#seriously what the actual fuck anna

[macfrog]

ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten

hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.

However.

If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.

Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.

You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.

Can’t have it all, I guess.

Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.

You: Merry Christmas!!!

You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.

You: As in, today’s the day

You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas

You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day

You: Never mind

“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”

You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”

The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.

“Ain’t your dress yellow?”

Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”

“Pink does say rodeo.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”

“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”

Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”

Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”

“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”

“Tell your dad I say hey!”

You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.

“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”

As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.

Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.

“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.

“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”

He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.

Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.

Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.

“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”

You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.

“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.

You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”

“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”

Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.

The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.

“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.

“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.

“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”

“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”

Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”

“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.

“Is he, now?”

“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”

You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.

“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”

Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.

“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.

----------

Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.

“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”

You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.

Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.

Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.

Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.

You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –

You: Good luck??

He replies almost instantly.

Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?

Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.

Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.

You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?

And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?

Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.

“Another?”

They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.

You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.

“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”

You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.

“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.

“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”

“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.

As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.

“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.

“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.

He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.

“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.

“He smells like he’s having a good night.”

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.

“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”

“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.

“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”

Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”

“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”

“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”

“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”

“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”

Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”

Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.

You: What you doing?

Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?

You: What ya watvhin ?

Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.

You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.

You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please

Bored, horny. It all means the same.

Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.

“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.

Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.

Joel: Outside. No rush.

That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.

“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”

“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”

You nod. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”

She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.

“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.

You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”

“Can he take me home, too?”

Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”

She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.

“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”

Anna pouts. “One more drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.

“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.

“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.

“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”

“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”

“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”

You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.

Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –

“Who’s that kid?”

“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”

“He give you trouble?”

“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”

Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.

“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”

When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.

His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.

“Want you to take me home.”

“’s go, pretty girl.”

----------

Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.

“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.

He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”

He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”

“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”

“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”

Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.

“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.

Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…

“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”

Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.

“That’s Meredith! When she–”

“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”

“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”

“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”

“We can watch it from the beginning.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.

Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”

“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.

“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.

“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.

You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.

You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.

“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.

His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.

He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.

You giggle.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”

“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”

“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.

“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”

“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.

He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.

“The cutest.”

“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”

He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.

You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.

And something inside you ticks.

“Joel?”

He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.

“Mhm?”

You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.

He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.

His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.

“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.

You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.

But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?

Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?

“I…was just wondering…”

“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.

You grow more desperate.

“…wondering what your body count is?”

You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.

“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.

“I wanna know.”

He ignores you.

“Joel,” you moan.

He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”

In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.

“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.

You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.

“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.

He’s hard.

Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.

“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.

“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”

“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”

His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”

“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”

“Funny.” He closes his eyes.

“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”

You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.

“I wanna ride you, daddy.”

This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”

You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.

You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.

Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.

Well, you’ll be screaming either way.

You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.

“Go on,” he whispers.

Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.

“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.

You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.

Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.

“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”

You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”

“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”

“So just pull out?”

“Nope.”

You sigh, frustrated.

Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.

So, you do.

You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.

“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.

He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.

His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”

You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.

You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.

Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.

He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.

Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.

So, you decide to draw them from him.

You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”

“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”

“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”

You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.

You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.

Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.

“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”

“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”

“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”

Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.

Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.

“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”

That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.

When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.

But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.

“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”

“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”

You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.

You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.

“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”

When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.

Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.

But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.

His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.

“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.

You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.

The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.

“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.

When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.

You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.

Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.

You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.

“Fuck, darlin’.”

You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”

“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.

You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.

Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.

You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.

You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.

“Feel nice?” he whispers.

You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.

He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.

You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.

“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.

You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”

Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.

“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.

“Hm.”

“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.

Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”

“Oh really? What am I, then?”

“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”

You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.

You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.

His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.

“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.

You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”

“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”

Oh.

He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.

He’s telling you because you matter to him.

You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt @huffle-punk @unbotheredbeeeee @iluvurfather @wildcat116 @godisawomansblog @55vvaa55 @koshkaj-blog @initforthebooks @theywhowriteandknowthings @thatgirljayy@sasakipsposts @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @aim-formyheart @taeslarityy @lxstbxyscave23 @joelmillerxapologist @capt-rex @giixo @capricorngf @feministfanboi @fifia-writes @darleneslane @theplumsoldier @sharp-cheekbones-locked @suzmagine @endlessthxxghts @ivebeenflagged @blognametakenn @jessahmewren @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @ranahx @pedropascalsbbg @cartoon-garbage04 @caatheeriinee07 @kngslayr @hopplessilse @vickywallace @gracieispunk @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller pedro pascal #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #cowboy like me

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

Literally all of The Shadowhunter Chronicle romances are completely unhinged it’s not even funny (I lied, it’s very funny). Here’s just some examples:

William “Will” Herondale/James “Jem” Carstairs + Theresa “Tessa” Gray: It totally would have been a vee type polyamorous situation if it wasn’t for all the death and 1800s London society going on.

Henry Branwell + Charlotte Fairchild: How dare this misogynistic society put us together, I mean, we wanted to get together anyway, but not for those reasons. Welp, time to be as unconventional as possible.

Gabriel Lightwood + Cecily Herondale: Look, you made fun of my sister, it’s only fair that I marry your sister; that’s the rules.

Gideon Lightwood + Sophia “Sophie” Collins: Dad, I have a perfectly valid reason to betray you and go to the other side. What your doing is wrong and – nO tHiS haS nOThiNG to do wiTh tHeIR mAid wHy wOUlD yoU eVEn sAy tHat?

Jesse Blackthorn + Lucie Herondale: Your request to not be brought back to life has been denied, deal with it.

James “Jamie” Herondale + Cordelia Carstairs: He didn’t commit arson we were just having sex – why are you all looking at me like that’s worse?

Anna Lightwood + Ariadne Bridgestock: Listen, there’s a lot of society going on right now, so we’re going to have to get together in secret. Oh, you don’t want to? Okay, never mind, fuck society, let me win you back real quick.

Christopher Lightwood + Grace Cartwright: Oh good, you broke into my house, now we can talk about science.

Thomas Lightwood + Alastair Carstairs: I’d really like to hate you, but I think the biggest problem with that is that I love you. Once I get over that hurdle, I think we’ll be in the clear.

Lucian “Luke” Graymark + Jocelyn Fairchild: Good job on us for breaking away from the genocidal cult run by our best friend/husband; we should hook up, you know, as a reward.

Jonathan “Jace” Herondale + Clarissa “Clary” Fairchild: Ayo the same guy conducted experiments on our blood, that’s crazy; btw so glad we’re not actually siblings.

Alexander “Alec” Lightwood + Magnus Bane: Marrying each other is against the law? Okay, fine, I’m a law biding citizen. Oh oops, I made it legal. I am the law now, and I want a wedding on the beach.

Simon Lovelace + Isabelle Lightwood: It makes sense to have our engagement party on the day of my brother’s death, that’s when we really started bonding.

Helen “Alessa” Blackthorn + Aline Penhallow: Well, I guess we’re going to go in exile together. Yes, I said together; your exile is my exile, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, that’s how relationships work.

Julian Blackthorn + Emma Carstairs: Yes, it’s a technical war crime to love each other, but the law itself is not really our main concern about it.

Kieran Hunter + Mark “Miach” Blackthorn + Cristina Rosales: We’re really living that cottage core aesthetic, and all we had to do to get here was do a small war and some amnesia. Worth it.

Gwyn ap Nudd + Diana Wrayburn: I’m going to stand by just in case something happens, but it probably won’t, she knows what she’s doing – WHY IS SHE JUMPING OUT THE TENTH STORY WINDOW OH MY GOD WAIT

Tiberius “Ty” Blackthorn + Christopher “Kit” Herondale: We take cosplaying Sherlock and Watson VERY seriously, so of course we needed to go to all the most illegal places, it’s only natural.

Ash Morgenstern + Drusilla “Dru” Blackthorn: So anyway I saw them in a sort of fever dream like state this one time and they’ve still been on my mind for years.

#the shadowhunter chronicles #the infernal devices #the last hours #the mortal instruments #the dark artifices #malec #sizzy #clace #kitty #blackhallow #wessa #jessa #herongraystairs #kieraktina #gracetopher #chenry #thomstair #blackstairs #lukelyn #heline #ashilla #gabrily #sophideon #arianna #herondaisy #gwynburn

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 7 all chapters

I knew the pleasure of vexing and soothing him by turns; it was one I chiefly delighted in.

–Jane on Mr. Rochester, Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

-It's no real mystery, why you dig out your beloved old copy of Jane Eyre. From the early 1900s, it had seen better days when you’d scored it in the local used book store, many years ago. You’d been a teenager then—and those days were long behind you. It seems you never outgrew your liking of a dark and broody anti-hero.

It’s safer to read about it though, than pursue the real thing.

Lately every time Mr. Wick comes into the shop you feel slightly agitated, as though you don’t quite fit into your own skin. You remember the sensation of his fingertips on yours, like a burn.

Mr. Wick sees you reading your tattered novel on your break, but doesn’t comment. You’ve seen him with old classics in hand and reckon he must be something of an aficionado.  

You put it away in your shoulder bag in the back after the break.

The next day, it’s gone.

You know you left it in your bag. Where the fuck could it have gone? Why would someone fucking steal it?

A couple of weeks later, it reappears on the counter by the register you favor.

You hardly recognize it at first, for it has received an encompassing makeover. It has new leather covers with gorgeous embossed gold lettering, and marbled end papers, and the tattered thread of the binding repaired. There are gilded arabesques on the spine and delicately drawn climbing flowers on the cover. You wouldn’t have even thought it the same book, if not for the intricately printed title page unique to your edition, with an old pencil mark in the corner you recognize.

Such a restoration would have cost a fortune.

You knew, because you’d looked into it.  

Further compounding the mystery, there is a beautiful jacquard embroidered ribbon bookmark inside. It’s on the page where Rochester has sat Jane down in the arbor, and is telling her that she has rejuvenated him from his unhappy existence without actually admitting anything, asking in the most roundabout way possible if it would be so very bad to take a second wife who would make him a new man, while his first is still living, the big idiot.

“Is the wandering and sinful, but now re-seeking and repentant, man justified in daring the world’s opinion, in order to attach to him for ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby securing his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?”

Jane tells him, of course, that a man shouldn’t base his redemption on another person, but within himself. You are not sure you would have had the strength to speak so frankly to a man you secretly loved.

Well, maybe you would.

You are utterly mystified by the whole thing, to say the least.

But later, you are browsing the local book store, and the owner is reading Anna Karenina in what looks like freshly bound leather. The style looks familiar.

“Did you have that restored?” you ask, feeling like Nancy Drew hot on the trail of a fresh lead.

“Yeah, that new guy in town, John Wick did it for me. He says he’s just a hobbyist, but he does amazing work. Usually you have to send off to Florence for quality like this, seriously. It’s a dying art.”

Darren lets you look at the book, and you are impressed by the craftsmanship.

The spine decoration matches yours. There is a plate in the back that proclaims: Bound by John Wick.

The sneak.

You are touched to the tips of your toes, your heart filled with butterflies. Was the bookmark purposely left on that page, or just a random placement?

You hardly dare hope, and tell yourself it’s an invention of your own fancy. The gift of the book is magnificent enough. No need to further muddle things with secret communications that aren’t really there.

The next day you approach Mr. Wick’s table with hands on your hips, affecting annoyance. “You stole my book.”

He actually has the grace to look sheepish about it, casting those lovely dark eyes downwards.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks. I really love it.” It’s the understatement of the century.

He looks up through his hair, the surprised sparkle in his eyes taking your breath away. Suddenly, he looks ten years younger.  

“Yeah?”

The corners of your mouth twitch. This man speaks like he’s paying five cents per word, you swear. “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me you bind books?”

He just shrugs, and you cannot help but laugh.

“I’ve never owned anything so fine. Thank you, truly.”

 He nods again, and you sense that you’re maybe making him uncomfortable with your gratitude. You suspect it’s not why he did it at all.

“Will you show me sometime? How you do it?”

There is a flash of something dark in his eyes before he turns his attention back down to his own book. It feels like dismissal, but you have no idea what he’s hiding underneath it all.

Still waters run deep.

“Anytime you want,” he offers as you turn to go.  

You smile at him over your shoulder as you go back to your station, a secret lightness fluttering in your heart. On your break you flip through your refurbished book once more, taking even more pleasure in it knowing that John poured over every detail of it. You don’t know much about bookbinding or leather work, but you suspect he freehanded the little flowers on the front, and that moves you to your toes.

You flip to one of your favorite scenes because you find it so funny, when Jane puts out the fire that nearly burned Rochester up in his sleep, because undoubtedly he’d drank too much earlier to easily rouse, the lovesick scoundrel. Afterwards he doesn’t want her to leave but can’t outright keep her in his room without behaving an absolute blackguard.

“Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.”

You cannot help but glance up at your tall dark bookworm in the corner, an aching warmth spreading in your heart for the sight of his furrowed brow, his concentration (you think) focused on the tome in his hands.

You know you are a ridiculous thing.

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere! john wick #yandere john wick x you #i nerded out so hard on this chapter im soorrryyyyy!!! #jane eyre

[justmystyles]

request for some angst where y/n & harry have a disagreement over something small but it turns into something big because of their tempers and there’s silent treatment and angst and jealousy but there’s a good resolution where they come back together at the end even if it’s hard they love each other and they won’t let this be something that breaks them

Misplaced Emotions

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

summary: as Harry prepares to jump back into the spotlight, he has a hard time re-adjusting to public life, and it manifests in the wrong way.

a/n: this was such a great ask, thank you so much for sending it to me! i don't get super angsty often (life has enough angst, let's have fun here), but i really got into this, and i hope i gave you what you were looking for! 🖤

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Babe, the car’s here!” You call from down the hallway as you signal to the driver that it will just be a minute. 

