this point #i got fired from my job a couple of months ago and i've been scrambling to try and find a new one #i work part time at a store i really love but it pays shit #and i've had all of these interviews and no one wants to hire me and i just feel unhireable at this point and it's hard not to despair #and on top of that i'm struggling with my self esteem again #i know i'm not ugly per se but i'm struggling with feeling confident in the way i look as a big girl #and all of my old insecurities are rearing their ugly heads and i want to cry just thinking about it #and i feel like such a failure right now even though i know that life has its ups and downs but my stupid brain just won't chill #and i don't really have any friends in the area because they all either moved away or didn't live here to begin with #and i'm tired of living at home because of my stupid student loans and not being able to afford to live on my own #i have one person i hang out with and we just met and i don't want to scare them off because they're a great friend and person #and i just feel like i'm never going to meet anybody who's going to love me the way i want to be loved because of my looks #also because it's me. and i feel like i'm so flawed as a person that no one will ever fall in love with me #and i've just been feeling really alone lately and i'm trying to do things to make me feel better but it's just so HARD right now #and i love writing because it gives me a chance to explore some of my feelings and it's something i genuinely love to do #and i'm sitting here waiting for the day things start to get better. and i know we all joke and i'm gonna sounds so dumb for saying this #but i feel like i was meant to be famous? or do something great idk and it's something everyone has always told me #and idk if my feelings of inadequacy are because of that or what but i'm scared that my life is going to mean nothing in the end #anyway this was a lot and you can pretend like you didn't read it. i just wanted to write some of my feelings down

[katnissgirlsmakedo]

i don’t mean this to sound homophobic or whatever but some queer people literally cannot conceptualize that they actively look down on things they consider “basic” or “straight” with an insane level of contempt no matter how much they say they support everyone and everything. like. if i tell you i love riverdale because it’s campy and fun and you give me that look of disgust because you perceive riverdale as some basic lame straight people show. that’s not very like. nice. and then you refuse to hear me out in my show’s defense… and you just wave me off with a “whatever like whatever you like” but you’re still looking at me like i’ve just ordered a pumpkin spice latte while wearing ugg boots and listening to taylor swift. like at a certain point when will you admit you’re not actually very nice about people’s interests that don’t align with yours.

#i just brought up wonka to my friend and she immediately went into how much she doesn’t like timothee chalamet and she would never see this #stupid movie because she thinks he’s so annoying and da da da. #and i was like. well actually i love timothee chalamet i think he’s funny and i’d love to see him in a bad musical… #and i brought this up. because i was GOING to lead into asking her to see it with me so we could laugh at all the stupid parts together #and i didn’t even get there because she was frankly just such a hater #this is the real life friend who just followed me on letterboxd btw #i’m considering blocking her honestly because like. i do not vibe with the way she uses that website and i do not think it needs to be a #social media thing for us. it’s a little insane actually that she would actively want to follow me on there and then her own profile is so. #like it’s mean to say her profile sucks but she doesn’t have a picture or favorites and she doesn’t leave reviews and like. what am i #following you for!!!! why do you use this website!!!! #and i literally said to her girl your profile is a bit lame at least add a picture #and she got so mad at me for this as if i’d just suggested killing her boyfriend #which frankly i do want to do but that’s neither here nor there #like what do you think is going to happen to you if you pick four movies to represent your taste on the movie website. #if you put a little jpeg of a character you enjoy as your pfp. if you maybe express an opinion on something you saw #what fo you think will happen to you if you do those things. #and why. if you’re not going to do those things. did you need to follow ME. who does!!! #and get all up in MY movies and MY opinions and MY head while giving me nothing back…. #like. i say some shit on there ok why does she get to read that but all i get is. ‘watched some czech film from 1965 on december 14th’ #like hello. hi. hello.

[puzzlekinq]

cant sleep because im seething with anger

#been laying here for like 40 minutes fantasizing about finally snapping and telling my mom everything i really think and feel #if i ever came out to her she would end up cutting me off like she did to my aunts and uncles and cousins #basically im alone and my parents and siblings are the only family i can be in contact with right now and its isolating #off topic but yeah #i miss having a big family and people besides my parents that i could rely on. people i felt like i could actually breathe around #idk. whatever #why do i feel responsible for her actions all the time. its been my job to keep her stable and listen to her vent for years #but i never say anything about my own feelings. because she would make me feel stupid and ridicule me. lol #all she does is make me feel like shit most of the time. shes always in a bad mood and shes always whining and always pessimistic #and yeah i get along with her for the most part but lately her attitude has been weighing on me a lot. i cant criticize or disagree with her #because she'll just get mad. shes always been an angry person. thats why i hardly spoke to her from ages 10-15 #maybe i jsut wanted to give her another chance. maybe i felt sympathy for her. shes had it rough her whole life #but when shes still bitter no matter how many times i comfort her and let her vent and cry to me and when she chooses her husband over me #every single time he fucks up (which is like. constantly) and always takes his side when they inevitably make up after a huge fight #it feels like i'll never be able to make her happy. it feels like i should stop trying. if she wants to be full of hatred #and have a shitty husband then fine. i cant fix her like and i cant hold the weight of her mistakes #*life

[magioffire]

am i the only one who gets slightly irritated (read: irrationally irritated) when americans are discussing american issues amongst themselves and some european has to come in like “WELL ACKULLY all you dumb americans are wrong and stupid and also fat cant forget to mention that and LET ME TELL YOU why your experience is Wrong” like please...shut up....please god...

#just like its annoying when americans think everything is about them its ALSO annoying when europeans think their experience is superior #like whenever we are discussing the problem of heat related death in america and how AC/central air should be a human right #theres always someone who has to be like #'ACKTUALLY youre stupid and fat and selfish if you use AC typical americans just open your windows to keep cool!!' #meanwhile they live somewhere temperate and cool and have never dealt with the extreme temps that can be common in many parts of america #please if youre european and you think you got something smart to say about how americans live you most likely dont know the half of it #and try talking to us instead of just being like lol typical dumb americans!! doing dumb things!! #and why do they always gotta bring up weight too when they are losing a debate with an american #every single time its always the 'well...YOURE A FAT AMERICAN!!" when we actually bring up good points #i guess clownery knows no borders or nationality #anyway i woke up and made the mistake of reading the comments in an article discussing AC as a right in oregon #after 100 people died from heat related death #theres always someone who has to be a purposely obtuse little SHIT #rant cw #and dont even get me started on how some europeans are very purposely obtuse when discussing racial issues in america #dont EVEN get me started #also theres the fact that with climate change related heat waves becoming more common EVERYWHERE #youd think it would be more like yeah we've been having heat problems here in europe too this is how we cope with it #instead of ...whatever THIS SHIT IS #(also a lot of our buildings esp lower income cheap buildings arent made to withstand super extreme temps for long periods of time) #(because they were either A. built in a MUCH cooler time B. built with a 'fuck it we gotta flip houses' mindset in mind so they are Cheap) #(or the heat reducing measures in old buildings were enough 150 years ago but they arent enough now)

[possiblytracker]

valentines day became a lot more fun and less agonising to me as an ace-aro person after it finally clicked over the past few years that whatever the fuck happens today is what i make of it, and that can and does include loving and appreciating the shit out of the friends ive decided i'd like to spend my life with in a way that i can define on my own terms not limited to the generic concept of romance. which i absolutely revel in doing, personally

#first and last post im gonna make about it BUT #kinda wild as a kid who got picked on on vday and got Insanely bitter abt the whole holiday for most of my teenage years #and coped by being 'totally fine with' the idea of living and dying alone bc who could Possibly want to get that close on my terms #that im here now and actually vibing with it #and like. if you hate vday personally i am giving you a pat on the back in solidarity. me too still for the most part #i am not going to be annoying about it for your sakes i respect you so much. best of luck avoiding Designated Love Day #but i am personally reclaiming this shit as a semi-recently discovered Bitch Who Yearns. #what a nice day to consider love in all its incredible forms! how great to remember i love and am loved in return #despite the years and years of thinking it just wasnt something that even loosely applied to me #funny how that works out sometimes. that im still learning things about myself #(some of this is slightly exaggerated ofc i have and have had friends who mean a Lot to me throughout! when i say 'alone' i dont mean Alone #(but it is still only recently ive started to unpack the 'i dont Need to bond that closely with people im Fine to live on my own' kinda #shit that i internalised for a stupid long time as a teenager #maybe i Do want to spend my life with other people in my own queerplatonic way and not only are there people who want that with me #but also make me want it with Them. and thats more than i could ever have imagined as a teenager) #ok tags ramble over im done getting sentimental khgCSDJ