Harry comes out of the bedroom, a duffle bag on one shoulder and a suitcase in the other hand. “I’m going to miss you so much, angel.” He drops his bags and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. 

“I know, but I’ll fly out to see you in a couple of weeks.” You assure him. Besides, you’ll be so busy that you won’t even notice I’m not around.” 

“I always notice,” he murmurs against your skin. 

You give him a quick squeeze before pulling out of his embrace. “Do you have everything?” 

“I think so,” he looks over to his bags, as if he can see through them and catalog their contents. “Oh actually, do you have that one Pleasing jumper I lent you last time? I was hoping to bring it with me.” 

You look down at your feet, backtracking in your mind to where it may be. “Not here,” you confess apologetically. “It’s at my office.” 

“Seriously, Y/N?” Harry groans. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice lowers, surprised by his harsh tone. “I didn’t know you were going to need it back right this second.” 

“But I’m here, it’s mine. Wouldn’t it make sense that it should be here at the same time I am?” 

“Harry, I’m sorry. It was an accident, I just forgot.” Your tone starts to match his, annoyed that he’s making such a big deal about it. “You’re the owner of the fucking company, I’m sure if you wanted to a brand new one could be waiting for you in your hotel.”

“I don’t want a brand new one,” he complains. “That one is worn perfectly. It’s the most comfortable one I have.” 

“Jeeze, I’m sorry.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It was an honest mistake.” Harry had never spoken to you like this before, you were shocked and pretty hurt that he could get so upset about something so simple. 

He was about to retort, but his driver honked the horn, reminding him that they needed to be on their way. Harry let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine, whatever. Just send it to me when you have it.” He leaned down, kissing you on the cheek. “If you can remember to.” He grabs his bags and walks out the door before you have a chance to respond. 

You stand in the doorway with your arms folded, watching as the car pulls out of the driveway. You can see Harry in the backseat, face buried in his phone. He didn’t even look up to wave goodbye. 

He also didn’t tell you he loved you. 

Because of a sweatshirt. 

Once his car is out of sight, you close the door and your tears immediately begin to fall. The man who just walked out of your house was not the man that had arrived there. You had never met that man before, and you weren’t particularly fond of him. 

As his car rolled through the streets, Harry was engrossed in nonstop emails and texts. Wardrobe approvals, set designs, schedules for the upcoming rehearsals and events. After an extended break, where he spent his time writing, recording, and relaxing he was about to jump right back into his hectic schedule of tour preparations, press events, talk shows, you name it. The machine was picking up again. And while he was excited to get back out on the road, and to see his fans again, he was going to miss his simpler life. His life with you. 

The two of you had practically become inseparable over the last couple of months. He would come spend a few weeks with you, and then you would travel together wherever he was going. It was the most consecutive time you had spent together in your relationship. You had met while he was in the middle of his last tour, so at most, you’d get a week or two here and there. He was dreading going back to that. 

But he shouldn’t have taken it out on you, and deep down he knew that. He was just really hoping to have that shirt with him. You had been wearing it for months, he knew it would smell like you, a small comfort as he adjusted to life without you by his side. The stress of all the work he had ahead of him, on top of the knot in his stomach over leaving you had come out as frustration at you, the person that meant the most to him.

Several hours later, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Still reeling about how you left things with Harry, that was now compounded by the fact that you hadn’t heard from him. Anytime he arrives at a destination, he always makes sure to at least send you a text so that you know he got there safely. You picked up your phone and opened your text messages, just in case you had maybe missed the notification. You hadn’t. 

He was clearly still upset with you, but that was no excuse to worry you like this. He could have at least had a little bit of courtesy. Before you could talk yourself out of it, your fingers began typing a message. 

Haven’t heard from you. Did you get there okay? 

You kept your eyes locked on the screen for what felt like forever. And then you saw the little bubble, signifying that he was typing. 

Yeah, got in a bit ago.

You stared at the screen with a furrowed brow. You know tone gets lost when communication through text, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was still upset. You still weren’t sure why he was so upset over something so little, but you wanted to try to fix it. You and Harry barely ever fought, and when you did it was usually resolved before you had to be apart. 

Are we good? You usually let me know when you’ve landed. 

You watch the screen again. This time, the little bubble pops up and then disappears a couple of times before you receive your response. 

Sorry, I guess I forgot. 

It was an honest mistake. 

You feel the prick of tears in your eyes as you read his messages. He’s clearly repeating your apology from earlier in the day, but in a way that was almost mocking you. You switch your phone to silent and drop it on the nightstand as the tears fall freely. You cry yourself into the least peaceful sleep of your life. 

Harry sends back to back messages, throwing your own words back in your face, hoping you can see how much they don’t actually help when the person you are telling them to is upset. He had been working non-stop since he had left your house that morning, he had been so busy that he hadn’t had a chance to truly process what had happened let alone really consider his actions or how you were feeling. 

There was a knock on his door, again pulling him away from his thoughts of you. “H, I’ve got that call set up. You ready?” 

“Yeah, coming.” He locked his phone, putting it in his pocket and getting back to work. 

A few days had passed, you and Harry hadn’t really talked about the fight, it was definitely not resolved. Each of you was waiting for the other to apologize. Your phone calls were few and far between, mostly communicating through text. 

One evening, after a long day of meetings and rehearsals, Harry walked into his hotel room to find a box on the bed. He looked at the return address and smiled. This was the olive branch he had been hoping for. He rushed to open the package, smiling wide when he saw the sweatshirt that had started the fight. He pulled it out of the box and inhaled deeply. 

It did smell like you. It smelt like home. 

That one sniff was all it took to snap Harry out of his funk. Everything suddenly made sense, he realized how awful he had been to you. He was so worried about getting the comfort that he needed that he didn’t think about the fact that you were also going to have to live your life without him. 

He returned to the box in search of his note. Every time you sent him something while he was on the road, you’d always include a note. It would be sweet, funny, suggestive, perfectly you. He dug through the box, nothing. He flipped it upside down, ripped it apart just in case it got lodged between the flaps in transit. 

You hadn’t written him a note. 

He hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation until this very moment. In a single moment, without thinking, he jeopardized your relationship, your future. He had vowed to you since the beginning that he would protect your heart. Instead, he shattered it. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, immediately dialing your number. He needed to hear your voice, to tell you how sorry he was, how much he loved you. The first ring didn’t even finish before your voicemail had picked up. His stomach dropped, he knew you had rejected his call. 

He opened up the messaging app, quickly typing out a message to you.

Got your care package, thank you. 😘

He sat on the bed, clutching his sweatshirt close with one hand while the other held his phone in front of him, waiting for your reply. 

NP

He stared at the screen, speechless. You hadn’t even spelled out the words. You never abbreviated your text messages. His heart and mind were racing, he’d never known you to be so short with him. He tried to call once more, but again, he was sent straight to voicemail. 

Hey, can you answer? I need to talk to you.

Your next response came almost immediately. 

Can’t, busy.

Harry let out a deep sigh, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids. Before he could decide on his next words, his phone pinged again. 

I’m not going to be able to come out next week. 

Sorry. 

His heart seemed to stop the second his eyes landed on those words. You were canceling your visit. You always told Harry that nothing could keep you from him, but it looked like you had finally found something, and it was him. 

The day after you canceled your visit with Harry was one of the longest days of your life. You hadn’t slept the night before, too busy crying and worrying about where things stood with Harry. You went to work, but nothing you did could actually be classified at work. You mostly just stared at your computer screen, and took intermittent trips to the bathroom to cry in peace. Harry hadn’t responded to you after you told him you weren’t coming. You couldn’t decide if you were glad, or if it made you more upset. 

As you turned onto your street, you sighed in relief. You had survived the day, and now you were just going to go home, put on your pajamas and get straight into bed. You pulled into your driveway, brow furrowing in confusion when you saw someone sitting on your porch bench. The figure stood as you placed your car in park, and you instantly knew who it was. 

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. You grabbed your purse and got out of your car, walking straight to your door without looking at him. You weren’t sure you were in the right headspace for this confrontation.  

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, he sounded defeated as you walked past him, unlocking your door. 

“What are you doing here, Harry?” You asked, holding the door for him as you walked into the house. 

He followed you inside, watching as you slid off your shoes and hung your bag up. “You… uh, you canceled your visit.” 

You stood with your back to him, not waiting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you get emotional. “It didn’t seem worth it.” You shrugged. “I’m not going to take time off from work and fly across the country just to have you give me one word answers with some kind of attitude.” 

He heard you sniffle, and he moved on instinct, spinning you to face him. His eyes went wide when he saw your tears falling freely. “Oh princess,” he extended his arms out, but before he could pull you into him, you stepped away. “Y/N please, just talk to me. I’m so sorry baby.” 

“Harry, you were really mean to me about a sweatshirt.” You took a shuttered breath, wiping your tears away before continuing. “And then you didn’t text me when you landed, I reached out to try to fix it, but you were snarky and shitty to me. I just didn’t understand wha…” The lack of sleep, the constant worry and sadness all caught up to you in that moment and a loud sob escaped you as you dropped your head into your hands. 

“Y/N…” Harry stepped up, pulling you against his chest and holding you close. “Shhh… I’m sorry angel, I am so so sorry. You didn’t do anything.” 

“I didn’t forget it on purpose, I didn’t know you were going to want it, I just liked having it because you were gone and it made me feel close to you.” Your breath was hitching and your voice was muffled against his chest. 

“I know, I know. That’s why I wanted it too.” He explained as he walked you over to the couch and sat down with you. You pulled back, looking at him curiously. “You’d had it so long that I knew it would smell like you. We had just spent all of this amazing time together, and I knew I would miss you so much, I just wanted something to remind me of you.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” You asked, your breathing slowly returning to normal. 

“I don’t know. I was just so stressed about everything picking back up, and the car was there ready to take me away from you.” He took your hand in his, kissing it softly. “I had gotten so used to having you with me every day, I hated that I had to be apart from you again.” He lifted his hand to your cheek, wiping your tears. “I was being selfish. Thinking about how busy I was, and how much I was going to miss you that I didn’t even think about how you might be feeling.” 

You nodded silently as you looked up, really taking him in for the first time. His eyes were red rimmed too, he was looking at you with love and a hint of fear, worried that he may have done irreparable damage. “Long distance is hard.”  

“Really hard,” he agreed. “But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. I love you so much baby, I’m so sorry.” 

“I love you too,” you reply. He let out a breath at your words. You hadn’t said those words to him since before he left, he missed hearing them terribly. “And I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, my love. This was all on me, I was being petty and childish.” He cupped your face in his hands, pulling your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. 

As soon as you separated for air, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled yourself against his chest. The two of you sat in silence like that for a few moments, your emotions leveling out, both realizing that you were going to be okay. Being apart was hard, but your love was strong enough to get you through it. 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

[ihidemydemons20]

Okay after watching season 3 I have this to say: Absolutely 100% fuck Mike and Anna Carrera. Seriously, I was ready to give them some benefit of the doubt but holy shit, I expected nothing and I was still let down.

Putting aside all the horrible shit they said about and to JJ (well done Mike, what a big man you are, standing over and putting down a teenager, bravo!) Sarah comes to them, a literal child, who in their minds is from the ‘right’ side of town, upset, asking for help and a place to stay. They know this child has no parents, no family and what do they, grown adults, decide to do? Berate her on ‘boundaries’ and turn her away to sleep on the streets with no money, food or care!

Like what the actual fuck is wrong with them, and then have the audacity to throw a party celebrating themselves and claiming they love both sides of the island. Yeah, only if they fit your standards, right?

It’s hard in the OBX world to make it to the top of the shitty parents list but oh boy did they climb high this season, and since Luke has vanished into the abyss, you Carrera’s better be careful cause you’re currently gunning for the number one spot, especially since your competition keeps dying!

#outer banks #obx #obx3 #obx season 3 #obx spoilers #jiara #jj maybank #kiara carrera #Mike carrera #Anna carrera

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part eight | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become close friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - swearing, use of y/n, BOYS (no smut… for now lol)

word count - 1500+

NOT PROOFREAD

-

this morning of school was tense. all day i was waiting to hear from anna to cuss me out, ask for a ride home or act like nothing happened and be petty. none of the above happened. she literally didnt go to school.

chris and i hung out at lunch and were just waiting for anna to start texting one of us aggressively but she didnt.

the silent treatment was killing me. why couldnt she just talk to me about what she was feeling. she had it all wrong and if she wasnt talking to me or chris she would just live thinking that we were hooking up being her back. it doesnt help the situation at all that shes ignoring us because we couldnt fully explain ourselves. but with anna, i dont even think clarification would change her mind.

chris and i were about to leave school when i got a text from anna:

monday 3:14pm

anna: i need you to come over, its urgent

as soon as i read the message i booked it to chris’ car showing him the message. “chris what the fuck am i supposed to do.” i exclaim shoving my phone in his face. he grabs it from my hand and reads it, “go.” is all he says.

“go?”

“yes go right now, this is literally our only chance of saving this whole situation.” he says.

“chris i am scared what are you not understanding.” i snap.

“me and you both have watched anna single handedly take girls down for messing with her relationships even if they didnt matter. you have watched her fight girls in the hallway just for looking at her wrong, now you have a chance to fix this and your ‘too scared’.” he explains

i pause thinking about what to do. part of me thinks hes right but the other part is saying that im about to get bitch slapped into oblivion. the people she cares about most betrayed her, atleast in her eyes.

“i dont even know what to say.” i mumble. “maybe explain the fucking situation.” he says in a duh tone. “got it.” i say before running into my car, backing out of my spot and waving off chris.

after driving to annas house ,which time felt like it was speeding past me, i got out of the car and let out a sigh i didnt know i had been holding in. walking up to the front door i run over every detail of what im about to say, finally reaching the top of her porch stairs i knock on the door. the door flys open and anna has the sweetest smile on her face.

im guessing she doesnt know that chris told me about what she said since she started talking to me like normal.

“what did i miss at school any hot gos?” she says walking towards her fridge and grabbing a sparkling water. “uhhh no?” i hesitate for a second confused. “oh lame.” she frowns.

“well i have some.” she says.

“about who?” i question even though i have a feeling i know where she is going with this.

“one of our best friends.” she is talking almost as if she is animated. most likely to freak me out, its working.

“ouu interesting.” i reply.

“yeah! so, one of our closest friends is hooking up with chris behind my back, she actually thinks i wont do something about it.” she states in the same animated tone.

“anna you can drop it i know your talking about me.” i say my face blank.

her face drops “oh so you admit it.”

“no i actually came here to knock some sense in to you.”

she hums in response raising her eyebrows. “what the fuck game do you think your playing at anna. i mean seriously, drop this little creepy act your not intimidating anyone. if you knew everything you wouldnt be acting like a bitch right now.” i snap.

“ouu look who grew a pair, im not going to sit here and listen to your fake ass apologies so you can leave and perhaps let the door hit you on the way out.” she says with a smug smile on her face. “anna if you would get out of your own head you could stop yourself from losing two friends who care about you.”

“friends?” she scoffs, “what great friends i have. did you enjoy your movie night or did chris’ dick feel too good down your throat? i dont need you anymore you see, all you do is complain and complain. you wanna act innocent? get out of my house and i wont tell anyone your as fake as you really are.” she scolds.

“you dont mean that.” my heart shatters as my best friend basically tells me im nothing to her anymore. “oh y/n i mean every word.” she waves at me and turns around.

“unbelievable.” i scoff as i walk out.

if there was anything i knew about anna was that she could lie right through her perfect teeth. if she says shes not going to tell people that she thinks me and chris are hooking up, she quiet literally means the opposite. so if she wants to play that game i will too.

im done getting pushed around by her.

i immediately dial chris’ phone number.

ring ring ring

chris answers the phone.

“hey kid, did everything go smoothly as planned?” he asks.

“no, anna is actually the most horrible human being on the planet i cannot fucking believe i wasted years of my life on that bitch.”

“woah woah calm down. explain to me what happened.” he tries to mediate.

“ill be over in 5.” i say before hanging up and getting into my car.

-

i sped over to chris’ house so angry i swear i passed about 3 stop signs.

“anna is actually unreal i never should have agreed to this little deal of yours to set you up with her.” i storm in to chris’ room. he shoots up at my entrance “ok y/n you actually need to chill the fuck out.” he breathes.

“no chris in not going to ‘chill the fuck out’” i mock, “you know what the fuck she said to me?” i say. “what?” he says.

“she said she doesnt need me anymore.” i quote anna. chris’ face drops. i walk over to his bed dropping my school bag on his floor. “how exactly did all of this blow up in your face this bad?” he questions. “well i walked in acting clueless and she kept talking to me like everything was fine and i was extremely confused right?” i explain. “mhm” chris hums waiting for the rest of the story.

“so she started saying one of her closest friends betrayed her and thought they got away with no consequences, so then i just confronted the situation and she took that as me confessing to everything. so i started to explain myself and then she started saying how we are fake people and that if i didnt leave her house she would tell everyone was a snake and fucking you behind her back.” i continue.

“but you left so your fine right?”

“chris do you even know who anna is? like seriously.” i say and he shrugs his shoulders.

“by tomorrow pretty much everyone will be talking about how we got together behind annas back.” i state.

“im so done being pushed around by her. she always called me a buzzkill when i didnt feed into her constant boy troubles. and you know what carson told me, he said that anna has been scaring guys away from me for years. she never saw me as a friend. she only ever saw me as competition. years of friendship for nothing.”

“if she is going to tell everyone that were snakes then let them believe it.” he blurts out.

i make a confused face at him “chris wha-“ he cuts me off “people are going to believe anna no matter what right?” i shrug in response, “so why dont we entertain the idea for them.” he explains

“chris have you actually lost it?” i say. “nope. kid i dont know about you but anna seems like she wasnt the bestie we thought she was.” he says emphasizing ‘bestie’.

“no?” i respond.

“so then lets get back at her, make everyone think were dating.”

“yeah chris i got that but what do we get out of it?”

“you get back at your horrible bitchy best friend and i get a fake hot girlfriend.”

-

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @accio326 @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23

a/n: YALLL IM SO EXCITED TO SEE REACTIONS TO THIS. i have the whole story planned out in my head and we are finally getting into the real plot of this story. hope you guys enjoyed.🩷🩷🩷

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #matthew bernard sturniolo #matty b sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 2

Tagging: @bloody-mf-bsc

Liked by freddycarter1, kittheyounger, benbarnes and 5,795,598 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Field Day ❤️‍🔥🏜️

View 546,923 comments

freddycarter1: I'm telling you, this woman has problems. A "Field Day" is supposed to be fun, not scorching.

Y/N Y/L/N: Ancient civilisations lived like that and they were fine 😑

freddycarter1: They DIED! And we are in modern times, if it wasn't for Amita and Danielle, we would be one of those skeletons in the corner!

freddycarter1: And yes, there were skeletons! See the TRUE side of your precious, her fans!

User3: She could do no wrong😒

Y/N Y/L/N: Ahh, yes, I had to think of the ladies...🥰 And then you and the others.😒

Y/N Y/L/N: @ user3 my babies, I knew you would back me up 🥰 SUCK THAT FREDDY 🖕

kittheyounger: benbarnes, come and get your woman from here. She is bullying us!

Y/N Y/L/N: What gave you the idea that I don't bully him already?

User2: Y/N's clear love for the women of the cast is... Just so us.

Liked by benbarnes, archierenaux3, pascalispunk, milliebobbiebrown and 6,745,352 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Archie said it wasn't that hard to be the Darkling

1. This is just Ben waiting like a Karen so that this "bullshit" would stop.

2. And this is Ben when he actually realized that Archie looked good doing it.

View 785,545 comments

benbarnes: How dare you call me a "Karen" woman?! I call you "love of my life" and that's what I get?

Y/N Y/L/N: But you love me~ 🤭🤗🥰 Besides you don't need to be told that, you are the most handsome man to me!

benbarnes: You know other men? 🤨

Y/N Y/L/N: Seriously? ರ⁠_⁠ರ

User5: Now, Ben is also being a gremlin lol

User3: Only Y/N could call Ben a "Karen" and I'd be fine with it..

User5: She calls us "her gremlins" but at this point, she is the gremlin of all gremlins 😂

User6: Somewhere down the comments, It's said that Y/N had found her new victim, none other than DADDY PEDRO

User5: Their energy matches so well, both chaotic and energetic

User1: And add Oscar too... OMG THE GREMLIN TRIO *WAR SOUNDS*

User2: Ben Barnes Slander made by Y/N affectionetly had started again. Sorrows... sorrows, prayers.

pascalispunk: Suddenly I'm scared of having her around after all of her chaotic posts, and even more chaotic captions...

Y/N Y/L/N: You should be, I'm coming for you next after we're done with those dorks

Liked by jessie_mei_li, benbarnes, blakelively and 7,677,421 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Uhm, excuse me but what the actual fuck? Can you get your hands off of my wives benbarnes?

User2: It's official: Y/N is a simp for Jessie the most and a big fan of her ladies lol

User4: Today, folks, even Ben Barnes lost to women

User5: But is it trully a loss if It's SaB women?

shadowandbone: Once again, women 🌠

User2: I think SaB account is also run by her...

User8: Where is Amita, Daisy and Sujaya? 🤔

Y/N Y/L/N: Safe in my room.🫦

User8: and Anna?

Y/N Y/L/N: I'm safe in her room.

User4: If Y/N was a Man, she would be the greenest green flag

Hater1: or a red flag... ı don't understand how everyone can love her so much. She is so annoying

User3: you can dislike her but never insult her like that. One, she has millions of fans two, she is almost the backbone of the industry and three, her man is overprotective asf

User2: @user3 don't bother too much, girl. Queen Y/N doesn't care about what the other think of her

User3: Say what you want, but I'm sure she cheated on Ben with one of them, or who knows? Maybe Ben also did it? Look at how he is with Jessie and say it to my face

User3: wtf is wrong with you? Neither Ben nor Y/N would ever do that. They had been together for almost three years and are committed to each other! They trust each other immensely which already means a lot to both of them, and shows us the deep connection they have. They are both succesfull, they already met their families and will probably get married soon and be happy with each other forever! And don't even bring my Jessie into this, she is the sweetest soul ever and she is like that with everyone else! She told many times that she was so nervous to shoot her scenes with Ben because she thought Y/M would be angry but our Queen never did and rrusted Ben, which isn't an easy feat for her! If you aren't a delulu girl, I don't know what you are and stay away from our beautiful and cute Y/N and her amazing boyfriend benbarnes! Liked by Y/N Y/L/N and benbarnes

User4: Sis ate up and left now crumbs user3, amazing human being really...

User3: and I'm calling the dibs on their wedding! This is literally the only thing I want and my mum tells me that I wasn't that passionate and eager to go to college... So, imagine my state right now (⁠ﾉ⁠≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠ ⁠ﾐ⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

User9: When did this shit go south like that?? Let our parents live their lives peacefully you jealous shits! Are yall blind to not see the obvious love in both their eyes? I can take you to visit a doctor??

SaB.memes: Just a quick question: What was your first reaction when you saw Danielle in the audition?

Y/N: I fell down from my fucking chair, that is what happened.

SaB.memes: and what about the Blake Lively liking your chaotic posts? 🤔

User3: You shouldn't have pointed that out *looks at Y/N worriedly*

Y/N Y/L/N: She didn't like my- HOLY SHIT, IT'S THE FUCKING BLAKE LIVELY?! *screeches like a dinosaur* JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE!

User3: yep, the reaction we all expexted

Y/N Y/L/N: People had been asking me to share some Ben appreciation because I had been bullying him... And since he doesn't agree on talking to me unless I make a fluffy post about him, and he is backed up by the fans, here it is... I guess?

1. Said this one was for me before he went and shot the most obsecure and violent scene we ever did... Gee, thanks😑

2. Can you get off of my throne? You lost your chance 600 years ago!

3. This is just Ben turning crispy and flirting with me , using a corny pick-up line like "There she is, my saviour angel!"... Sir, I'm the reason you are burning in that costume😑

View 456,989 comments

User4: Y/N slandering Darkling is forever gonna be carved into my mind.

Y/N Y/L/N: Darkling deserves to be punched, rolled over, stabbed, burnt and every other thing... But my Ben only deserves to be coddled and well-taken care of as I babygirl him

User5: I don't know why... But suddenly, a tear ran down my legs at her possessive usage of "my Ben". Was it just me? (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

User5: No bestie... I think I just flushed so bad that I had to take a breather (⁠●⁠_⁠_⁠●⁠)

User4: It's official ladies! Ben Barnes is getting the babygirl treatment! As he should djjddj

User7: Do you guys think Ben stalks her page and giggles like a highschool girl whenever he sees her posts?

User1: would be a shame if he didn't

amita_suman: to add to the comments, he blushes until he is a walking tomato too!

freddycarter1: and we confirm that yes, he does all of that indeed.

jessie_mei_li: And yes, he read her comment with "my Ben" and now we can't find hım... They are either making out right now, or he is hiding. Either way, he was so red 🤣

Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1, vancityreynolds, amita_suman and 7,896,995 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Be grateful for me and my holy ability to take unexpected yet amazing photos. Eat them up everyone!

View 897,698 comments

User5: our lord and saviour has blessed us once again🤲

User4: Had it been not for her, we wouldn't start our day good

freddycarter1: As usual, I'm looking good.

Y/N Y/L/N: Only thanks to me and your wife Kazzle Dazzle

User7: Y/N knows what she is doing... And she is having her fun

User9: There doesn't go a day without her bullying them at least once 🤣

Y/N.Fanpage: She wakes up, looks at Ben's sleeping face and just decides that It's a good day to bully him as she prepares her coloring pencils 😌

User2: What?! OMG I CAN'T- She didn't right? 🤣

Y/N.Fanpage: she did! And he didn't leave the house for the whole day and trapped her inside with him... iykyk 😉😏

User5: OMG-

benbarnes: RYAN REYNOLDS LIKED YOUR POST?

Y/N Y/L/N: said the man who avoided me because I had the same reaction with Blake 😒😑

freddycarter1: do you both have to simp for everyone?

Y/N Y/L/N: We are appreciating the God's work, Freddy... AND RYAN AND BLAKE ARE NOT EVERYONE!😡

benbarnes: Well-said, my love! Peasants like hım wouldn't understand...