[hecksupremechips]

I’m about to sound like the worlds biggest idiot but I need to say it anyways. It absolutely baffles me that the majority of the persona fanbase only cares about the "waifus" and not like the actual plot or characters

#persona #saying this aloud is so stupid its like the persona fanbase is a bunch of douchey straight guys of course thats what they care about #its like going to a bbq and then being appalled that people are eating meat #YET HERE I AM #i mean eh i dont think this is like a big tumblr problem since all the gay fans are here but elsewhere #like they act like the only point of the games is getting a gf #and no one judges the female characters based on anything but how big of a ‘waifu’ they are #like the romance part of the game has so much emphasis and its not even good im sorry #you get like 5 maximum moments with a female character where her entire personality is reduced to BLUSH #and thats it #though i guess thats all you need when youre a piece of shit persona fan #still its just weird to me like bitch if you wanna romance people just play a fucking dating sim itll be better #like if i say i like ann for example some dumbass will be like ‘SHES NOT EVEN A GOOD WAIFU YOU HAVE BAD TASTE’ #bitch you know you can like. enjoy a female character without wanting to fuck her right #what did i expect though 😞 #its absurd behavior regardless

[pepprs]

cosmo wanda i fucking wish students understood that universities have limited reach and that public silence does not automatically mean no action is being taken internally and that the decisions of collectives / institutions do not reflect the decisions of all of the people within them (e.g. all faculty staff and administrators within an institution) etc etc. god DAMN it to hell. you people (not anyone reading this im saying this as if im talking to the student body at my school) look so fucking stupid @ing the social media accounts of distinct departments like that’s actually going to do anything. you think they ARENT doing anyrhing????? that’s probably ALL they’re focusing on rn and they’re spending days carefully gathering information so they can share it. and shit is hitting the fan in MULTIPLE areas rn if you haven’t noticed and also it’s winter fucking break so no one is even supposed to be working anyway. so what is wrong with you. why are you fucking making demands. getting a college to finally post an update about something is not the same as cancelling someone on twitter and the fact that so many of you think it is is indicative of how SICK our society has become. PLEASE calm down.

#purrs #literally about to start screaming. people have been so fucking stupid this year. that is all i am going to say. #and ik this bears a weight being a staff member here now but i was a student 6 months ago and years ago i used to do the same stupid shit an #and then i went to the retreat and learned that universities are communities made of people and that i can change the world by talking to #stakeholders and being strategic and patient and having civic courage and building relationships. and now i spend my life trying to teach #other ppl how to do that. so seeing students WHO I KNOW ARE AWARE THAT THIS ISNT THE WAY doing this makes me want to start SCREAMING. like #it was all for nothing. the HOURS of workshops you went through learning how to actually make change and ‘demand’ change and now you’re #engaging in this edgy bullshit. i want to curl up in a ball and/or jump out the window rn. sorry #delete later #work tag 2 #this is literally the 5th or 6th incident in 2022 and i know it’s more complicated than that and yes there are genuine wrongdoings the #school / depts and individuals within it have committed. but also the knee jerk reaction of students to instantly turn into a mob and start #saying u*** does nothing u*** doesn’t care about it’s students is like are you KIDDING MEEEEEEEEE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. how about you talk to #x person who i know firsthand is trying to navigate this issue and suppprt students. how about you join x committee that just made progress #in this area. how about you get offline and go touch grass and realize your COMMUNITY isn’t out to get you!!!! #institutions are not inherently bad lol. institutions are communities. communities are POWER. if i could send one message to everyone on the #planet i think it would be that or at least include that bc i would also want to say stuff abt how we are real and human and alive together #etc etc. but that is like. something so many ppl do not see. being part of a university is POWER. being a student is POWER. so use it for #good!!!!! join committees! set up meetings with admin!!!!! join student gov!! this learned helplessness of @ing the school is NOT THE WAY #not when you have tools and relationships at your disposal to actually make a sustainable long term difference. what are you waiting for! th #the whole world is yours!! it’s at your fingertips! do you feel it? do you see it?