User6: To see both of them having a weak spot for Ryan and Blake is... My two parents showing their love for each other 🥹

User4: Blake and Y/N are good friends for years now, and seeing that they are both happy with their lovers is just so beautiful

User8: yeah, they both went through hard times alone together. Seeing them find their other halves is so nice!

blakelively: It's so nice to see you both so well, love! Missed you so much ❤️

Y/N Y/L/N: Me too, Blake! Gosh, it has been soooo long... How are my precious nieces?

blakelively: missing their auntie as usual! And the newest one is eager to meet you too! On thursday? The usual? 😉

Y/N Y/L/N: You bet! And Ben can finally shut up about me being have to introduce Ryan and him

vancityreynolds: Please don't play monopoly...

benbarnes: Too late... She is already grinning like a cheshire cat and is very eager to use her "Crows tactics"...

vancityreynolds: We are doomed...

User6: both Ben and Ryan being uxorious for their lovers is what we ladies need to look for in a man

User10: Y/N, what's the thing you love about Ben the most?

Y/N Y/L/N: Aww, such a sweet question coming from such a sweet person! The answer is: Everything...😍🥰☺️. Liked by benbarnes

User10: OMG you both are so cute! Thank you for answering and being who you are! Have a good day both of you! Liked by benbarnes and Y/N Y/L/N

#shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone series #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone cast #shadow and bone #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes #celebrity x reader #celebrity imagine #celebrity au #celebrity reader #celebrity #instagram au #instagram #blake lively #ryan reynolds #fluff

[fullmetalgirl98]

30 days Hypnosis Mic challenge

DAY 9: favorite duet song

🎤 「Murder at the House of Magic (奇術館の殺人 / Kijutsu-kan no Satsujin) 」 - Gentaro & Dice (2nd duet)

(link)

Just to make it immediately clear: my obsession level is high (yes, this post is going to be super long, and yes, I apologize in advance for that). I'm not exaggerating when I say that I know every single word of this song by heart. I even made a fanart for this song. Check it out, if you're curious 👉 (link)

I became aware of the existence of this duet far too late, in April 2022, i think??, and in the saddest way possible: through the wiki while searching for only God knows now what kind of other stuff. Of course, considering that Dice and Gentaro are two of my fave characters ever, it was a scandal for me not to have known earlier about the existence of a new duet of theirs, other than Once upon a time in Shibuya, which is iconic in itself, so I went crazy, obviously, and dashed off in search of the song (with very little success, I have to say)... and when I finally found it and it started playing, I almost had a heart attack. What. the actual. hell. was. that.

I expected everything, except something of that sort.

Right from the very first notes, I knew this was gonna be BIG stuff. I mean, VERY BIG.

The vibe it gave me, initially, was something alien, the instrumental intro smelled a lot like the X-files theme song to me (link).

Then Gentaro started, in his usual calm and sexy tone, and I caught the word "satsujin jiken". But so far, let's say, nothing exceptionally new. I knew I should expect some mystery to solve... I mean, the title spoke loud ¯\(ツ)/¯

But poor little naive Anna, soon after the bomb was dropped straight to the center of an indefinite part of my brain.

A serious Dice.

A bloody serious Dice. A Dice that, instead of rapping, was literally speaking (or at least, the initial impression was seriously that). I...I've never heard Dice speaking in such a hard, deadly serious yet sexy, defiant, cocky and confident tone, like... I- ... I didn't even think he could ever speak in such a way!? Like. Dice. HELLO?! Where is my genuine idiotic cute drenched cat gone?! I'm scared?? But at the same time extremely intrigued?? WTF?! Help??!! Let's make one thing clear: when I first heard the song, I obviously had not read the translation yet. So, how shall I explain what I thought ... mhm... the impression was that he was speaking not in a good-guy-trying-to-be-cool sense, absolutely not. His tone was blatantly the tone of a thug. And a particularly dangerous one. The impact of the very first verse of his, "Danna shindanda na, zannen da" was something absurd. I swear. Something of disarming power. And then the tone used in the "tamannee na" immediately afterwards. Guys, I swear to you. I had completely lost my mind. I was totally in love with this new Dice, you have no idea. I was going crazy, I just wanted to know WHY he was talking in that absolutely crazy HOT way. I LOVE how it's clearly perceivable that Dice is speaking with a smirk on his face, that of someone who is sure that he cannot be set up. And I could go on listing word by word all the vocal proclivities that have slowly sent me further and further into the hyperuranium BUT I will refrain from doing so for your sake, because this post would probably become longer than it already is going to be. And then the refrain. Simply BRILLIANT. I mean, it's already not enough that this too, like Stella, is a song set up as a story told by Gentaro, in which he then becomes one of the characters in the plot (you can't tell I have logic behind my preferences, can you?), but a semi-occult code was also inserted?????? Who the hell came up with the idea of putting the spelling of Dice and Gentaro's names at the beginning of each verse of the chorus? WHO? Give a fucking award to the composer, I beg you: (A)Up & down, Rikou na yatsu wo, Sukkari damashite Ganchuu nai Wakattenda Dare na no ka Izure wa Subete wo raizarai;

Yurusan, Meshi toraeru, Nogasanai shi Genkei nai Takara, Rou sezu shite, Umaku moratte Say Good Bye I don't know if i'm making the point clear enough, here.

And then the whole Uh!(Ah!)Uh!Uh!(Ah!) thing. Gentaro firing off his "Ichi wa ichi, zero wa zero, hachi wa hachi" with that studied air of his who knows he has the other guy completely on the hook. And the way you can perfectly sense that the mood of the conversation is starting to turn against Dice, when he throws out that "Nani?!" and then that "Kuso!" so particularly intense (KYAAAAAHHH (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)).

OH, and I can't help but mention how the "Hachiji nijuppun" thing practically became a meme between me and @justanotherniky (fixed message in chat at 8:20 p.m.: "HACHIJI NIJUPPUN" when we don't happen to forget about it).

I swear guys, you have no idea how much I lost my mind behind this duet. Because c'mon, I don't know if you guys are realizing, but it's fucking genius. And, last but not least, how not to mention the classic "Uso desu kedo ne~" at the close. Epic.

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #30 days hypnosis mic challenge #day 9 #30 day challenge #murder at the house of magic #kijutsukan no satsujin #奇術館の殺人 #fling posse #yumeno gentaro #gentaro yumeno #arisugawa dice #dice arisugawa #gendice #fp & m + #anime #manga #japanese rap

[helloimsoverybored]

A Pretty Long Rant on RPF shippers in the context of David Tennant and Michael Sheen

the entire georgia/anna discourse is so. bullshit. because those are actual, real people, with real lives and real relationships with those around them

Regarding dt and gt, just saying, no one has five children together as part of a pr stunt. Same with Michael and Anna.

And the fact that rpf people fail to realise this is concerning- taking the "my wife" jokes quite literally. News flash, it's a fucking joke. It's not something gt and al are making up to cover up for the fact that their respective partners fell in love with each other (yes, this is an actual take i've seen on this matter)

And idk if the rpf people are just dumb or are fully aware of what they're doing, despite the fact that they're completely tearing apart the lives of real people.

Another retort I've often seen is that fans have the right to criticize celebrities. Yes, yes they do. But breaking down a marriage spanning over a decade isn't criticism! You're creating fake problems out of thin air and for what? Genuinely, for what?

Rpf shippers just automatically assume the worst in both Georgia and Anna, and you know what? God forbid women do anything. Because that's exactly what this is.

They're completely vilifying gt and al because... they're in a relationship with their "blorbo actors?" They're acting like gt/dt and al/ms are fictional characters that you can play around with like dolls but you can't play around with real people's lives! Simply put, it isn't ethical.

I feel like the rpf people just fail to understand the meaning of “real”, because I don’t even know how one can feel so alright and happy by tearing apart the lives of real people. The fact that people are finding every possible way to find problems in their current relationships to suit their fantasies is so fucking disgusting.

Okay now if you're with me so far, I'm impressed. Stay with me because I'm not done yet.

Regarding Georgia, don't rpf blogs just love to criticize her and her parenting methods? That Georgia's just lazy and only wants to drink wine, but omfg. wtf. She has fucking 5 children. I don't care what you think, managing those many kids is NOT an easy task. But also... posts I've seen on this matter never seem to bring up David? Why? Isn't he a parent? Shouldn't he also have a role in parenting? Whatever Georgia does surely won't be against what David believes, right? Wake up, rpf shippers, wake the fuck up.

David almost definitely does have a role in the parenting (anyone willing to fight me on this, come off, I'll give you the reasons) but since he’s all over London at the moment, he probably doesn’t have much time. Which means that gt has to manage 4-5 kids all by herself. So she does actually deserve a break, more than anyone else. But she doesn’t because wahoo god forbid women do anything.

And putting all that aside, what the hell gives rpf people the right to hate on her as if they know her irl. Their default behavioral status is set to mean and bitchy and that’s just. concerning. rpf people need to understand the difference between real life and fiction istfg.

Okay, i swear I'm nearing the end of this rant, please don't go yet.

Sometimes fans do have the right to speak up against an UNHEALTHY relationship. There are multiple examples all over the place where one person has expressed dissatisfaction but no one took them seriously. Except… neither gt/dt nor ms/al have expressed dissatisfaction. At all. It’s actually the exact opposite where they keep fawning for each other. There’s 0 suggestions of any of them being unhappy in their respective relationships apparent from yall overanalyzing their body language to the point where it becomes false.

Do Georgia and Anna ship themselves with each other and ship David with Michael? Yes. But that's a fucking joke. Learn to take a joke, yalls, it will get you a long way. And even if they are the ones doing the shipping, so what? That doesn’t give you the right to. It’s their lives. You’re just a person viewing their lives from a small peep hole known as Instagram.

#david tennant #michael sheen #anna lundberg #georgia tennant #good omens #staged #bbc staged #rpf #anti rpf #rant

[revnah1406]

🌕Amara X Sparrow☀️Wedding headcanons💍

Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton

Amara Thompson

(the green brush means how it actually went 🥰)

I know there's still a long journey in their love story but I talked about this with a few mutuals on the discord server and I can't stop thinking about it hahahaha! My babies getting married 😭😭

So here are a few cute Headcanons about her Wedding!🥰🧡✨

They started to talk about getting married a Year later after Amara moved to Zermatt (Switzerland) with Sparrow. They also mentioned it on their first anniversary. First it was casual, talking about the advantages of getting married and fantasizing about how amazing it could be.

After a couple months Sparrow started to think about it more seriously. Talked with her siblings and her mother looking for advice. Of course their family was more than supportive and excited.

She wanted to keep things small, simple, but make it personal. She knew Amara liked small jewellery, nothing too showy. Sparrow wanted to make the ring all by herself, to give more personal value, so she asked for advice from her closest friends, Aly (@alypink ) helped with the design, Damien (@kaitaiga ) helped to forge and weld it, Anna (@applbottmjeens ) helped with the proposal, how to prepare the perfect moment.

Sparrow would lie if she said she wasn't nervous. She decided to propose during a hike. She woke Amara really early and prepared breakfast... Being more romantic than usual. Amara complained about going for a hike and offered staying at home, she wasn't the most enthusiastic person about hiking. So the possibility of cancelling the plan made Hannah really nervous but she managed to convince Amara, promising she will massage her feet and back for hours once they return home.

When they got to the top of the mountain, with the beautiful swiss mountain landscape, Sparrow knelt in front of Amara and showed a beautiful handmade ring made with pyrite (gold was more expensive and harder to work on).

"Amara, my love. Hey look at me. I know I know sweetheart." Sparrow got even more nervous when Amara started crying, she had to hold her hand to steady her. "You already know this. And you know I'm awful with words. This is just a little reminder that you are everything to me. With you I forget all the bad things. You showed me how it feels to be truly loved, and showed me how to truly love you. I just... wanted to climb one more step with you, together..."

Amara's knees were clearly shaking. "I can't fucking believe you made me do this in sweatpants and fucking hiking boots Han..." She shook her head, trying to assimilate what was happening.

Sparrow chucked. "So is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes you dumb idiot!!" Amara wasn't angry, far beyond that, she was too happy, too anxious, too excited she didn't know how to process all those emotions. Sparrow got up and put the ring on Amara's finger, now her fiancée.

The Wedding was six months later, during spring. Amara planned everything with her mother in Law's and Aly's help. She knew Sparrow wasn't very good at planning big events, and Hannah would always like what Amara proposed.

In the end the Wedding was on the mountains, that was Sparrow's only wish. A small one, with friends and family. It wasn't very traditional, they got married civilly two days before the wedding, so Hubber (Sparrow's captain in the Swiss Armed Forces) could make oficial the union of both women in the ceremony.

Hannah's father took Amara to the altar. The stoic man cried and had no fear of showing it. He kissed Amara's forehead before handing her to his daughter. "Your parents would be so proud of you"

Tora (Sparrow's dog) proudly brought the rings to the altar. And after an emotional speech from Hubber Sparrow could kiss Amara and name Amara her wife.

The ceremony was amazing. The after party was even better.

The Wedding night was so sweet, full of kisses, necking and love.

When it was time to organise the honeymoon, Amara had to fight with Sparrow. Hannah wanted to go to Nepal, to show Amara the big 8000s. But Amara refused to climb one single rock during her honeymoon. NUH UH. So she offered to go to Japan, and visit Kyoto, Amara's mother's native city.

They spend a few lovely days there and Sparrow learnt more about Amara's family.

A couple months after the honeymoon Hannah decided to retire from the military.

#hannah sparrow clayton #amara thompson #sparrow x amara #amara x sparrow #call of duty #call of duty oc #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #my ocs #oc x oc #wedding headcanons #oc headcanons

[hypnotisedfireflies]

And one year ago today ...

... I posted the first chapter of Drifter's Dawn!

So that means it's been like a year of writing other stories and entering spinoff universes and answering prompts and asks and best of all, getting to know so many other mad, lovely, Tessjoels. I've made the best fucking friends in this fandom. <3

I think most of you know before Dawn it had been a long time since I'd seriously written fic (I'd updated a very old story shortly before, but that was all) and coming back to writing has been the very best thing for my soul.

It is so WEIRD. A whole year, what the actual...

Thank you all for being here and loving these stupid smugglers as much as I do. xoxoxo

And thank YOU, Blessed Recluse Queen Anna Torv, for building so beautifully on a character I'd loved for years that I could not help but finally write about Tess.

#tlou #tlou fanfic #the last of us #tess servopoulos #joel x tess #tlou fanfiction #tessjoel #tess lives #joel loves tess

[yandere-romanticaa]

Anna. Give it to me straight. As an Otome loving gal, out of 10 rate your top 3 Ikemen games and a brief description of WHY you’d recommend them? I see you talking about Ikemen and I wanna get into it but I don’t know yet.

Ok so, this is the order I started playing them because in truth, all of the Ikemen games are good in my opinion.

❤️ IKEMEN SENGOKU.

This was, I believe, my first ever otome!! I actually started playing it because I saw that the voice actor for one of my top anime husbands, Mikaela Hyakuya, was in this game so I was SOLD, I just went in blindly.

I never turned back though.

In this game, through a freak accident the MC ends up going back in time to the Sengoku era and meets the actual warlords such as Oda Nobunaga, Mitsuhide Akechi and many others. She is trying to find a way to go back home and not fall in love with any of the warlords. Now, in case you don't know, the Sengoku era was the era in which Japan was united which meant that there was a lot of war and battling, which gives this game a bit of edge. All of the characters have this epic air to them, everything they do is for the greater good but then the MC shows up and just fucks it all up with her presence jahahaah

Personally, I'd give it a 7/10. Solid game but not quite as good as some other games. There is also a bonus to learn a little bit about Japanese history lmao!!

❤️ IKEMEN VAMPIRE.

Ah, here we are, to my personal favorite.

I'm biased, I'm a sucker for vampires, okay? I also find it so hilarious how this game takes some of the most famous people in history and turns them into cute anime boys which you can date. Seriously, just what game allows you to date Napoleon Bonaparte or Mozart?? Well, it's this one!! Here, the MC follows a mysterious man, Comte, through a door that sends her back in time to 19th century France. That's not all though!! She is stuck in a mansion full of these historical figures, who all happened to be hot vampires! They're all there for a reason and it's bloody amazing.

Can you tell that I love this game? Because I fucking love this game.

In my objective opinion, it's either 8.5ish/10, maybe even 9/10. I'm not good at rating, my apologies. But since I'm biased, I'll give it 10/10. I'm in love, leave me alone.

❤️ IKEMEN PRINCE.

This might just be the best game yet. The writing is very good here, it feels as though the developers keep pouring more and more love into each new game that comes out.

In this game, the MC lives in the fictional kingdom of Rhodolite. Whenever the ruler dies, a maiden with a fair and pure heart is selected to become "Belle", who has the duty of selecting the next ruler of the nation. She must become close with all of the candidates and understand them well in order to pick the right ruler. The catch?

Once the king is selected, Belle is not allowed to have any contact with the new king. Bummer, am I right?

There's a plethora of princes to choose from, even some from opposing kingdoms. My own bias is creeping in oopsie, but Gilbert is a treat. So is Kieth tbh. The world feels very real and fleshed out, there's always SOMETHING happening in the background which makes this game feel more alive, if that makes sense.

Dare I say, this game is a 10/10.

✨ PRO TIP! - For all of these games, if a character has different colored eyes, he's most likely a yandere.

#ikemen prince #ikemen sengoku #ikemen vampire #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #♥️ girlie says #🤍 anon asks

[girlwithamissingpearl]

What the actual fuck did people expect from this movie. I mean rom com on.

Some people were always going to rate it a 10, others a 1. My advice-knock out the 1’s and 10’s and look in the middle. Personally I have no interest in paying someone to scare the shit out of me. Any film about war in the stars or a galaxy near you-not my thing. Fast cars- meh. Superhero movies not my thing. But for others this is their thing. I hadn’t been to a film in the cinema for years. I forgot how much fun it was. This is the perfect movie to grab the girls, stock up on popcorn and twizzlers and get comfortable in your seat. Firstly it’s a rom com not Anna Karenina, if you’re looking for the latter this is not for you. If you’re looking for a love story with a bit of a twist this is your film. Personally I thought SH was adorkable. I liked SH snd PC together but if you’re expecting SH-CB chemistry you’ll be disappointed. For me it was light and funny and a bit sad but not trying to be something it’s not. My friend and I had a really good time and left the theatre happy. CD’s music doesn’t disappoint. And if you’re looking to be entertained for a couple of hours , Love Again is for you. If you are a SH fan this is your film. I just want to be upfront and honest with this review. Again for me a solid 8.😉

Why the fuck are people once again posting some of the nastiest, most mean spirited reviews. Seriously WTF

Does anyone believe that any of these critics watched the entire film? Do these critics have any idea who the target audience is? Yes, the film has not been a box office success, but once a streaming option kicks in, the film will likely end the year in the black. Based on reviews by people, singles and couples that have in fact watched the film, the reviews have been favourable. It’s, sweet, funny and CD’s music is great. And easy to watch. So for those who get off criticizing women who have seen the film more than once, or purchased or rented online- knock it off. And knock off the SH is stealing our money, because he’s not. And finally, look for the clip making the rounds where SH as RB, does a little dance in front of the mirror and tell me he is not adorable and awkward and sexy and hot. Hating a film because you can find terrible reviews just doesn’t hold the same weight as a paying customer who actually watched the film. It just doesn’t.

#love again Sam Heughan

[sherifftillman]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Holy shit, look at this! One month to finish one chapter, and then I churn out another in 5 days. Who am I?!

Seriously, your response to last chapter blew me away. That's what got me writing so quick. That, and I can't bear our Ralphie being sad, lol. This is a very Ralph-centric chapter, so I hope you enjoy! <3

Also, this chapter introduces what may be my most favourite character yet. I can't wait to write more of her.

Set your alarm to a sound you like, they said. You’ll wake up in a better mood, they said. Guaranteed good start to the day, they said. You don’t even remember putting your phone on charge last night. You remember getting out of the taxi. You remember opening the door. You remember going up the stairs. You remember face-planting into the bed. But you don’t even remember getting your phone back out from where you’d put it.

Something doesn’t feel right about the bed, though. You roll over and notice there’s no other weight pressing down on the mattress. Turning yourself fully, you see that Ralph’s not in the bed with you. Neither are his pillows. His phone is charging on his nightstand, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Until you see some movement out of the corner of your eye, and look down to see him asleep on the floor. He’s brought his pillows down with him, but he’s only got his coat to cover him. Leaning across the mattress, you reach down over the side of it to prod him. “Hey. Ralph. C’mon, get into bed.” He grunts, shaking his head around until his face is buried into the pillow. You tut and groan, “Fuck’s sake, I’m taking a shower and then going downstairs, so just… Stop being so bloody awkward and get some decent sleep, at least.”

Holding your head as you shake it, you clamber out of the bed and trundle your way into the bathroom. Poking at the remnants of last night’s face, you try and save as much of your skin’s condition as you can by taking a wipe to it before you get into the shower.

The shower takes far longer than usual, as if you’re not already running behind on your own schedule. As you watch the water run down your limbs, words echo in your head. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting. Tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! I’m just a -thing now. Tipping your head up, you let every stream of water punch you in the face, cleansing you of all the negativity that last night had left on you. 

Once you’re finally washed, dried and dressed, you don’t even bother checking if Ralph got into the bed before you go back downstairs. The friends that are awake so far greet you gingerly, and you groan, your face wincing. “Do you guys -”

“We’ve already agreed that we’re Switzerland here,” Connor interjects. “We don’t know your side. We barely know Ralph’s, he was a wreck.” You let out another small groan. “And it’s obviously very fresh so we won’t pry,” he holds his hands up.

“But, we are still here for the both of you, however you need us,” Scott nods.

You nod back, “’Preciate it, thanks. I was actually gonna ask if - I’ll happily take back anyone’s bags, to make room, but I was wondering if… Any of you had space, if you could… Take him home for me, I’d be super grateful.”

“He can come back with us,” Anna looks over at Scott and his partner, who both nod back.

“We’ll take care of him. Take the time you need,” Scott comforts you with a warm hug across the shoulders.

Once you hear one more person coming down the stairs, you feel your insides turn to lead in seconds. Grabbing some toast, you sneak your way through the ground floor rooms so that you can get back to the stairs without having to face him again.

Quickly filtering through the clothes in Ralph’s - your suitcase that he’s using, you can tell he’s gotten dressed for the day, so collecting his remainders and packing them, as well as your own, you get to loading up your car. Anna and the boys helpfully take their bags out, too, offering hugs and words of sympathy and gratitude.

“Ralph mentioned something about wanting to go somewhere before we leave, so we’ll probably be a bit late back, okay?” Anna tells you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod, “I think it’ll do me good to have some me time.”

“I do, too. Just don’t get too angry and do something stupid, ’kay?” Anna makes you promise and gives you one final hug before you head out onto the road.

As you set your phone up to start playing music for the drive home, you notice the notifications on your lock screen:

Missed call (12)

Voicemail (9)

With a heavy sigh, you leave them on the screen, at least until you get to a service station. After filling the car up, getting some snacks and a drink for the journey, and getting back on the road, you finally bite the bullet and start playing the voicemails through your car’s speaker:

“How dare you run out on me?! You didn’t even give me a fighting chance to truly say my piece, I thought that very unfair of you. Need I remind you that all of this is extremely new to me, not to mention completely terrifying?! Life as I know it is gone, and I don’t know when I can go back. How can you not see that from my point of view?!”

“I was only looking out for you, you know. It wasn’t proper, the way he was around you. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of meat, it was vulgar. And especially while you were under the influence of alcohol, how advantageous for him! What with you being so far from home, I was simply intervening to make sure you were safe!”

“And what on earth made you think that I see you as a replacement for my own mother?! For one thing, Mother never even did any of her own cooking or cleaning. I thought you were a friend. Friends don’t leave their friends stranded in loud places that they don’t know, half a hundred miles away from another place they don’t even know anymore!”

“Don’t you even worry yourself any further. As soon as we get back to London, I’m making it priority number one to go and find that old man and demanding he take me back to my own time again. I don’t care that he told you that it was random, I’ll sleep under the bridge with him for however long is needed if that’s what it takes to get me back to my home. That’s what you want, and so that’s what I’ll do. If I’m going to be an unwanted presence, I may as well do it in a time and a place that I know, where I have enough money to my name that people will at least pretend to like me without ever telling me they don’t!”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake here. I was getting upset and so I went outside for some fresh air, and then I wanted to go home too, but I can’t do that without money and so I started walking in the direction that I thought was the sea, but now I fear I’ve gone too far. I’m going to turn back. I hope I haven’t accidentally made any turns that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, what a fool I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid Ralph. Why am I even on the phone, it’s not like you can help me now. Or that you’d want to.”

“I’ve given up on walking now, I’m just sitting on the edge of the path. People keep dropping coins next to me. Perhaps those can be a consolation fee to you. Or perhaps this is how I earn my keep after all. Everybody pity poor, pathetic Ralph. Not enough to stop his father going through his staff as if our home doubled as a brothel, not enough to save his mother from the heartbreak of Father’s death. Not enough for Victoria to ever even consider me more than the social title we both held together being who we are. Not even enough to keep the only person who ever cared about me to stay.”

“Oh blast, what have I done? I don’t want to lose you. I - Just because I had promised myself that I wouldn’t repea- Gah, don’t do it, Ralph, this isn’t the proper way, stupid -”

“I realise that last message left quite abruptly. Connor found me and took me back to the bar and now we’re waiting for a taxi but I went to the toilet first. And I felt that feeling again when you look at yourself in the mirror and suddenly everything feels all wobbly. And I think I’ve said some very bad things that I can’t remember. But I do know I’m still mad at you, as well. I didn’t want to say any of those things, but you can’t deny you’re not responsible for this fight, too. I hope you’re sleeping well.”

“We are home now. Well, not home home but we are back at the house. I went up to the bedroom but you were already in the middle of the bed, fast asleep. I shan’t wake you, and I suppose I should learn my place at some point. I took the liberty of taking your phone out and putting the charger into it. I couldn’t tell you why I’m still leaving you these messages, I suppose I just… I’m upset with you, but also I want to talk to you, because you know better than anyone how to make me happier again. And I want to talk about all of this, but also I don’t know if that is such a good idea or it’ll just keep dragging this out. But won’t it be worse if we never do? Mother and Father never talked their problems out - not that we’re - oh, I give up.”

You’re not sure how you feel. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to shake Ralph by his shoulders, but you also want to hug him tightly and let that citrusy scent of his envelop you.

He’s right, though. You want to talk to him, but you also don’t. Because you know that the things you want to say, the things you could say to the Ralph you envision in your head, the real Ralph wouldn’t reply in the same way. He’d probably get defensive and you wouldn’t actually get anywhere because he’d get stubborn and you’d get upset. Or maybe he would hear you out. Maybe you’re just villainising him at the moment because of how fresh the wounds of last night are.

Even so, even if you do start to address every elephant in the room, how far do you allow that to unravel? Do you tell him the truth, that if you don’t spite him for his actions, you’ll only keep forgiving them if only because you can’t bear to think of life without him? Do you stand there and beg for him to never leave the 21st century, consequences be damned? Do you honestly believe your life is some kind of late-2000s rom-com movie?

The closer you get back to London, the more you dwell on certain parts of certain messages. Especially the part about Ralph deciding he’ll live the rest of his days in this era with Homeless Pete. Was he serious about that? You have most of his possessions either with you or back at the flat, but would he come back for them? Would there even be a point? No, you can’t imagine Ralph would last more than twenty minutes out there roughing it. 

But what if he doesn’t come back to you? What if one of your friends agrees to take him in, instead? You’re sure that your relationship with them wouldn’t change in the slightest, but you’re not certain that he would remain neutral. Would he feel too uncomfortable around you? Would there be a home amongst your friends’ that you would no longer be welcome in?

Maybe he is out of your life for good after this. Maybe he is just going to find somewhere else to live until the time machine lift fixes. Maybe going cold turkey is what you need. You were getting too ahead of yourself. And besides, even in a scenario where he really does have no choice but to return, it’s only a matter of time before all of this piles up again, and then you’re right back here. Is it worth putting yourself through this much turmoil time and again for something so fruitless?

But that insinuates that you’ve only ever been helping Ralph for your own ulterior motives. Ralph didn’t come to you seeking anything other than - well, he wasn’t seeking anything out, the poor guy just ended up here. But you happened to find him. And you took him in and gave him the roof over his head that he needed. You kept him fed and comfortable, is that not just something you’d do out of the kindness of your own heart? Is it really fair to turf him out because you can’t keep your feelings in check? Or is it fairer to cut him loose, and let him forge his own path with whomever he wants to, not just the first person he meets?

As you pull into the familiar busy streets of Croydon, you wonder just how far back Anna and the others are. Her last update, and Connor’s, all came at similar times, but where Connor was informing you all that he, Grace and her boyfriend were halfway there, Anna was texting to say they were just leaving Brighton.

Parking your car in its spot, you look up through your windscreen at the towering block of flats, resting your chin against your steering wheel. You know that everything’s just going to remind you of him in there, too. But where else could you go?

~~~

After one final trip to the beachfront, Ralph knew it was time to face the music. No hiding behind false smiles and fake words. Although, maybe he had ruined the chance at fixing things with words, even if they were true. Perhaps you’ll be truly sick of him. The way everyone always is.

Of course, nobody likes a self-pitiful fool. You’d made that abundantly clear last night. But what else is Ralph to do? It’s not wrong. He’s always been second fiddle. Never picked in classes, never favoured by his peers, never favoured by his parents, even the help were always far more charmed by Victoria than they were by him. And Ralph never understood why, he always tried to emulate his sister in every way, but that just wasn’t right, for some reason.

In the car, Anna suggests playing some songs that’ll make Ralph feel better. He agrees, and it does lift his spirits as he hears the familiar voice of his now-favourite singer, but the lyrics bring his mood straight back down again. He frowns, “I thought you said these songs would cheer me up.”

“I said they’d make you feel better,” Anna corrects. “Sometimes when you’re feeling sad, it’s better to just… I dunno, let someone else talk about how you’re feeling. Makes you feel less alone in it all. It’s cathartic.”

And so Ralph spends most of the car journey back in relative silence, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he argues with himself. What the devil is he supposed to do now?

Yes, he may have told you in the heat of the moment that he'd rather live with that awful man, and yes, in theory that does sound like the perfect solution - it gives you the closure from Ralph that you apparently want, as well as giving him direct access to the only person who can help… put him back. Those words pierce him, etching deeper into his brain every time he thinks them.

But, in reality? Ralph tries to remember the area that you’d taken him to when you’d first talked to that homeless man about how he’d ended up here. He remembers dirty people, dirty mattresses with little to no springs. No place for a Penbury, that’s for sure. Though is Ralph even one at this point?

What does he expect to happen when he goes back in time, back to Penbury House? You’d always encouraged him to tell Victoria to “shove it”, but how well would that be taken? Surely she’d just tell him the same thing and turf him out? She’d have more reason to, it’s been her place of residence and she’d surely have the other four on her side.

And did he want to win Lauren back? DId he want to come back with a bravado that she’d find attractive? Did he really want her to find him attractive anymore? Yes, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but she certainly made her intentions with him - or lack thereof - very well-known. Ralph looks in the mirror at Scott and his partner in the back seat, both chatting away as they hold hands. Lauren would never love Ralph like that. 

Scott’s reflection catches Ralph’s eye and raises his eyebrows in slight concern. Ralph simply nods with a small smile. He looks over at Anna, who’s singing along with the song that’s currently playing. She notices his gaze and briefly meets it, gesturing encouragingly as her singing becomes more deliberate. Though Ralph has yet to master lyrics to the songs he now likes, his smile does grow a little bigger as he moves his head from side to side in rhythm with the song. Anna, in turn, beams back at him before focusing on the road once again.

This is the sort of love Ralph always dreamt of having someday. Of course, there’s still more that he’d love to have. He’d love someone to wake up to every morning, to embrace and to kiss and to devote every waking moment to. Oh blast, this is his internal monologue, he can say it; he’d love to wake up to you every morning, to embrace you and to kiss you and to devote every waking moment to you. 

But this sort of love is just as important. Friends who check up on him, and who cheer him up. He’ll miss that once he’s back in his own era. Not that he’d be able to keep it up for much longer if he were to stick around. Your friends are loyal creatures, and you’ve known them for far longer. It would only hurt anyway if he were to stay and they were to pick you.

Though, who’s to say that they would? The words you’d told him days ago echo in his mind. If Ralph wants to be their friend, he has to believe that they want to be his friend, too. And they’ve only ever made him feel like he was part of the group, from the day they met him. Perhaps they’d be willing to remain in contact with Ralph even if you didn’t want to. But wouldn’t that split the group up? Or has Ralph been underestimating you, as a part of the friend group as well, and perhaps you would still remain friends with him after all of this. But could he face you after the things that were said?

And how would he explain himself? You’ve obviously got it in your head that Ralph only intervenes because he wants attention. Does he explain that he wants so much more than that? That he wants a whole life with you? What would be the point in disclosing that now, when obviously Ralph’s destiny would doom any sort of relationship between you. If he knew how long he had, perhaps he could simply keep those thoughts where they already remain, in his imagination. For the sake of the group, and for the sake of just getting to spend as much time around you as possible.

Is that self-destructive of Ralph? Maybe. But if he’s on borrowed time, what’s the use in wasting it? Doesn’t he deserve these fleeting moments of happiness, too? Even if he knows they’ll only end in disaster for him, it’s not as though he’s got a lot going for him, anyway

Before Ralph knows it, he’s starting to recognise certain streets. And then Anna’s stopping outside your block of flats. Ralph gets out, with gracious nods of thanks and grateful smiles to everyone in the car, and waves them off as they drive away. He looks up to the ninth floor windows, eyes squinting with the brightly lit clouds that overcast the late November sky.

Ralph takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He squares his shoulders up. His eyes still trained on the window he knows is yours, he once again inhales deeply, holds it for a second… And promptly turns on his heel and power-walks down the street.

He’s not sure where he’s going, wherever his legs take him, he supposes. He rounds a corner and is suddenly met by a very familiar face. “Ah! Mister… P-Peter, wasn’t it?” The man grunts and waves his hand from side to side. “You’re the one that brought me here, aren’t you?” The man studies Ralph’s face intently for a moment and then realisation dawns. He clicks his fingers as his eyes widen and he nods, and then before he can react, Homeless Pete grabs Ralph by the arm and leads him back to the building Ralph first emerged from almost 3 months ago.

Ralph looks through the open doors, to the carpeted floors that look unchanged from when he last walked them. The lift doors stare back at him ominously. “Are - are you bringing me here because… Is it time?” Despite the inevitability of this moment, a tidal wave of sadness crashes over Ralph. This is it. The man shrugs and nods. 

Ralph looks at him with sorrowful eyes, “Do you think I have time to say my goodbyes, at least?” Another shrug and a wrinkle of the nose bridge. Ralph is perplexed. “Well, how long have I got?” A shrug, a gesture to himself, a gesture to the lift. Until Mr Peter goes in himself, Ralph deduces. 

He ponders for a moment. “Do you - what would happen, would you say, if I were to… To not go back? Would it affect… You know?” Ralph gesticulates wildly around himself. With a fleeting amused smile, Homeless Pete shakes his head. He gestures to himself, then out to the left. Back to himself, and then out to the right. Another shrug. 

As Ralph’s trying to figure it out, Pete then taps his arm, holds up 4 fingers and looks at Ralph expectantly. He then points to the ground, and holds up the four fingers again. “Oh! Do you mean the four that travelled to us? L-Lauren and the rest?” The name still catches in his throat. Pete nods. He looks all around, in all directions. He shrugs at Ralph. “Do you think life is no different with them staying where they are?” Pete shakes his head.

Ralph could practically feel his brain doing somersaults trying to understand it all. So, perhaps there is a chance for him to stay, after all? But how on earth would that be feasible? He can't do anything that requires legal documentation - he could never get a job, or buy a house, or see a doctor, or travel the world, or get married. What if he became horrifically unwell? Which is the worse fate, to die a slow and physically painful death amongst friends, or a slow and emotionally painful death from a broken heart, all alone?

Even that rides upon the illusion that you and your friends would remain with Ralph until the end of his days. What if you never take him back? What if you do, but the cycle repeats itself until you leave him hung out to dry? While his lady friends are all good company, none of those are exactly chomping at the bit to talk to him. He’s usually the one that starts conversations with them. How could he expect any of them to put him up forevermore? He’d have to disclose the true nature of his existence to them eventually, and what if they took it poorly?

“Could I… Have some time to mull this over, please?” Ralph eventually asks. A grunt. Four fingers up. A point to the ground. “You would like to reconvene at 4pm?” A nod. “Very well, I shall return by 4pm promptly.”

Ralph turns away and starts walking in whatever direction he’s stopped at. He keeps walking, hoping to outrun the swarm of conflicting thoughts trying to consume his head, until he hits the high street. At the end of it, another familiar building. Far older than the rest. With a big black sign hanging off of the side wall that has a big white W on it.

Ralph approaches the bookstore as though his legs are moving him there automatically, completely independently from his own volition. He stops himself as he gets close, though - letting someone pass breaks him out of his trance. Watching so many people going in and out of his front door. He recognises a dark plaque by the side of it - it’s much too far away for Ralph to read it, but he doesn’t need to. He knows what it says by heart. Penbury House, est. 1898. It was a wedding present from Ralph’s maternal grandparents so that his parents may start a family. Oh, how his mother’s family loved that she were married to Lord Penbury. She was no lowly peasant herself, of course, but a Lord, no less!

Ralph always resented inheriting that title. It made him just like his father. And it was his father’s penchant for… Whatever he was doing with that young woman, that led to his untimely demise. A real stain on the Penbury name. If not for the twins turning their reputation around to being total carefree socialites, with free rein of a mansion, complete with the family wealth, and no parental guidance, they surely would have had no leg to stand on.

Taking another deep breath, Ralph marches past the old oak doors and into what was once his hallway. Cash registers adorn the hallway, along with a Customer Service desk right up at the front. Ralph approaches it and asks meekly, “Excuse me, do you know much of the history of this building?”

“Uhh, I know some super rich family owned it until the daughter blew all their money and it was repo’ed. Someone made it into a bookstore and then, big capitalism over here,” they gesture wildly with their arms, “Waterstone’s bought it out. As far as I know, they obviously didn’t keep any of the furniture but all of the walls and floors and that are restored as best they can be.”

Of course Victoria wasted all their family’s fortune away. With the help of those four, no doubt. Ralph wonders whether that means he really is needed back in his own era. To keep her from ruining the Penbury name. With a small nod of thanks to the staff member, he slowly starts to walk around the hallowed halls.

The dining area, filled with aisles of jigsaw puzzles and card games, like the ones he was playing with your friends over the past week. What a strangely apt crossover of Ralph’s two worlds, he thinks to himself. In the next room, there are craft supplies and children’s games all around it. Children run laps around their parents. What a strange sight to behold in a kitchen, though now it looks as though there was never a stove in it. The living area is absolutely chock-full of books. Piles and piles. “Best Selling”. “New In Stock”. “Booktok Finds”, whatever that means. There’s a couple on a book cover in a display titled “Modern Romance” who look a lot like a cartoon version of Scott and his partner. If he could, Ralph would have liked to buy them it.

He thinks back to the ukulele that Connor had bought him. Although he’d had no means of paying him back, Ralph had tried to insist on paying Connor back in some way, but he’d shrugged him off, insisting that it was “fine” and “’s just what mates do, innit?” No matter how much he racks his brain, Ralph can’t remember a time when anyone ever bought him a gift. On his birthday, he’d get presents for little boys, but not necessarily for Ralph. Footballs and train sets and toy soldiers. He had far more fun on Victoria’s rocking horse, or even games as simple as a hoop and stick, though running through the house with them always ended with harsh words and a harsher reception from his father’s cane.

The door leading out to the garage has a sign on it that says [Staff Only]. Clerks would walk in empty-handed and come out again with arms full. He assumes that’s where the inventory is kept.

He notices that there are people running up and down the stairs, and asks the very helpful clerk at the front if it’s okay to go up there. They tell him it is, and explain that there is a cordoned off area for staff only, but that there are plenty more books to be found, as well as some toilets if that’s what he’s looking for. He assures them that it isn’t, but he thanks them again regardless. 

Victoria’s quarters are now the staff quarters. The bathroom… Still serves some of its purposes. The master bedroom and his father’s office are all also filled with bookshelves. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, seeing all these people walk through rooms that even Ralph and Victoria were forbidden from, back in the day.

Which leaves one more room. Taking a moment to compose himself, he steps into what used to be his bedroom and is met with the most amazing smells. Sounds of china clinking against itself as cups find saucers. The gentle chatter of people sitting in what appears to be a small cafe. So many people in his space. Nothing to suggest it was ever the room he grew up in.

He’s stood by a counter, looking around while lost in thought, when the barista behind the counter gets his attention. “Everything okay, sir? Would you like anything?”

Ralph coughs out, “Oh, please, I’m no sir. Um, it’s fine, I haven’t… Brought any money with me or anything. Just here to look around.”

Nodding slowly while frowning, the barista steps away for a moment before returning and sliding a full cup of saucer his way. “Oh, no!” they say in a very deliberate tone. “I seem to have made this all wrong for one of my customers, and I would hate to waste it! Would you mind taking it off my hands, so my boss doesn’t see?”

Ralph looks perplexed. “But I just saw you - and how could you possibly go wrong with tea, you’ve not put any milk in yet or -”

They wave him off. “You look like you need it. Call it my good deed for the day. What milk should I “accidentally” put in?” They make air quotes with their fingers, which makes Ralph chuckle. 

He tells them which milk he’d prefer and they add it to his liking - “accidentally,” Ralph repeats the motions back to the barista who smiles back. “Should I tell others of your good deed, or do you wish for it to remain unknown?”

They grin widely. “Maybe no photos, but you can subtweet me if you like.”

Ralph frowns. “What’s a sub-tweet?”

“You can tweet about it without mentioning any specifics about me,” they explain. “Big fan, by the way.”

Ralph looks elated, but then his face falls. “Would - Are you going to ask me for a photo?”

“Oh god, no, I don’t think either of us are prepared for that! This chat’s been more than enough for me,” they smile at him once more before serving the next customer.

Ralph takes the cup with a warmth in his heart as he finds a free table that, once he’s sat at, is in the exact same placement as though he were sat at his own bed. He rubs his thumb back and forth across the rim of the cup, replaying that little conversation over and over. Being shown such a genuine act of kindness, with the person getting absolutely no personal gain from it, and within the walls of his own home, as well - sure, the people who wanted photos was flattering enough, but for once, someone just wanted to connect with Ralph. To validate that they didn’t think him an annoyance.

That gets him thinking yet again. About all of the times in this building he’s heard, “Not now, Ralph!” “For crying out loud, boy, will you stop?!” “Ugh, what is it now, hm?!” And about how he hasn’t heard a single utterance of any of those phrases since living with you. 

Maybe it was never Ralph that was annoying - you never made him feel that way, even at the beach when he was trying to help you find your rock. Every time Ralph tried to help, you were never unkind. Even when he would get too excited and hand you one that he’d already done before, you telling him, “You’ve already shown me that one!” was accompanied with laughter. What a sweet sound that was. Ralph misses it so. Even when the day’s excursion was unsuccessful because he got distracted playing with a child, you were completely unperturbed by it.

Maybe Ralph isn’t annoying. Maybe you were just the first selfless person out there who had the patience for him. Maybe…

Ralph shoves his hands into his coat pockets and feels around. He feels something large and leaves it be, and then feels something long and smooth. He takes out the photo reel of the two of you and looks at each photo. He’d have never been allowed to pose for any of the Penbury family portraits like this. Not even the soft smiles in the top one. The smile that looks so good on you. How could Ralph ever want to do anything other than make you feel like that all of the time?

As he sips his tea, his thumb absent-mindedly rubs over the bottom photo. Ralph couldn’t believe his luck, to feel your lips on his face. Of course, he had plenty more from the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t the same. How lucky Ralph was on that day. How happy the two of you were. He’d do anything to make sure you were that happy, again.

Anything.

He pockets the photos carefully, before finishing his tea in one big gulp, thanking the barista silently but profusely, and making his way out of Penbury House once more.

He wasn’t exactly expecting Homeless Pete to be waiting outside of the building the whole time, and so it’s a rather charming surprise to see him there still. Ralph stays back for a few moments, figuring out what his next words will be to Pete, since they’ll likely be the last he addresses them with. Once he’s decided, after several minutes of deliberating, he takes a deep breath and strides up to the other man.

“Mister Peter, after thinking long and hard about this, I have decided I wish to stay. I just feel as though I still have -”

Homeless Pete cuts him off with a grunt before turning around and shuffling into the building. Ralph frowns at the sight of the back of him. He was so looking forward to getting certain things off of his chest, and it was such a big decision to make, now it all feels rather anticlimactic. It’s rather underwhelming, if he’s being honest.

Turning back and walking down the high street, he sees what appears to be a costume store of sorts. There’s a suit jacket that Ralph rather likes the look of, but it’s paired with the most hideous colour combination. Looking around at the rest of the window display, he recognises the style of tasselled dress on the second mannequin with great familiarity, though something puzzles him about the display. There’s a board on it that specifically states, “Party like it’s 1922”, but these colours were not in season at all! What an amateur display of affairs. The only thing that remains true to that year are the trousers of the suit, but again, the top half is all wrong.

Ralph does spot something on the rack behind that looks like it would go well, though. And he’s strangely taking this display very personally. Once again working on autopilot, he marches into the store and promptly starts stripping down the suited mannequin. Finding a more appropriate shirt and tie to go along with the outfit he’s designing in his head, he starts muttering nonsensically to himself under his breath. 

He doesn’t notice the store clerk, who’s been watching him with amazed confusion at the sheer audacity of his actions, creeping up to him until they ask, “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, heavens!” Ralph yelps before letting a laugh bubble out from his lips. “Made me jump. No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine as I am!”

“…Right.” They slowly back away into a back room, out of Ralph’s perception. Not that he was watching, anyway, he’s on the lookout for a dress that complements his new suit layout far better.

Just as he’s pulling the dress over the mannequin’s head - blindly, as he has his head turned away from it and his eyes squeezed shut, for good measure - an older woman with a kindly face approaches him. “Hello there, love. Did my employee’s window display offend you, by any chance?” she asks in a Cockney accent.

“Oh!” Another yelp causes him to jump up on the spot. “You’re a sneaky pair, aren’t you! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s awfully rude of me, but you see… The colour palette was all too wrong for the year 1922 anyway, and even then, nothing really complemented each other. I just thought this looked more cohesive, and… Honestly, I’ve no idea what came over me, the more I stand here the more of an utter fool I feel for being so inappropriate, I truly hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t, I shall leave immediately,” he hangs his head as he rambles, but the woman pats his arm.

“Chatty li’ul thing, int’cha?” She grins. “Name’s Florence, but don’t call me that, everyone calls me Babs. Always have since I were a kid.” She provides no further context, which Ralph tries not to dwell on as she continues, “Look, ’ere’s the fing, I ain’t the spring chicken I used to be, and I’ve been lookin’ for a fresh pair o’ hands. You seem to have an eye for this sorta fing. Fancy a job ’ere?”

Ralph’s eyes widen. “Oh, I, um, I can’t - I’m not… resgistered with any… Banks, you see,” he scrambles to think of a decent excuse, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers curling in and stretching out.

Babs, however, screeches out a cackle. “Oh, ain’t you a - ’ere, in’t he a crack-up?” She asks the person behind the counter, who nods without looking up, with the air of someone very used to Babs’ personality. “You and me, darlin’, we’re one and the same. I don’t trust them toffs at the bank, neither! They want my money, they can prise it out me cold, dead hands! That’s why I pay cash in hand, sweed’art, all I ask is you show up a few days a week and I’ll pay ya for ’em. How’s that sound?”

A job with no ties to needing any sort of administration? Sounds too good to be true. But Ralph doesn’t care in this moment. “Oh, Ms. Babs, this really does solve such a gaping issue for me, you have no idea how indebted I am, thank you so very much,” he gushes as he shakes her hand enthusiastically.

She laughs, “Calm it, Kermit, I’ve already ’ad an ’ip replaced, I’d like to keep both me ’ands if I can ’elp it!” Ralph lets go as though she’s electrocuted him, which only makes her laugh more. “Go on, away wiv ya. See ya Monday, 9 sharp! We’ll talk shop more then. And you can drop that Ms malarkey, an’ all!”

Ralph smiles and bows at her, then at the other clerk, then at Babs again, who waves him away with a warm smile. Turning on his heel, Ralph’s filled with a confidence he’s never felt before as he strides back down the high street. Perhaps he could do it all. Perhaps he could even tell you how he truly feels about you.

Or, once the tower block comes into view, he could freeze up entirely at the thought. How presumptuous of him, to assume you’d reciprocate. Ralph would be lucky if you were to talk to him again after last night’s display. And what would he even say to you? Is it worth all of the mental energy to plan a whole monologue in advance, or would you simply repeat the other man’s actions, and slam the door in his face before he got the chance to say his piece?

Taking a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists up, he finally marches his way into the building, pressing the call button for the lift with such force that the arrow imprints in the pad of his thumb. As he’s waiting for it to come down, a familiar sound from behind him surprises him, as he turns to face whoever caused it.

~~~

Once you’re in your flat, wrestling both your bag and the suitcase into the lift with you and practically juggling them as you try to unlock your door, you take Ralph’s stuff and quickly throw it all into the bedroom, shutting the door and metaphorically shutting everything to do with Ralph in there. Except this had been his home for the last 3 months, so everything everywhere reminds you of him. Shaking your head, you go to your bag, throw everything that isn’t clothing out of it and take it out to the launderette with you. Keep out of the house, keep busy. Just until your mind stops swimming.

You watch your clothes spin around in the soapy water and wish you could do the same to your brain. What do you do with Ralph? Do you forgive him? Do you not? Do you seek his forgiveness? What if he doesn’t forgive you? 

You’re still very sure that your anger was valid. But perhaps not all of it was justified. You’ve been putting an awful lot of emotional weight on the idea of Ralph. Imagining him as the perfect boyfriend, and then trying to see the worst in him to combat those feelings. That doesn’t sound like someone with a winning argument in the real world.

Something about not having the security of having Ralph safe at home has you feeling a sense of numbness. Time passes without you even noticing. You’re not doing anything to help it along. Just sitting, staring, pondering.

Once you’re back home, you check the time and frown. Based on the time Anna said she was leaving, she should have been back well before now. You text:

Panicking, you then text the group:

Pacing the flat, your mind races more than ever. What if he’s hurt? Or worse? Or what if H.P’s found him because the time machine’s finally working now? What if he’s just walking the streets because he doesn’t want to return home? What if he really is living with the vagrants? What if he’s just doing all of this to make you panic over him? Truly, anything’s possible. Truly. He’s even in your head, now.

You look out through your window, uselessly from this high up. You know your friends said that you should stay at the flat, and it makes sense, in case he does come back. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s lost? What if you need to be out there?

No. You’re useless to him and to your friends if your mind’s frazzled. You try asking your Echo if it can play you some music before remembering that a certain someone rendered it useless to you. You try and flick through your TV options but none of them are a worthy distraction.

After some frantic cleaning, you swear you’re starting to hear voices. Who else would be talking out in the hallway? Could it be? But who would he be talking to?

You press your ear to the door and pure relief washes over you as you hear the sweet, familiar tone of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Running to grab your phone, you hurriedly text them to call off the search before swinging the door open.

“- dunno how the fuck she even got out, let alone all the way down there."

"Must have been the stairs, though it would be rather humorous if she learned how to operate the lift all by herself, wouldn't it?" Ralph chortles. Fuck, you've missed the sound of his laugh, and it's only been a day.

"Alright, look who's here!" Your neighbour cheers as they see you. They're standing in their open doorway, while Ralph is in the hall cradling Cheese the cat. Quickly, while his eyes haven't met yours yet, you snap a picture of Ralph holding his feline friend to send as a quick update to the group.

When Ralph looks around to see you, his eyes immediately fill with delight, then remorse, then excitement, then dejection, finally settling on looking at you with intent to gauge your reaction. Your neighbour, oblivious, continues, "Literally, mate, I owe you so much for finding her. Name your price."

"Oh, nonsense, just knowing she's safe and home is reward enough for me," Ralph scratches her just beneath her jaw as he rocks her like a baby, to which she purrs loud enough for even you to hear. The same cat who you'd had to being out of hiding before by standing in the doorway and throwing ham into your neighbour's flat until she came out to eat it.

"Well, if you think of anything, you let me know. I just hope nobody told the big man that they saw a cat walking around when we're not meant to have them," your neighbour grimaces.

"Ahh, if I catch wind of any grasses, I'll sort them out," you smirk before turning to Ralph again. "Ready to go?"

Ralph's big doe eyes bore into yours as he nods, gently putting the cat down and then quickly making his way back into your flat.

"He's a good'un really, isn't he?" Your neighbour simpers.

Watching him go, your wistful smile remains even as you look back at your neighbour. "Yeah. Remember what I told you when you first met him? Harmless."

"Yeah, yeah. You would think that," they smile knowingly. Narrowing your eyes, confused, you simply wave them off and go back through your door

Ralph seems to have shut himself in your room. You feel as though he's probably got a reason why he wants to avoid you, and there's many a thing you don't want to hear from him, either. But you've felt a fraction of what it would be like to lose him and that alone was torturous. Every time you felt bad all day, you only wanted to talk to Ralph. Now that you finally have the opportunity to, you're not going to waste it. Just remember to rein it in.

You knock on the door. You step back. He opens it. You exchange similar looks of curiosity, but something about him being here and in front of you overpowers you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to hug him tightly. His arms snake around your sides, and you feel his hands splay out against your back and press into it. It’s a hug that says it all. It apologises and it forgives, a crossover of exchanges between you. He smells like coffee shops and second-hand smoke, but the familiar scent of Ralph still remains as you bury your face into him.

When he pulls away from you, it’s to hold you at arm’s length with a gleeful glint in his eye. “I’ve got some news for you.”

Your heart sinks. Surely, anything that’s good for him that’s happened over the course of today can’t be good for you. But you wouldn’t be a good friend if you weren’t supportive. So you put on a smile and ask, “Oh, yeah?”

“I’ve got a job!” he singsongs, skipping on the spot. You look at him incredulously, and he explains. “It’s a bespoke costume store, run by this… Rather eccentric character, and it pays cash in hand! So I can earn some money and pay you back!”

You rub your face. “Look, Ralph, when I said those things -”

“That was a justified cause for concern, and I wish to rectify it. I, myself, said things that I did mean and things that I didn’t. But I don’t think it’ll do us good to talk about that too much.”

“I don’t either,” you smile back. “I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Though, what about when… You know… Lift’s back in service?”

Ralph pauses. Does he tell you that he's willing to take the risk and stay as long as he can? Would you trust Homeless Pete as a reliable source or would you assume Ralph was stupid for doing so? He feels far too fragile to have another argument. And so he simply shrugs, "Then I shall have to do some awful things very quickly to ensure I'd never be welcomed!"

You laugh loudly, "Ralph!" and he grins back at you.

"Oh, and before I take this coat off…" he starts, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"Ah, yeah, we can put that reel on the fridge!” You grin, but Ralph shakes his head.

“Well, yes, but also… Um, well, I had noticed that due to my incessant bothering, you’d, um, forgotten to actually pick out a stone from the beach,” Ralph starts.

You interrupt him with a groan, slapping your forehead with the heel of your hand. “Oh my god, I forgot my cool rock this year!”

“W-well, I went back earlier this morning - goodness, was it only this morning?” Ralph asks under his breath. “Anyway, um, I know this is… Probably… A very easy shape to mistake a rock to be, but I didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf and so…” You look down, and in the palm of Ralph’s hand sits a stone that’s in a near-perfect heart shape.

“Oh, Ralphie,” you gush, pressing your hand to your chest. Even after everything last night, he still went out of his way to find that for you. If he hadn’t clarified that it was merely an easy shape to find, you’d have questioned the nature of it specifically, but he had, so there’s no need to look deeper into it. You have your answer.

“Well, I just thought even though it might not have been worthy enough for you to have picked, you still get to keep your tradition this year,” he explains hurriedly. “I know it’s just a circle with a dent in it, but -”

“But it came from you, and it’s unique to the shelf, so it’s absolutely living there,” you insist, pushing his fingers to curl up around the smooth stone and holding his hand there for a few beats. Not wanting to linger too long, you snap back and clear your throat. “Why not put it on there, I’ll order us a takeaway, and we’ll find something trashy to put on, yeah?” Ralph nods meekly and you practically float over to the sofa, you’re that happy to just have your Ralph back, for however long that may be.

“Oh, hey, good news and bad-ish news on your front,” you shout to him in the other room. “Good news is, everyone seems to be over making their icons the photo of you flapping about microwaving the egg!”

He frowns as he pops back into view. “And the bad?”

You show him the sea of icons, all Ralph, all wearing a polo shirt, all stood behind the painting that hangs on the back wall, all with a rose in his mouth. “I think they’ve found your Tinder.”

Ralph groans as he approaches the sofa to sit down next to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. You don't feel the need to move it as you pick out a movie you think Ralph will like. "Here, this one's good," you point out. "It's another musical, you like those."

"I do!" Ralph lilts excitedly. "What's it all about?"

"Okay, so in the seventies, there was this insanely popular group of singers called ABBA..."

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

[ingravinoveritas]

Theres a tumblr blog on here who has seen the entirety of s2 before release and they said this:

“If David and Michael didn't have wives I would have assumed they'd fucked at some point during filming because their chemistry is seriously unreal

the amount of sexual tension is fucking insane, y'all have no idea what you're in for”

I immediately thought of you cos wooooow

Oh, my, Anon. Well, I do think I know the blog you're referring to, though I won't link to it/the post lest people run across any spoilers they are not looking for. But that statement doesn't surprise me one bit, though it is absolutely delicious to have that confirmation of what so many of us already suspected.

On a few points, I will note that they actually don't both have wives, as Anna is Michael's girlfriend, but they are not married. It seems to be a common assumption, however, but it is interesting that after four years and two kids, there doesn't appear to be any sign of a ring. I don't particularly think that that would stop Michael anyway, given his past predilections and the number of times we know he's dated/hooked up with/fallen in love with co-stars (Rachel McAdams, Kate Beckinsale, lots of rumors about Lizzy Caplan, even though I'm not certain that was ever confirmed).

The chemistry and sexual tension between Michael and David has been evident and incredibly powerful since the first season of GO, so I would not be at all surprised if they have fucked--likely multiple times, and likely long before now. This also ties into what I just discussed in my response to another Anon, about the possibility of a polyamorous arrangement between Michael, David, and Georgia. (I do not believe AL has ever been part of this arrangement, however, and I still do not think she is, for numerous reasons that I've cited previously on my blog.)

I wanted to end my reply here with a gif or picture of one of the countless moments of Michael and David giving "just had sex" energy, but I find myself going back to one particular moment from four years ago. One moment that probably most people wrote off as a joke, but that now seems to have been a forerunner to all that we've gotten since from Michael, David, and Georgia in the form of truth disguised as a joke:

How does that old saying go? "When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time." And I absolutely believe that if Michael and David are lovers (and have been for a while), that is exactly what we'll see play out with their dynamic on screen in GO season 2. I truly can't wait to see it...

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #high profile friendship #low profile lovers #very very married #tell me again that they're not a couple #the way they've been shamelessly flirting with each other for four years is a pretty damn big hint #can't wait to watch #ineffable lovers #discourse

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part six | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become close friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - swearing, use of y/n, BOYS (no smut… for now lol)

word count - 1k ??

NOT PROOFREAD

-

i drove to the date with carson after getting ready on facetime with chris. the whole drive my hands were sweaty and my head was just racing with what could go wrong. he thinks im ugly, he hates my clothes, doesnt like my personality, he ends up being mean, makes fun of me, doesnt even like me. i was completely going insane on the drive to the dinner date.

we settled on eating at our local dinner grill that serves really casual food but has a great romantic atmosphere. at least those were chris’ words.

i arrived safely by the grace of god, sat in my car to collect myself and finally got out. i walked into the grill and saw carson sitting down at a table and he smiled and waved at me. i made my way over and he got up, “hey y/n!” he said pulling out my chair for me. “oh thank you, and hello to you too.” i replied with a warm smile as i sat down.

“so, chris set us up.” he chuckles, “yeah, lets not talk about chris tonight.” i state. “i agree tonight is about us, just two kids that have gone to the same school for their entire lives and never spoke a word to each other.” he breathes.

“what?” i question

“you seriously dont know? y/n we went to elementary school together.” he chuckles.

“i know, i just thought you never recognized or noticed me.” i smile. “i always noticed you but you have always hungout with that friend of yours, anna. she is scary to me, very opinionated that girl is.” he explains. “anna can definitely be intimidating but she has been my friend for as long as i can remember.” i huff.

“well yeah she scares away a lot of boys from you. no guys at our school really like her.” i say. “what ar-“ im cut off by our waiter.

“hello im savy i will be your server for tonight what can i get started for you?” she says.

carson and i order our food and i continue.

“what do you mean no boys like anna, i mean she’s constantly talking to guys.”

“ever notice she only talks to guys from other schools?” he says. wow he made a great point.

“i never thought you were like her, you always seemed so sweet.” he says. “thank you, i try.” i mumble. “i know our date isnt over or i guess it hasnt even started, but would you consider going on another one?” he asks.

“honestly, yes.”

-

the rest of the date actually went amazing, carson was sweet, respectful, funny and actually wanted me. after we got our food he payed for everything and we spent the rest of the night walking around town and talking about random stuff. he made me laugh all night and walked me back to my car which was at the restaurant. talking to him didnt feel difficult. everything went smoothly and i felt really comfortable with him which was especially surprising as it was our first time speaking.

i left the date with hope and a smile on my face, and i couldnt wait to tell chris.

-

the following day i immediately face timed chris to tell him everything.

ring. ring. ri-

he finally answered, “kid its to fucking early whats wrong?” he huffs slightly squinting his eyes since he had just woken up. “chris is 12pm you should be awake anyway.” i blankly state. “anyway i wanted to tell you about last night!” i smile.

“oh yeah, how did your date go with carson.” he asks. “it actually went amazing, we had dinner, we talked, we went for a walk after dinner, he pulled out my chair for me and even opened the car door for me.” i explain grinning ear to ear.

“did he wipe your face while he fed you as well.” he mocks. i just do a blank expression as he chuckles proudly to himself, “im joking y/n, im glad everything went well. i told you everything would work out, you were stressed out over nothing the whole time.” he says. “i know, i have you to thank for everything you really gave me confidence to do this.” i say as i get out of my bed to go brush my teeth. “thats the magic of chris sturniolo.” he breathes rolling over on his bed.

“yes nick im talking to y/n give me a minute here.”

“hi y/n!!!” nick screams from the other end of the phone. “hey nick, good morning.” i say. “how did your date with carson go?” nick asks, “really good and chris im going to kill you.” i say as i told chris not to tell anyone that i was going on a date. “sorry kid cant keep a secret from my brother.” he says.

i grab my toothbrush and run it under water before grabbing toothpaste rinsing the brush once more and start scrubbing my teeth. i hear chris breathing on the other end of the phone as he taps on it while i finish brushing my teeth. “hey what progress have you made with anna, neither of you have talked to me about it.” i question walking towards my bedroom.

“oh not much really we have just been texting and kissed a few times.” he says and i pause.

“what the fuck? you guys kissed and didnt even tell me.” i exclaim.

hearing that your best friend and your crush have kissed more than once is absolutely crushing to hear.

“yeah its nothing he just went out for a drive a few times and have just kissed and talked, nothing crazy yet.” he says with almost no expression. “you dont sound that happy for someone who was begging me to set you two up.” i reply. “i didnt beg you and i am happy about it but we are getting along and work well together.” he says yawning after.

listening to him explain that he likes her and that they get along really well should make me happy for my best friends but i cant help the bitter taste in my mouth. i dont know if that makes me selfish but it just makes my stomach turn.

“well thats good and everything but i have to go chris.” i say. “ok kid ill give ya more updates later.” he breathes. “later?” i ask. “yeah matt, nick and i are doing a movie night and they both asked for you so if you have plans cancel them cause i already told them your invited.” he says.

“what the fuck, ok fine.” i reply. “k see ya.” he says before hanging up.

-

i drove over to chris’ house in a way better mood than i was when i hung up the phone. i enjoy his brothers company and it actually made me happy to hear they wanted me around more. i walk up to the front door which i havent seen since i was drunk and couldnt walk and knock on the door.

i hear foot steps coming up to the door and am greeted with matt when it opens. “glad to see you could walk up the stairs this time.” he chuckles, i roll my eyes and brush past him. “wheres chris?” i ask, “he just got out of the shower he should be down in a-“ matt is interrupted “im here im here.” chris says running down the stairs. i admire him in his wet hair look and his comfy outfit. i love his hair wet.

“what does everyone wanna watch?” chris asks and he plops down on the couch. “why dont we watch a scary movie or something” chris suggests. “chris you know that were all pussies that cant watch scary movies right?” matt says “lets just watch batman or something.” both chris and matt look at nick to plead with their suggestions “dont look at me ask y/n!” nick exclaims putting his hands up. all of them turn to me “i already watched the batman movies with anna so-” i mumble. “HAH” chris yells getting up and walking over to me. “this is why your my favourite” he says grabbing my face leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek and then sitting back down.

i freeze as i was caught off guard by him kissing me and stare at chris who is patting the seat next to him. i slowly walk over and sit next to him on the couch.

after shuffling through netflix we decided on the conjuring since none of us had seen it and we all got comfortable and started watching the movie.

normally i would be dying inside to watch a scary movie sitting next to chris but right now it was possibly the last thing i wanted to do considering the circumstances. i literally have to watch a scary movie sitting next to my friend who happens to be the guy i am practically in love with who also happens to be my best friends next possible boyfriend. this is going to be a long night.

-

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo