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werezmastarbucks · 8 months

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kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship

(actually, a story I am too lazy to write, but which is just clear and palpable in my head)

• you meet him three times

warnings: violence, manipulation, underage relationships (no grooming), mentions of dissecting frogs, abuse (duh), toxic relationship, unpleasant and traumatic first sex, the OC is kinda very, very human and stupid, exactly as a fifteen year old girl should be. School shooting obv. Also, it's ve-e-ery long, but I'm really not in the mood of writing a book here, so, it's just bullet points. Sorry.

author's note: yes! I watched We need to talk about Kevin around 2014, actually. It seems, considering the nature of this whole blog, I've always had the hots for the worst kind of guys. Enjoy my sublimation!

it was so long I had to divide it into two parts. second part

• you're at the same school, and Kevin is closed, brooding and completely antisocial. You constantly see him smile when there's a fight. He never participates in scuffles but seems to observe people; the other half of the time, he just doesn't care about his surrounding at all. Seemingly

• you've been raised to sympathize with the outcasts, reading all the right books and youself, not being the most popular, the smartest or the most beautiful

• at the biology class, you flat out refuse to dissect a frog. You can't stand the sight of dead animals, to say nothing about cutting them with a freaking knife. You close your eyes and shake your head aggressively, while the teacher is getting angry with your childish stubborness

• until you feel that someone is standing next to you. Kevin says 'she doesn't want to cut the frog' assertively, and takes it to his desk. He doesn't look at you a second, but it feels like a momentary salvation

• you're thinking of thanking him; that seems like a nice thing considering he's never talking to people, and always having lunch alone. He has this loner allure, the misunderstood poet, the lone wolf, if you will. You're fifteen.

• your friends tell you 'are you nuts? he's the cat in the bag'

• there are all kinds of rumors about Kevin; about strangling someone as a joke, and swearing, and watching gore.

• "I didn't do it for you", he smiles, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you misunderstood the incident so badly that it's funny and totally makes you look like an idiot. "I just like to dissect frogs". But he looks at you so intensely that it tells you something more.

• he never goes to PE

• Kevin is bullied from time to time; he doesn't really react to it, like the other children don't even exist. He never replies to nasty remarks, but just watches them, head tilted forward, like a dog ready to bite.

• you wonder why nobody else is worried about this gaze.

• sometimes you catch him watching you during classes as if he's contemplating something. You think yourself some kind of sacred redeemer, not less. You don't look away, you don't realize you're getting yourself into a swamp. You're fifteen

• at one occasion you tell Kevin he doesn't need to be alone all the time, and there are nice people at school who would accept him

• he just grins at everything you say

• the same guy who bullies Kevin the most acrtively, or is trying to, steals your folder containing some notes, your journal and you photo album. He doesn't admit it but laughs in a way that makes it clear

• you go to the teacher, to the principal, but the conversations do nothing to that guy. He's just a bully, just a dumb jock who has very little thought behind his forehead. You're worried; he might not know, but your personal diary is in that folder.

• you confront him with the fists swaying, to no avail

• the next morning, Kevin walks by your desk and throws the folder, complete with everything, in front of you. You watch his back, wondering when he had got it, and whether he had read your diary. One of the entires was about him, and it was embarrassing.

• "he's tall; taller than the other boys. His face is like milk, but he has this pitch-black hair and vampire stare thing going on. He is always quiet, just watches people. He's reeeeeally good-looking, but damn, Khatchadourian might just be nuts like people say"

• your friends wisely advise you not to get involved with him, but you feel so special all of a sudden

• you start fantasizing about being the only girl at school who managed to get through to him

• as you talk, he notices your desire to be special, and uses it. He observes you with your friends, focuses his laser attention on your grades, tries to get into what makes up your world.

• soon, he manages to make you feel like you really are the one person he reacts to. It is incredibly funny to him. He deems you fuckable.

• he's attacking someone in the yard. The guys from the parallel were getting the best out of Kevin, and rightfully so. This time he's had enough. When it's just talking, he didn't care, but physical assault, he couldn't tolerate, because that was crossing his personal borders. So, when one of the boys tried to steal his backpack, Kevin took out a razor he carried with him

• you try to stop the fight and get in between them just in time to shield the other boy, and Kevin slices your arm across

• the boys run away horrified, and Kevin just stands there, disappointed and dark.

• he evaluates the situation, sees that the cut is pretty deep, and watches the gushes of blood leaving your arm. The first seconds you're silent with shock; then it dies down, and you start feeling pain and yelp.

• he cuts off a piece of his shirt and bandages your arm tightly, saying nothing, just lasers you with his glance. The sight of this wound on you, not unlike his own scar, even in the same spot, accidentally. He finds it curious, invigorating. He watches the expression of physical pain on your face and brings you to the medic's office, saying "I sliced her". It feels good to say that.

• there's a conversation at the principal office. You're quiet, he's almost pleased with himself. His excuse is, I was going for another person ¯_(ツ)_/¯

• he gets away with it. You notice his dad dotes on him, and is absolutely blind to anything Kevin does. He buys the legend of 'I brought it for biology class, because I'm used to working with my own instruments' so easily it's astonishing.

• you don't speak for a while, and Kevin doesn't say sorry. He doesn't look guilty and is equally unimpressed that other students start to avoid him even more

• but his presence is like an oil stain, you can't avoid looking. You want to get to the bottom of him, you actively put yourself in this situation. You're fifteen, edgy, you have a crush on the sexy strange bad guy.

• you catch him after classes and tell him, whatever you're feeling, you don't have to. There are good people, that are worthy of your time. You don't mean yourself, but you're trying to make him defrost a little

• for some reason, the topic of feelings triggers him, and he does the thing he would repeat several times. He gets angry, standing right in your face, hovering over with his height. He puts his face as close as possible to yours and tries to make you pee yourself.

• "how the fuck would you know how I feel? What do you know about how I feel? Tell me, how can a person like you know anything about me?"

• he doesn't apologize for slicing you because he knows he didn't mean it, hense, there's no reason to say sorry. But he sees the prospect of playing with you, and he's so bored. So, he thinks about what a normal person would do in his place. ?

• once, you go to your locker and inside, find a little bunch of field flowers, neatly tied together with a yellow thread. No note, but somehow you have ideas what it means.

• you go on to a party in one of your classmates' house. You still rock a tight bandage on your arm. The party is good. You see Kevin and he looks at you like he wants to talk. You think, this is just like one of those vampire stories. You evade your watchful friends who think you dumb for playing a heroine from the Vampire Diaries. You need to grow up, they say

• you go outside in the terrace and sit down. You drink and ask why Kevin isn't drinking

• "I never drink. It dulls the concentration"

• you tell him that what he said sounds like 'I'm not like all of you idiots'. He confirms that's the gist of most of what he says. You ask if he considers you dumb, too. Biting his tongue, he avoids replying, saying that you're 'nice'

• you keep drinking, feeling the need to master up some bravery in his presence. For what, you don't know. Finally you ask him about how he feels, since he got so angry when you assumed

• surprisingly, Kevin says,

• "angry, bored most of the time. I guess it makes me angry how boring everything is. And dumb. Sitting there at school for six hours every day to do what exactly? It's like torture"

• it's a good thing he found a toy to play with.

• he tells you about his mother, and how she broke his arm when he was little, for shitting himself, on purpose. You talk about mums, and fathers, and how you don't have a very good relationship with your parents. Kevin finds it very interesting. You tell him how your mum mostly ignores your existence because she's more preoccupied with the shattering marriage with your dad, and your dad, finds you annoying and 'too girly'. He tells you about his little sister who is so annoying, and she constantly jumps around him and nags on him. You try to explain that a little girl sees that her brother is big, and strong, and pretty, and is forming a bond. He gives one of the worst performances, but it grills you

• "Pretty?" with a suggesting smile.

• you kiss, mostly because you're drunk, and you both think about each other's background.

• you think how tragic it is, that a boy like Kevin doesn't get the love from the person a child needs the most. Think about his mum, imagine her looking at baby Kevin with hatred and disgust. No wonder he is growing up to be this unapologetic, menacing, edgy guy who brings razor to school and takes it out on others.

• you're partially wrong

• Kevin thinks about how you have daddy issues and feel unloved, unneeded, mediocre

• although everybody at school knows that Kevin Khatchadourian had cut your arm in a violent fashion, the literature teacher pairs you for a half-year assignment. You're supposed to prepare a one-hundred pages analysis of the book of your choice, complete with the presentation.

• you're actually down to such tasks as you can ramble about your favorite books for ages, but you're not sure how it'll work out with Kevin. Casual friendship, if you can call it that, is strange and non-regular; sometimes he ignores you completely in the corridors, sometimes he starts talking about history, and awful things like Unit 731, out of nowhere.

• the first time you assembled to work on the paper was at the library, and it was pretty uneventuful; even boring a little. Kevin was not in the mood, and didn't talk much, and then, after an hour and a half said he was bored, and just left.

• you remembered the kiss from the party, but Kevin acted like nothing happened. Every time, though, when you almost decided he had played you, it was like he read your thoughts, and appeared to reinforce hope in you.

• he suggested you should go to his house at the weekend, and spend the day working on the paper. His family will be away as they usually do, so

• a gut feeling told you not to go, and you really listened to it, refusing the offer. Kevin smiled with his special smile that was like blood and honey, that was very difficult to resist

• "you think I'll do something awful to you?" "Will you?"

• he had a habit of speaking more with his eyes than with his mouth. One of the reasons you were so drawn to him was, he seemed adult, on the inside. Sometimes he said things you didn't expect to hear from a fifteen-year old.

• "Only if you ask".

• you skipped this weekend, and Kevin refused to go to the library, saying he had some things to do after school. But you were free to work on the project alone, of course.

• after a week more you caved in and agreed to go to his place. The whole week he was being uncharacteristically neat, friendly and pleasant. You saw him smile at teachers and even say hi to someone from class. You wondered if he had other friends you didn't know about.

• Kevin had a massive, cool home. Both his parents were rich, but you wouldn't tell it by looking at him act. You were amazed at the interior: artsy, light, with interesting living room and shapes on the walls. Kevin was bored, unimpressed by your interest. He was slacking, stretching time not to get to work that was clearly dull to him; he showed you the bathroom, and his parents bedroom (which made you uncomfortable). As he went downstairs to make tea that he almost forced you to have, you washed your hands in the bathroom on the second floor. Going down towards the stairs, you passed his room with the door open. A song you liked very much played on his computer. You wondered.

• on the wall, you saw the picture of the family. Kevin was smiling like the happiest boy ever, and it looked like a person from another world. His parents, blonde and dark-haired, were so different. The dad, whom Kevin described as 'the dumbest creature I've met', smiled carelessly, totally satisfied with the day. His mom, on the other hand, looked exhausted. The deep dark eyes, like Kevin's, didn't have half of demonic suggestion in them, but she looked weary. She smiled like a person who was wise, and had a death wish. His little sister 'that perfect little princess who never does anything wrong', whom Kevin clearly had very mixed feelings about, had only one eye.

• while having tea in the kitchen, you asked him about his sister.

• "Oh, yeah, it happened a while ago. She poured solvent into her own eye. Mum left the bottle on the table in the open". "Why would she do that?" you were horrified, painting a picture in your head. "Well, kids are dumb", he said so nonchalantly that it sent shivers down your spine. You could understand not liking a younger, more adored sibling, but talking about how they got a disability in such an unaffected way...

• Kevin added "I was there, with her. I called the ambulance. It was go-o-ory". And he smiled.

• you had the intention of working in the living room - light, spacious, with a broad sofa and a huge coffee table. Kevin insisted that he needed to work on his laptop and it was uncomfortable to bend over the little table. You needed to go to his bedroom. Eventually, you agreed, so now, you were sitting elbow to elbow at his desk, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body.

• the first thing you noticed about his room was how minimalistic and boring it was. Nothing on the walls, clean, tidy, impersonal. The only thing on display was a wooden bow, placed against the wall, and a stack of red-feathered arrows, beautiful, hanging above.

• "Wow, do you do archery?" He was unphased, like it was a totally usual hobby. "Yeah". Whatever tickles the rich people's bum, you thought.

• Fifteen minutes into project your phone lit up. Kevin asked who's messaging you and you said it was your common classmate, Paul, who is your good friend. Kevin knew your - your common - surrounding, so he knew that Paul was a good guy, and a good friend, and also had an innocent teenage crush on you.

• "Let me see", he grabbed the phone from your hand and stretched out his arm so that you wouldn't reach. It turned into a game. You both laughed, and giggled, as you tried to get to your phone. It was half-serious, playful 'hey, don't be a jerk!' and him, watching you reach for the phone helplessly. He then threw it on his bed and, as you raced after it, gave you a little push, and you fell.

• Kevin managed to create that feeling of comfort. As he landed next to you on his bed, he pretended not to see your unease. "Come on, let me see. You know I'm nosy". You sighed, deciding that there was nothing incriminating in messages between two friends. After all, there was nothing but memes and schedule discussion in your chat. Kevin scrolled it, giggling, discussing other classmates, and soon, you were snuggled against each other, talking about everything. You showed him your gallery on the phone and he grilled you for the insane amount of pictures of Damon Salvatore.

• "Come on. Come on now, you know they manufacture those dreamy characters specifically with the accordance to the desirable image for teenage girls. They cater specifically to you, and you buy it".

• "I know! But you haven't watched it".

• A long silence with growing smiles on both sides decided the destiny of that evening. You watched the show together, bonding, discussing, talking about how stupid everything is, and how the vampiric lore cannot possibly be depicted perfectly in any movie you've seen.

• he felt so normal, so human, so warm, that you were drunk on love. You felt safe, entertained, enfatuated. You thought to yourself that maybe, this whole thing about Kevin being different, and dangerous, was a front. After all, he had to protect himself, he hadn't gotten any love at home, and he didn't really know how to act around people. You felt appreciated, understood, wholesome.

• it was already dark when you've finished watching the sixth episode, and you were both a little sleepy. As the episode was over, the screen got darker, and you realized that there was barely any light. Kevin was silent beside you; you heard him breathe calmly, but you could tell he's looking at you. Like a snake aiming for your throat and waiting for the right moment.

• as you were about to say something to discharge the situation, your phone rang. It was your mum, checking on you, and you confessed you hadn't gone through with the paper at all. You explained how boring it was, and that the whole day, you drank tea, or talked, or watched the show. She laughed at it and told you not to stay the night. Maybe she did love you after all.

• "My mum", you explained, as the light from the phone died out, as well. "She's worried about you?" "Just checking". "Checking what?" You didn't find what to say here. "Doesn't your mum check on you when you're late and not home?" "No. Usually, I'm the threat".

• somehow, you were kissing. It felt exhilarating. Scary, amazing and fast. You didn't notice how twenty minutes have gone buy, completely taken by the intensity of it. I'm in his bed, you thought, and he's kissing me. The prettiest boy in school, and the most interesting. The rest were boring, you thought, and realized, this thing you had in common. You thought majority of people, even some of your friends, boring. Kevin was the only one who made you look.

• as he went for your thighs, you shivered. "I'm not ready". "Ready for what?" he asked, jokingly. Constantly dismissing your words, as if he always wanted you to speak clearly and not mumble behind the metaphors. "I'm scared, I'm a virgin". Kevin gave you a long look. "Who hurt you?" he immediately assumed there was some dark reason for your fright. Reality was, "Nobody. I'm fifteen, I'm afraid".

• you made him promise he won't force you to anything. Even the fact that you had to make him give you his word should've been a sign. Kissing him, and making out, was the best thing that happened to you the whole year though.

• Paul was strangely cold, even rude to you the last days. Every time you tried to bring up something funny to him, he dismissed you and made himself scarce almost instantly. You could feel, although Kevin didn't openly follow you, that he watched you, like before. Sometimes you had the urge to ask him the banal 'what are we?'

• you approached him in between classes to ask what he's done to Paul.

• he wouldn't tell you 'I confronted him in the bathroom and put my razor right to his throat, making him understand who you belong to; I pushed it so hard it actually left a mark on his Adam's apple. Must have hurt. He looked like a scared puppy. I told him not to text you anymore and not to look in your direction. He ran so fast you could tell he would be a great cast for the Flash'

• he said, "Oh, I spoke to him. You were clearly annoyed by his advances, or was I wrong?" You were annoyed when you talked about it at his place. You lamented your friendship and said you found it irritateing that every guy you were actively friends with, started to fall for you.

• you didn't believe he just 'spoke' to him. You tried to call for the good in him again, but when it didn't work, decided to threat.

• "Don't do the things you'll regret later, Kevin". You tried to walk away, but he put himself between you and the whole world, hovering again, his face as close as possible. His eyes, the eyes of a snake, cold, black, menacing, asked you.

• "What things?" "You know what I'm talking about". "No, I don't. Say it". He dared you. You wanted to say 'violent things'. You remembered his face, full of cold rage, as he swung the razor at that guy in the yard. You looked at his face now, changed from the peaceful everyday mask he always wore, and suddenly it hit you. He was psychopathic. There was no other way he would be so unaffected by things, then jumping into sudden fury, then pleasant and sociable the next moment. He could stand like this for hours, it seemed, burning you down with his trying stare as if he was forcing you to show what you're worth.

• your friend broke this intense exchange by exclaiming, "wow. Get a room?" her voice was casually laughing, like, ha-ha, I'm mocking a PDA. But when you looked at her, her face was expressing concern. Her eyes didn't laugh and were fixed on you. Kevin slowly focused on her with a slight smile and then walked away, saying nothing.

• he stalked you, although you didn't know about it. Listened to your conversations, hiding in the bathroom, and stole your phone for a lesson, and then returned it into your tote bag, making you think you're absent-minded. You were entertainment to him, a goal to reach, with no prizes. He was deciding what to do with you after, in spring.

• the other weekend that you spent working on paper, the Khatchadourian house was full. The previous one, his mum and his sister were away in the countryside, and his dad worked. Now the whole family was at home, and Kevin wasn't really happy.

• his mom was excessively happy to see you, shaking your hand, and giving you a motherly hug. You read in her face that she was glad that her son was socialising.

• his dad was a big booming guy with the lumberjack energy.

• his little sister was a little angel: silky pearl hair, nice little face, only one eye. She was airy, happy, unspoiled. She was everything Kevin wasn't. He stood at the top of the stairs as his stunningly normal family swarmed you. His sister was looking at you curiously, considering the new concept: his brother's friend. She has never encountered that before. You took her little hand and something horrible stung your temples, almost like a vision. Kevin smiling with his absent, self-pleasing smile as she was on the kitchen floor, her eye bubbling, sizzling, blood and goo coming out.

• Kevin lost his patience and ran downstairs, took your hand and led you away from them, giving his mum a certain look. He refused to be served lemonade, and snacks, he just wanted to be left alone with you.

• as you entered the room, he locked the door, and you started making out immediately. The thought of his parents at home made him almost blind with excitement.

• you collapsed on the bed, kissing, rubbing against each other, panting. You were very wet, for the first time in your life for a real person. It was exalting, to desire something so much and get it immediately, to be desired back.

• he caresses the scar on your arm and kisses it. You take it as his way to finally say sorry.

• you don't know that he's never felt sorry, for anything, in his life. That he's calculating, cold, that he is only happy when it's physical satisfaction because all other is imitation. He's like a robot and he feels like a robot. To try to feel something, he used to watch the hardest porn he could find, the trashiest, goriest movies, he watched the nsfw news where the pieces of humans, chunks of meat and bones, were shown; he went to the dark web and watched snuff, and it made him feel nothing. The closest to happiness he felt when he was mildly entertained or cumming; and you were entertaining, for all the possible things he could do to you; and you almost let him cum.

• but you weren't ready for sex yet and, remembering the word he had given to you, he backed up. Building the tension was good for the eventual climax, and he would break you, he knew that, by the way you whimpered when he rubbed against you and kissed your neck.

• you finally had sex at the party once. Closer to spring, when the spirits were lifted. You snuck away from your friends who have half-way accepted that you were spending time with Kevin. You went upstairs and locked yourselves in someone's bedroom; you had been drinking for bravery because you knew what was coming. You wanted it, but you didn't know what to expect; maybe Kevin had a dragon in his pants for all you knew.

• he wasn't soft, but he was cutting the pain short. He made you feel hurt and kissed you tenderly the next second not to let you retaliate. At first, you just had to whitstand the pain, thinking it was normal. That's how it happens for the first time: the feeling of something tearing, and blood, and razor sharp pain. You were very aroused and very drunk, so even the pain ceased soon, and it was actually almost good.

• you went to the bathroom to clean yourself and cried, you didn't know why. Not like you now were a different person. You emerged, talking about the sad state of your makeup, and the room was empty.

• Kevin was downstairs chatting with a girl you didn't know, and when you tugged on his sleeve, he gave you a blind look, like he was seeing you for the first time. He was done with you, the look said. He didn't even smile anymore; he just looked tired, like you intervened in a mildly entertaining experience.

• for the rest of the month you were crushed. You didn't talk about it with friends: in fact, you lied to them that you had an argument with Kevin and never had sex. You were so ashamed to be a victim of such a simple, banal, everyday scam. You were now seeing him for what he was. Just a guy with the looks who was bored.

• you completely forgot about the project, it just came to a halt by itself

• you started alienating yourself from your friends, which wasn't too hard

• you started having lunch alone, and going to classes alone, too.

• you spent a lot of time thinking about the damn dress you wore at a party, as if it was the root of all evil that happened

• you were wallowing in the feeling of betrayal, the impotent desire to crash his face with a hammer. You were brokenhearted, being dragged down from the heavens of being special right to the pits of being played.

• after weeks of mourning your naivity, and your pure feelings for him, your past wish to awaken something good in Kevin, you felt so idiotic, perhaps even more idiotic than the stupidest person in this school. You were a laughing stock for your own self. Your pride was crushed, and your heart was broken.

• eventually you thought, well, it's schooltime. A lot of girls experience this. Maybe in fifteen years' time it will all seem like a minor failure and a useful lesson.

• right? In fifteen years?

• in the beginning of May, Kevin suddenly sat at your table at the closing of lunch. After weeks of literally no communication, dismissive, slightly surprised glances when you happened to be in his eye sight spot, he suddenly reappeared.

• "You didn't tell your friends even? Will you let me get away with it after all?"

• you looked at his face drawn with curiosity and laughter. He was laughing at you. His boyish, demonic beauty was now poisoned with the ugliness of his insides. Earlier, he was like a rare animal from the northern mountains, that was so evasive it seemed like treasure. He was mysterious, impeccable. Too good for you. Now, it was the handsomness of a used mannequin, with the paint faded. Too much blood in the smile.

• "What do you want, Kevin?"

• it's been moments after a short exchange that you felt rage in you. The rage you've been fostering this whole month. You stood up from the table and swung your arm with enthusiasm, and then landed your closed fist on his cheekbone.

• Kevin's reaction was slow, horrifying. In his eyes, you saw the immediate danger to your whole life. He didn't say anything as he rose from the chair, and you noticed his eyes scanning the yard. What if someone witnessed the punch?

• you tried to hit him again, on the shoulder, but he caught your hand, and suddenly, crushing pain sliced through your wrist. He was much stronger than you.

• this time, he approached you so decisively that for a second your only instinct was to fly, but your hand was caught up in his fist. Really, you got scared of him.

• "Never do that again", he said, as his hand took you by the back of your neck. He tilted your head back to look straight into your face, and all the possible trauma made you see the allure again. Yes, he was still laughably attractive, without even trying. He was just a walking trap, and all of your good intentions for him had just been horny.

• "Or I will snap your neck and forget about you in a second".

• the punch was good; a scarlett spot was forming on the side of his face. You were afraid to move because you could feel your wrist on the point of breaking. Such sharp pain, the third time in nine months, and the source of it, again, was Kevin.

• "Say you're sorry"

• "I'm sorry", you whimpered, "that you're such a monster who's unable to love, Kevin".

• you got ready to deal with the broken wrist and closed your eyes, expecting anything. He let go of you. "Love is a big word for you".

• you didn't know how jealous he was of Damon Salvatore.

• as the school year was drawing to an end, the school team started rehearsing

• the rehearsals were always fun; although you never even thought of getting into the cheerleaders, and you had exactly the amount of interest in basketball to understand what's going on.

• it was fun because the team consisted of all the people you knew; there was a lot of students you had good relationship with; the cheerleaders were all very easy going girls, and beautiful, at that. It wasn't like in the Mean Girls.

• and the spectators always brought pizza, or some snacks, to entertain themselves during the long, repetitive rehearsals. You liked to visit them because it was better than hanging out at home with your dysfunctional family.

• the last rehearsals were held in the evening of the 8th of April.

• as you sat there, you vaguely remembered, randomly, that it was to be Kevin's birthday soon; maybe in a week, or less. You pretended not to care, pretended to yourself.

• closer to the end of rehearsal, as people started leaving, your best friend, the one who was concerned about Kevin and even put herself in the position between you, said that her boyfriend had messaged her. She had to leave. You said goodbye and decided to wait for the end. Looking at the girls was mesmerizing; the way they did the combinations and screamed the chants. You thought it was very cool to be a cheerleader; but you weren't tall, or nimble, or beautiful enough.

• the main door was locked from the outside; probably the strings have gone bad again, and the entrance has been deemed a no go. So, your friend circled around the hall a little, tugging the doors with surprise. Finally, she found one working exit and left. As she was leaving, Khatchadourian walked into her, or rather, they ran into each other.

• "Leaving already?" he asked, with a smile. She said nothing and walked away.

• Kevin locked the door behind her. She turned around, puzzled, because her brain hadn't registered at once that Kevin was carrying a stack of arrows with him.

• As he started shooting his classmates, the swarm of people was lifted up, like an avalanche, and started making it for the entrance. The doors were locked. He repositioned, climbing up the spectator's rows, and finally had the perfect spot. From above, in the bunch of people, he saw you.

• you wondered, as all the noise left your brain, and the pale circles started pulsating in your eyes, why you didn't know earlier.

• in the moments he was swinging for someone's throat, or when he was threatening you, or when his face dropped the smile by the snap of the fingers. How do you even foresee something like that?

• you watched his face, a grimace of hatred, not indifferent anymore. He was aiming with his bare teeth, wallowing in every cry of the people he shot; the sound of arrows was almost comforting, whistling around like a seagull that passes over you quietly. Among the roar of the hall, the sound of arrows was so calming and so loud.

• you tried to group yourself, to make yourself smaller, because there were actually very few people left; seven or nine, in fact. But there was nowhere to run. Macey Walken, who ran for the side entrance, got a scarlet arrow into her back, and fell suddenly as if something pulled her. You looked at the floor, into a pool of someone's blood. Kevin was walking down carefully, between the seats, sending the arrows with accurate aim. He didn't even look like a human anymore; it was hard to describe him.

• he neutralized the three teachers first, then went for the students. Paul died in the other side of the hall in his purple and gold uniform. The cheerleader girls were running in circles, in zigzags, clearly entertaining him, moving targets. Kevin now almost approached the last group of five people, where you sat on the floor, numb with scream that never left your mouth, your legs paralyzed completely. He was killing you all one by one, from left to right. Ben, Mary, Meredith. Finally, the bow and arrow were turned towards you, mechanically.

• Kevin pulled the string and then relaxed it, keeping the arrow to himself, and moved on.

• you did manage to become the special girl after all.

#ezra miller imagine #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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netherfeildren · 1 year

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Masterlist:

Updates Blog : Follow and turn on notifications for new writing! All works are 18+

Fear of God : Joel Miller x OFC

Summary : What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.

-OR-

Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the love of your life?

-OR-

A Joel infidelity AU

The Cassandra Complex : Ongoing : Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: Enter: A man who is not so much a man, but an effigy, a wound of steel and armor and Creed – secrecy and masked faces, above all else.

Enter: A girl who is not a girl, but a creature helmed in darkness and spit out unto the galaxy broken and unmoored.

Enter: the creation of myth.

-OR-

the mandalorian / dark sider au

Pink : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The story of a son who won’t love you, and his father, who will.

-OR-

the father-in-law AU

Honey, Stomach, Mine : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Existence is a needful thing. Choice is fickle, nature inescapable. Run to the end of the world, Joel, all those things will still find you.

She'll still come for you.

-OR-

the A/B/O outbreak AU

One Shots :

bétteln : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary : You really want Joel to give you a baby. You don’t really care what he has to say about it.

biéten : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary : Now that you have his baby in you, you’re Joel’s most special girl.

Kiss, Kiss, Kill, Kill! : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is a long haul truck driver. One day he finds a pretty girl in a diner and decides he’d like to keep her.

Murder and sex ensue!

Greener Memories of Better Men : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

Joel Miller is one of them.

-OR-

Sarah’s gone and Joel wants to feel close to her again. He reconnects with someone he used to know along the way.

I urge you: Bite me : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes love hurts like a split nail, and sometimes we like it like that.

Sometimes Joel hurts like a split nail, you like him like that too.

With Mercy for the Disturbed : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: He's a father and then he isn't, and then he's in the perfect place with the perfect girl, and he's done so many bad things that terrify the both of them. And then, finally, he's saved and there are dancing bears and doors newly opened, and everyone's a little mad at the end of it all.

-OR-

the Hannibal/Alice in Wonderland AU wherein Joel loses his mind

Evermore : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The Thanksgiving AU

Meet Me in the New Year : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The New Year’s Eve AU

10:05 PM : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is exhausted, you’re there to make him feel better.

How to Endure Ardor : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

At the Restaurant : Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Forfeiting My Mystique : Ezra x F!Reader

Summary: You're a girl made of golden gossamer, a work of art come to life, and Ezra, well, he's dedicated his life to collecting beautiful things.

-OR-

An Ezra Art Collector AU

Austerlitz : Simon (Ghost) Riley x F!Reader

Summary: The day he left for his hideous war, the dream changed. The house was still there, but now neither of us lived in it anymore. And when he finally came back, if that’s what you could even call it, he was nothing but a Ghost.

-OR-

Ghost goes away, comes back in a maybe dream.

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dazedvivenne · 3 months

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REQUEST ARE OPEN!!!

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

I currently write for

Rafe Cameron

Kevin Khatchadourian

Henry Bowers

Patrick Hockstetter

Donnie Darko

Bill skarsgard (characters + him)

Drew Starkey (+ Any other character of his)

Negan Smith

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker

James Patrick March

Kai Anderson

Kyle Spencer

Darry Jenner

IF you have someone specific in your mind, request it and I will try my best to write it!

WHAT DO I WRITE?

Literally everything, I have to no limits so go crazy.

Please go request something about your favourite character <3

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just1riqht · 2 years

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my stepmom got ezra miller and finn wolfhard mixed up so she thought finn wolfhard attacked someone in hawaii with a chair

#finn wolfhard #stranger things #Netflix #stranger things 4 #tv #television #movies #x reader #imagines #fanfiction #ezra miller #justice league

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starvingmedievalpeasant · 7 months

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Hello Kevin Nation, I would appreciate if you could perhaps send me asks (could be anon too!) with ideas/requests for more written work on him and a reader insert surrounding the same AU my fic Using You For Pleasure is written in, I can do imagines or headcanons or if I like the concept enough maybe turn it into a oneshot.

I won't write scat/pregnancy (breeding is ok)/Incest (Might write stepcest) Feel free to ask about other fetishes if you're not sure.

I only write afab reader inserts (cis women,enbies,trans men) as I am not confident in my ability of writing cis men or specifc intricacies of the transfem experience.

Do note that unless you mention any specifics personality traits or gender identity in your request I will default to the reader insert from Using You For Pleasure.

Thank you!

#we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #wnttak #ezra miller #ezramiller #imagine #headcanon

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mattzerella-sticks · 2 years

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I'mma be honest -

Dylan O'Brien as Barry Allen's Flash? 😍

Dylan O'Brien replacing Ezra Miller and being that Barry Allen? 🤔😗

Dylan O'Brien being the Flash for the Reeves-verse? 🤯

#dc comics #dceu #dylan o'brien #ezra miller #listen i don't think ezra miller should stay the flash any more than the next person after a lot of the stuff that's happened #but i also just don't care for how barry allen was written in the snyderverse #and i know theyre taking it in a new direction but at this point i'd rather they make the flash they focus on wally west #because that WAS the flash they were going for in the snyderverse #however i am also in the camp that dylan o'brien being barry allen would be perfect #sorry to all you dylan nightwing truthers lol #but imagine rpatz batman and dylan's flash?#i would combust #batman #flash #batflash #of course #i will push my batflash agenda at any time lol

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theamazingannie · 2 years

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Just saw someone say they’re not going to use Ezra Miller’s preferred pronouns (they/them) because they’re a bad person so as a friendly reminder don’t do that :))))

#imagine being like #‘It’s okay to be a bigot when they’re a bad person’#same energy as people who say racist things during video games cuz it’s just a game #orrrr maybe you’re using this as an excuse to not have to respect people’s identities #ezra miller

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youreonyourown-kid · 11 months

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I saw the Flash trailer before Across the Spider-verse and it was kinda wierd cause the first trailer released I was like 'oh no I kinda wanna see it' but this trailer idk it felt really off for some reason and it looked like just another super hero movie and I'm back to not caring and wondering why they would risk so much to back this on person and I hope it flops

#flash #ezra miller #there are only like 4 good dc movies and 3 of them had nothing to do with the extended universe #birds of prey did but like just barely it was way more self contained and all the better for it #like i know the answer is money #but the way so many dc movies have flopped and that on top of bad press i cant imagine this movie doing well

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roseisbeautiful · 9 months

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Barry Allen with a Goth gf:

Barry allen x F!reader

Warning:I'm not good at english. Tons of fluff, kissing and making out

He was scared to talk to you at first. People made rumors of you so he sort of believed it.

That was until he interacted with you and he thought you were fun and much more nicer than most people he'd met in the university.

He started to think you were beautiful with or without your make up.

He knows your black clothes were a lot to handle for people who thought you were a freak, everytime he would try to defend you.

He literally thinks you're a whole goddess.

He loves kissing you and he loves it when you kiss him because black lipstick just gets stuck on him.

You make out a lot anywhere even, but you don't do it infront of people ofcourse. He likes to take control of the kissing but not in bed.

Sometimes when you wake up next to each other he thinks you're like a black cat and somehow he just starts playing with his hair

When you found out about his abilities you were really amazed and sort of used it for certain advantages.

Sometimes you'd use it to get groceries faster or sometimes you get him to clean in the last minute cause both of you are tired.

But that doesn't mean you want to tire him out just because he's a speedy, you still treat him how you used to treat him

All tho you guys don't want to have children you both have fur-babies for you is a cat doesn't matter what breed but for Barry its a golden retriever.

He is rather a little spoon

He likes your hugs

If you are a short person but wears platforms, Barry is concerned because how is your feet doing? Does it hurt for you? Are you tired?

He constantly reminds you to drink water because you forget sometimes

You watch Elvira or Beetle juice together, see he can't really watch a lot of gothic movies because it isn't really in his level of fun. But he still tries for you tho!

You try to make him listen to gothic music as well but he just can't like it. He likes pop more or rock! He just isn't a big fan of what you like. He still tries to listen to it with you, so don't get mad at him😔😔

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This is shit I'm so sorry I was bored😔😔

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#ezra miller #kevin khatchadourian #we need to talk about kevin #the flash #ezra miller imagine #barry allen #dceu #batman #gotham #x reader #fanfic

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werezmastarbucks · 8 months

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kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship pt 2

first part

warnings: mutual abuse, mentions of school shooting, folie a deux, mentions of stalking, mentions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, living with trauma, otherwise it's fun! also, Kevin gets way more jail time while I'm captaining this ship

• Kevin got a reduced sentence, because at the time of the shooting he was just three days shy of sixteen

• that shows that he was calculating from the beginning to the end. Moreover, he calculated exactly how much time it would take him to fuck you, and he managed to do it even with some spare time left

• the headlines screamed of despair. You heard that Kevin had killed his father and his little sister - that angelic, innocent, happy girl, before going to school

• there were many times when you asked yourself why he spared you

• but there were now other things to think about. Like, how you were supposed to go on living now. Your own little grudge about that night at the party dissipated and became a minor failure even before the calendar year was out.

• you heard his mum sold the house and moved away on the outskirts of the city. She didn't leave the town though, because at first, Kevin was held at the local facility for minors.

• even you got your share of hatred, to say nothing about his mother.

• the police investigated you mildly, because you were the only survivor in the massacre. They quickly understood you hadn't conspired with Kevin. But people didn't care.

• very soon, you moved away and left the town, and school, behind you.

• five years of therapy, contemplation, heartache, spent with total lack of comprehension of what had transpired. Weeks turned into months as you went into a frenzy, sitting in your room, staring at the walls, trying to find your place in this story.

• you were recalling all of the moments you spent with him, one by one, trying to find the second he snapped. You remembered how you marveled at the beautiful stack of arrows on his wall. Just like Robin Hood's.

• five years of therapy, and self-reflexion. And then, when you were twenty years old, you decided to google his name for the first time in all that time.

• "I don't know why I did it: Kevin Khatchadourian, school shooter with a bow, has been transferred to the adult prison". An article from three years ago. There was a lot of news about him, a lot of pictures of Kevin. Him in his orange costume, hair cut short, and he looked like a disgraced puppy, lost. He was almost nothing without his magical poetic hair.

• one of the videos from court displayed him crying, hiding his face in his hands. You knew these tears were nothing but an act; just a thing everybody expected, or maybe, he wanted to try, and see if the reaction would be to his benefit.

• "The Robin Hood school shooter feels remorse, apologizes to families"

• there were even articles about you, though, in fewer numbers. Still, some theories that you helped Kevin to lock the hall; or that you were his sex toy that he had mercy on. As you went deeper on the internet, there were even accusations of satanism and demonology.

• through the news articles you watched Kevin grow. He turned seventeen, eighteen, then, his hair grew a little. Today, he was being fried in the adult prison. Very soon, there was another school shooting in the same state, so everybody forgot about Kevin Khatchadourian. Plus, he killed so few people; just seven. Weak. Reading this number, every time all these five years, you were taken aback. The whole ordeal felt like it lasted at least an hour. You were seeing everything in slow motion

• the truth was, every time you closed your eyes, for the longest time after, you started seeing Kevin's distorted face. As he grinned with hatred while he was killing your classmates. Little tiger cubs make that face when they learn to roar.

• the latest pictures of him were from the last year; he was a young man of twenty now. His black slick hair brushed back, bruises on his cheekbones. He was a broken man, the light dull in his eyes. Only in the corners of his mouth, there was the old Kevin. The Kevin who laughed at dumb people.

• sooner or later it was inevitable that you started asking yourself questions you couldn't answer. Could I have prevented it? To what degree has he been using me? Why did he spare me? Not like he cared about me? In his eyes, as he looked at me in the yard, there was nothing but resentment.

• you went to see him in prison, thinking about how you looked to someone who hadn't seen you in years. Thinking about your classmates who didn't get to be twenty, nineteen, throwing hats in the air, buying cars, traveling the world.

• all your unrequitted loving, and the dark undulgence, the sense of being the chosen one aside, you thought of those teenagers they used to be and stayed forever, and you wished to be in their place. Because then, you wouldn't have to see Kevin again.

• he looked worn out, but wild in a way, the same pitch-black hair, the same empty stare. Only, it became completely hollow now. His eyes only lit up for a secons when he saw you entering the room.

• you trembled with the realization that this person on front of you, behind the glass, killed seven people you knew, and was now smiling to you. A grown-up cougar. Unaffected, bored, like your coming was a matter-of-fact occurrence.

• his first question was what took you so long. He thought you'd run with lectures and commeuppances ages ago.

• his face sported a split eyebrow, there was a bruise on his forehead. His cheekbone was cut, it seemed, some time ago already, and a pink scar made his perfect fucking face asymmetrical.

• "Did you get beaten up?" you asked. He replied that he had got into a fight. His knuckles were torn to shreds almost, it was unpleasant to look at them; his skin was pale, pulled over his skull. Black circles around the eyes told you he didn't sleep well. He looked ever more like a vampire. The unpleasant kind, not like from the Vampire Diaries.

• he tried to ask you again, why you didn't visit him earlier. His mum was the only one, he said, who ever came, besides the lawyers and the journalists. You scoffed at it and left it without the answer. His eyes were palpating you, examining. His mouth slightly agape. He hasn't seen a woman, you thought, except his mother, for a very long time.

• "I came to ask you one question", you said, and Kevin made the face of annoyance. You went on anyway. "Why did you kill my friends?" He mocked you. Why did he do it. If only you knew how many people came here and sat in your place, and asked the same stupid question. Have you people no imagination nor consciousness to bore him with that? Like he knew. "Because I could", he spat out, "because I wanted to, and I had the means. Because I was annoyed with those people, and they made me irritated. What reasons do you want? I have no idea why I fucking did it; to piss you off? To make you spend five fucking selfish years thinking about why I fucking did it".

• you were not impressed. You didn't expect a fifteen year old narcissist to comprehend his own actions completely.

• "Why did you spare me then?" He shrugged.

• "Because you were nice to me".

• "I punched you in the face".

• he shrugged again like it didn't matter. But it did matter to him back then.

• you're like a robot, you said, you're not supposed to feel anything for a girl who you fucked and threw out like a sock with dry cum. You're a machine and you shouldn't feel anything. It irritated Kevin, this comparison with an inanimate object. Truth was, you were trying to get to his core, to hurt him as bad as you could, to see if he's still alive at all.

• "What's your point?" why didn't you kill me with the rest of them?

• he clutched the phone and rolled his eyes like you were asking the stupidest possible questions. His eyes then drifted down to your chest, where, propped against the glass, was your arm with an old, long scar from the razor.

• "Why, you have a death wish now?" he whispered. A familiar lustful smile was curling his lips. You noticed another scar on his lip, from someone's fist. It must be tough for the pretty boy here at prison. You wondered if the inmates were afraid of him.

• "I could organise it, you know". You realized he almost never, if ever, called you by your name. At all, as if it didn't exist. You wondered if he even knew your name at all.

• "You can't, you're in prison. You're a rat behind the glass. Do you understand, Kevin, that some of the parents of my dead friends, killed themselves years later?"

• he swayed his head with a question, like, what's he have to do with this information?

• "And", you panted now, "all because of one angry boy, and you're... it's the lack of grey matter in your brain poless, Kevin. You're a psychopath. And it's not good, do you understand, you're less than others. You're a little bit less of a human than the rest of us".

• finally, you saw the look of indignation on him. It was rage and disgust, but so quiet that his face just elongated, like a cat's. He was silent, burying you with his stare.

• "We all need one thing, Kevin. All of us. But you can't have it. It is inaccessible to you. That's why you did it".

• Kevin's nostrils were flaring. You put down the phone and stood up to leave. You could hear him scream through the glass. You caught him right by the balls. He was so smart, so, so intelligent unlike all these dumb people. But he couldn't guess what you meant. All these years he'd been searching for the answer, and it was just out of his reach.

• "What? What is it? What is it? What is it, Y/N?"

• he got fifteen years, actually. So, he was out when he was thirty. Still very young, all life to live. He pretended a lot in prison to get the appeal, but he was never granted it. Still, just fifteen years, and then he was out.

• you haven't seen him for ten years.

• the 8th of April was shifting further and further from you. Watching all the school shooting happening in the country was strange. Like almost each of them seemed a next chapter to you, like you were supposed to puzzle them all in, into one coherent picture. You changed jobs, you got in and out of relationships, none of which stuck. You didn't talk with your best friend from school, you drifted apart. You moved out and lived alone, acquiring lonely hobbies and observing people.

• the short visit to prison to see Kevin left a bleak impression of frustration. The memory of losing your virginity to him seemed like a minor failure still. You remembered that night very vividly, and now all of the time you were spending with him, was very clear to you.

• looking back, you saw the manipulation and hot and cold approach he practiced on you. You were something of a practice dummy for him. You could travel back in time and stand there next to yourself on the porch of someone's house and watch yourself kiss him for the first time. You could see him now, from a great angle, how he trapped you in his cobweb. How his eyes were never warm or loving, or even interested, but always calculating, measuring. He always looked at you, you realized, as if he was trying to guess your height for a coffin.

• you've never thought of the life 'after'. In your mind, the fifteen years of prison were eternal. You thought it was the period of time during which you would kill yourself

• you tried to learn everything about ASPD as if it could help you in anyway to deal with what had happened.

• the year when he got released, you only learned about it from the news.

• "Kevin Khatchadourian, the Robin Hood shooter, to be released this May". The article reminisced of the tragedy, and speculated on whether fifteen years have shaken Kevin enough for him to become a good boy. Kevin, it said, had gotten a pretty good rehabilitation back in the minor facility, and very rarely was in trouble at prison. He was an excellent inmate, obedient, friendly and very active at the workshops. He worked at the hospital wing and cared for other inmates. You wondered how many people he made die slowly and painfully, getting high on the power he had over them.

• not immediately did it shake you to reality: Kevin was now about to be free in two months. You tried not to stress about it too much. He didn't give a shit about you. Not then, not now. The therapy groups organized specifically for his victims and the families gathered that spring more often than usual. You weren't accepted there, weren't welcome. They couldn't forgive you for surviving.

• a week after his release you noticed Kevin on the other side of the street as you left for work in the morning. You didn't much care and ignored him. But the sight of him was something to think about. His hair was now long, almost to his shoulders. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and even from across the street you could see his warning eyes.

• you were careful not to get any pets or close friends. It wasn't a problem before, and it wasn't now.

• you cut yourself sometimes, and now started to do it more often - every time you caught yourself thinking, finally he's out.

• you've never gone to a proper doctor, only had therapy for five years, which you quit after visiting him in prison. It was all useless, you thought, because I still want him, and even more now. Everything that's happened to you shaped you into this creature of guilt and need.

• but also rage.

• he once held you by the throat and aimed an arrow at you, and since then, you barely felt fear, like someoned switched it off.

• Kevin came to your place. You tried to shut the door into his face, but he caught it. Close up, you could see his face, thin and pale with the lack of sun.

• he wanted to talk to you. Like adults.

• he said that no, you were never that special, but you actively chose him, again and again, and he was interested to find why. When it appeared so easy to make you have sex with him, he lost interest, but then, at the night of the massacre, for some reason, he just didn't feel like killing you

• you were nobody, to each other, he hasn't even thought about you the first five years, before you came to visit.

• then the thought of you became somewhat of obsession

• he probably idealized you

• you asked where he lived now, and he said that his mum bought a flat in the city and had a room for him. You called him pathetic. At first, he didn't react; he looked broken.

• but there was still the same sense of grandeur in him; you, a feeble creature, thought you could outpower him with only your fury and jealousy, indignation at what he'd done

• but, as Kevin once told you, the world was so unfair to little, pretty girls like you

• he threw you on the floor of your kitchen

• you laughed with relief, saying, "Finally! I thought just fifteen years of prison broke you like a dry twig".

• the look of recognition sparked in his eyes; he kneeled over you as if to say something, and you got his nose with your fist

• one would say it was a happy (in the most infernal way) reunion

• you fought, and laughed, and kicked each other, and kissed with the blood dripping heavily in between your mouths. Only there, in the isolated square of your apartment, you could finally confess to yourself that you didn't give a shit about anything; you haven't for some time.

• the blood was smeared on the floor, on the table, on the cupboards of the kitchen from how much you fought and punched each other

• he left you half dead, and redeemed, it felt

• he said that he'd return soon, and he expected you to be there waiting for him. He didn't want you to go to work or see anybody.

• you laughed at this suggestion and got up to tell him something to his face.

• he was in the bathroom, washing his face. The blood was dripping from his nose onto his t-shirt; he looked like a painting

• and paintings are objects you could own.

• you said "Make me"

• and his smile was almost happy; Kevin could only master so much, that it looked like a deranged grin. The time he spent on the bottom of helplessnes in prison, with nothing but his own self, changed the way he smiled. There was nothing behind his eyes when he smiled now.

• he promised he would go out and fuck whoever he wanted, and then return to you, smelling like other women, and there was nothing you could do about it

• you clenched your fists, but you were now so weak you could barely stand. Your whole body ached.

• he helped you shower and washed your hair, tugging on it, giving you instructions, like an idiot, expecting that he had the same control over you

• after work, you go straight home, you don't text with your parents, don't see your friends, every time you leave your house, you tell him where

• you laughed like crazy at these words.

• Kevin, Kevin. His name was like melody. The pain in your body, bruises, were the first thing you felt in a long time, and, coincidentally, they were connected with the feeling of elation you had now, that his hands were on your neck and your shoulders.

• you could fuck whoever you wanted, Kevin, but it would only happen one time, because if you do, I'll cut your balls off

• and to make him sure that you weren't bluffing, you tried to stab him with manicure scissors from the bathroom mirror.

• his reactions were fast, and he caught your hand inches from his face.

• as he looked down at you, sitting in your bathroom in the pool of pink blood, blood on your forehead, your eyes rolling, he thought about the time he finally started paying attention at school. The girl who loved frogs so much she couldn't look at dead ones. Weak-gutted.

• he now almost admired how deranged you have become. At the moment of epiphany he realized he was the one who made you like this. He was so, so happy. Or what he thought was happiness.

• you pulled on his collar, biting your lip, and put his face very close to yours

• "Don't fuck with me". He saw all the fun coming and he didn't have any desire to disobey.

• Look, what was that damn thing you were talking about when you visited?

• you watched his sculpted face and his sharp bones, the tilt of the head and the vampiric malevolence in his eyes. What was love anymore? Would it have made any difference, morally, if you two had met in normal circumstances, and, more importantly, if he was normal? Would you even have fallen for him if he was a good boy?

• this life was a vortex that became tighter and tighter every year. Next to your memories of school, was this confined bathroom, like you existed on all of the planes at the same time. You laughed at your own naive young self that was looking for excuses for Kevin. uwu, his mum didn't want him. He's too pretty to be that bad. He didn't need excuses, he was always the villain. The good people are never that striking, that vivid and suffocating.

• nevermind, Kevin, it doesn't matter. I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

#ezra miller imagine #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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pedgito · 5 months

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Hi, this is a newly renovated masterlist to head into 2024 with! All of my old fics (eddie related) can be found here. My guidelines can be found here. This is all strictly Pedro-verse related fics and each fic linked will contain a short summary and word count. If you enjoy these fics, please consider a reblog, it's always appreciated! xo

FOR THE WORK (10k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [Pre-Outbreak]

PATROLS (17k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A story of how things began, where they ended up, and where they might go. A collection of patrols over the course of several months is forcing you closer to Joel than you ever imagined, tense circumstances leading to hasty decisions and one bad choice after the next. [Set Post S1]

SOFT & SWEET (5k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around Work Song by Hozier. A comfort fic with lots of angst and fluffy goodness. Content Warnings: mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it’s just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

MEET ME IN THE WOODS (Finished Series) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Taking a much needed vacation for the holiday, you aren't aware your cabin has been double-booked until you're face to face with the other guest the night you arrive, left with a big decision to make and the possibility of a month with a man you know nothing about. But, through communication and isolation, you learn that you and him might not be that different after all. Consumed by your shared loneliness, you find company in the unlikeliest of place—a stranger named Joel, in the middle of the woods. [No Outbreak] (6 chapters)

MET THE DEVIL LAST NIGHT (6k words) — (AU) Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

18+ Demon!Joel, Virgin!Reader, this was little plot lol.

THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR RIDING (3k words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots.

HANDSOME, DIRTY, RICH (12k words) — BFD!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

The rich father of your bestfriend, Sarah — Joel Miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided.

MILLER'S GIRL (Finished Series) — (AU) Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A sudden infatuation with your professor yields strange, unnerving results and Joel Miller, in his first semester at a new job finds himself in an unlikely position with a student that hides their intentions behind innocence.

UNDER YOUR SKIN (7.5k+ words) — Javier Pena x Fem!Reader

Summary: A new place, a new job, and new problems arise soon thereafter. Javier manages to weasel his way under your skin in more ways than one. The first—stealing your designated parking spot.

REQUEST (untitled) (2.6k+ words) — Javier Pena x Fem!Reader

Request was hurt/comfort, feelings freed after near death experience. Content Warnings: mostly sfw, arguments over commitment/relationships, mention of violence (bombing), descriptions of minor injuries and emotional distress, just lots and lots of angst

IT'S A DATE (2.5k words) — Javier Pena x Fem!Reader

Your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. Luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste.

Ezra (Prospect)

untitled sex pollen fic (6.5k words)

Lucien Flores

BLESSING IN DISGUISE (5k words)

Summary: you’re his best-friend’s daughter and he’s at a party he can’t be bothered to care about, luckily you’re the one thing that catches his attention.

LAST UPDATED: 02.20.2024

#joel miller x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #javier pena #joel miller smut #javier pena smut #masterlist*

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morallyinept · 1 month

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Lovely @the-blind-assassin-12 set a cool challenge called March Madness where the challenge was to read and re-blog 63 fics in the month of March.

So, here is everything I read & re-blogged during this month...

TOTAL READ & RE-BLOGGED ACROSS BOTH POSTS: 100 🥵

PART 2 OF 2 - Part 1 here

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics 🖤

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES: (In No Particular Order)

Babysitter - Dave York - @auteurdelabre

Is There Space Left In That Bathtub? - Ezra - We Should Probably Leave Before We Start A Scandal - Javier Peña - @jksprincess10

Mutual - Lucien Flores - @luxurychristmaspudding

Chained - Lucien Flores - @5oh5

Chevelle - Joel Miller - @strang3lov3

Come In, Atled Air, Come In - Frankie Morales - A Baker's Dozen Ezra Part 2 - Ezra - @avastrasposts

Glory O - Javier Peña/Steve Murphy - @milla-frenchy

Knife - Dave York - Scandal - Dieter Bravo - @wannab-urs

Scars - Joel Miller - @romanarose

Some Good Friend - Tim Rockford - The Howler Monkey - Dieter Bravo - @covetyou

Not Without You - Lucien Flores - @musings-of-a-rose

Whatever My Wife Wants - Javier Peña - @javierpena-inatacvest

Hungry Eyes - Lucien Flores - @missredherring

Two Pack Habit & A Motel Tan - Lucien Flores - What Have I Done? - Frankie Morales - @trulybetty

This High Of You & Me - Lucien Flores - @kedsandtubesocks

Sunrise - Imagine Your Own Pedro Boy - @sawymredfox

Nicotine Kiss - Lucien Flores - @maggiemayhemnj

Que Manera De Despertar - Javier Peña - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Keep Me In Your Glow - Javier Peña - @atticrissfinch

It's Hard - Joel Miller - The Worst - Tom 'Redfly' Davis/Frankie Morales - @toxicanonymity

The Rite Of Movement Drabble - Joel Miller - @tightjeansjavi

Midnight Strikes, Where Is My Prince? - Frankie Morales - A Debt To Pay - Frankie Morales - Cinema Drabble - Frankie Morales - @undercoverpena

Go Your Own Way - Javier Peña - The One - Dieter Bravo - @schnarfer

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - Marcus Pike - @whataperfectwasteoftime

Three's A Crowd - Dave York - Constellations In His Eyes - Dave York - @janaispunk

Amateur - Joel Miller - @ezrasbirdie

The Sequel - Marcus Pike - @toomanystoriessolittletime

Aquarius - Javier Peña - En El Mar - Joel Miller - Taurus - Joel Miller - Vote For Ted - Ted Garcia - @magpiepills

Please, Mister, Please - Joel Miller - @grogusmum

Between Two Lungs - Joel Miller/Tess Servopoulos - Sweet Days Of Summer - Joel Miller - Breath By Breath - Joel Miller - @ozarkthedog

Memories - Dieter Bravo - @bitchesuntitled

Cabin Fever - Joel Miller - @gutsby

Nylon Lust - Joel Miller - Beskar & Pearls - Din Djarin - @decembermidnight

Toy Story - Joel Miller - @sweetenerobert

House Arrest - Dieter Bravo - @rulexofxnines

Only For You - Marcus Pike - @burntheedges

First Time With Joel - Joel Miller - @wildemaven

Say Goodbye - Dave York - @quicax3

Movie Night - Zach Wellison - @munsonownsmyass

Out Of Sight - Dave York - @goodwithcheese

Practice Makes Perfect - Ted Garcia - @notjustjavierpena

Taste You - Dieter Bravo - @alwaysmicado

Cruel Summer - Dieter Bravo - @fhatbhabie

Something To Prove - Frankie Morales - @writefightandflightclub

Let Me Lay Down Beside You - Joel Miller - @jomiddlemarch

TOTAL READ & RE-BLOGGED ACROSS BOTH POSTS: 100 🥵

JETT'S FAV FIC RECS MASTERLIST

#marchficmadness24 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #everything I read in march #jett's fic recs

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lincolndjarin · 8 months

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THIS MASTER LIST WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATED !!!

CLICK THE LINK HERE TO GO TO THE UPDATED VERSION !!!

socials, etc. : *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ao3 ☆ insta ☆ kofi

NAVIGATION:

★ - series

✦ - story containing smut

𓅫 - dead dove do not eat

DIN DJARIN

★✦ Best Kept Secret : bodyguard!din djarin x princess!reader ^ completed

✦ Sweet Boy : din djarin x gn!reader

din asks you to buy something for him at the local markets.

✦ Bound in Beskar : din djarin x f!reader

A down on her luck traveler finds employment with a gruff Mandalorian. He's quiet and reserved, she's resourceful and quick witted, and things are heating up in the forge... one can only imagine what happens in this tale of lust and steel.

JOEL MILLER

★✦ Oh Honey : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader ongoing ^ chapter 5 coming soon

★✦ Every Now and Then : joel miller x f!reader ongoing ^ chapter 2 coming soon

✦ Pretty in Pink : joel miller x f!reader

you and joel have been trying for a baby for a while now, you're skeptical when you get advice from a friend but you're willing to try anything at this point.

✦ The Dragonfly & The Moon : joel miller x f!reader

you and joel decide to take the next step in your relationship.

My Sister Lives in the Attic : joel miller x f!reader

a short story about grief.

AGENT WHISKEY

✦ Ride Cowgirl! : jack daniels x f!reader

you like to make bets with your coworker for simple things, what happens when he decides he wants to raise the stakes?

𓅫✦ More & More & More : jack daniels x f!reader

jack likes to push things.

FRANCISCO MORALES

𓅫✦ A Little Mishap : frankie morales x f!reader

you and frankie return to base camp after an unsuccessful mission, each of you blaming the other for the outcome.

JAVIER PEÑA

✦ Constructive Criticisms : javier peña x f!reader

javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction

EZRA

𓅫✦ The Thing That Gives : ezra x f!reader

tentacles, tentacles, and more tentacles.

EXTRAS :

drabbles: (under 1k words)

✦ sub!din x f!reader

✦ dieter bravo x f!reader

✦ comandante veracruz x f!reader

#lincolndjarin #masterlist

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year

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𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟜

Whiskey N’Cokes & Shitty Ex-Boyfriends

♡ 𓃗 ♡

Pre!Oubreak Joel x horseback riding instructor f!reader

~word count : 4.9k~

Summary: Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

Warnings: soft! Joel, shy! Joel, horny!awkward!Joel, protective! Joel, is doing his best!Joel, fluff, flirting, slow burn, sexual tension, brief horny thoughts, no use of (y/n), some angst, minor injury to a horse, some mentions of blood and stitching up a wound, triggering themes at the end, brief mentions of animal abuse (not by Joel or the reader but by the readers ex) if this is something triggering for you, please proceed with caution and do not read. (+18) minors dni!

blue jeans playlist:

Austin, Texas

It had started off as any other normal Wednesday. You were at the barn till around 5, turning the horses out to pasture for the evening. There was talk of a big storm rolling through later in the night. Most would believe that keeping the horses out in the pasture, through that kind of weather, would be cruel. However, they were far safer out in an open space, than crammed in their stalls. Horses were more likely to get injured in their stalls, versus being out in the pasture. Injuries could be sustained anywhere.

Your boys were pretty used to the elements, sans Frankie. He had Ezra to watch over him, and keep him calm at least but you worried about that horse more than you cared to admit.

Despite your concerns, you knew you had to leave and head home to change and start your second job; bartending.

Owning horses, let alone 6, was costly. Between vet bills, grain, supplements and hay, you had no other choice but to find another source of income. Everyday after working at the barn, you’d work a few hours at the local bar. Tips were good at least and you knew the owner pretty well. Weekends you’d work the late shift despite the owner telling you to go out and live a little.

In your eyes, the horses would always come before anything else. They were your main priority.

Business was steady for the next few hours, most of your customers were locals, but there would be the stray tourist every now and then.

The men would flirt with you and you’d laugh it off each time. You couldn’t help the fact that you were just a naturally bubbly individual.

You were pouring a Long Island iced tea for a local college student when your handsome, Texas tall glass of water strode in. You didn’t see him at first, you were too busy taking the next customer's order but boy, did he see you.

The town was small, and almost everyone knew each other, so he shouldn’t have been that surprised to see you behind the bar top at his favorite joint. He was, however, frozen on the spot momentarily. How lucky he was to get to see you outside your element, to be in your presence.

Yes, Joel Miller had an astronomical fucking crush on you.

Did he unashamedly check you out from where he stood? He did indeed. The first thing he noticed was your black fitted tee, it hugged you in all the right places, leaving just enough to his imagination. However when he saw you reach for a bottle on the top shelf, in the tightest pair of jean shorts his eyes ever had the pleasure of seeing, his breath hitched in his throat.

Jesus age Christ, you looked good in just about anything. For a brief moment, Joel thought about how pretty you’d look flushed against him, ass to his crotch, and—fuckin’ hell, Joel. Keep it together man. This is your daughter's horseback riding instructor for fuck sakes.

He still had time to turn back around, leave the bar while he still had the chance. Now, wouldn’t that just be a little too easy? Tommy had urged him earlier that day to go out and live a little. Joel didn't do too much with his time outside of work, and taking care of Sarah. Work and his daughter were his main priority.

He didn’t turn around and leave the bar. His brain was quite literally screaming at him to leave. Go home, and pretend he never saw you here. Instead, his boot clad feet were already moving to the open seat at the bartop.

He waited till you were close enough to hear him, to even perhaps feel his presence from where you were fixing together another Texas style margarita. He turned his nose up at the amount of sugar he imagined was inhabited in that excuse for a drink. It smelled, and looked like an impending hangover waiting to happen.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight darlin’.

There it was, that familiar, warm southern drawl that sent your heart, and brain for a loop. Your handsome, Texas tall glass of water was sitting at your bartop.

“Joel?” To say you were surprised to see him here was an understatement.

He looked around, his eyes wandering around the bar area as if there possibly was another man named Joel that you could be speaking of.

“That’s my name, darlin’ I don’t see any other Joel’s ‘round here. Do you?” He mused.

You made eye contact with him after handing the girl her drink. You wiped your hands along a towel, tucking it into the belt loop of your shorts as you stood in front of him. “Nope, you’re the only Joel Miller that I know. Consider yourself special.”

He grinned up at you. Those stupid big brown eyes of his detected how flustered you were and you wanted to smack him with your little notebook. Did he really need to be wearing that tight of a flannel? Wasn’t he hot? it was absolutely boiling outside—

“I Take it you're surprised to see me? The feelin’ is mutual. Been comin’ to this place for years and ain’t ever seen you here.”

“Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough.”

“Find that hard to believe when you’re pretty damn hard to miss. This your hobby or somethin’?”

“Unfortunately, no. This is actually my second form of income. Taking care of 6 horses is costly, so I bartend everyday after work, and take the late shifts on the weekends.”

“Wow. No kiddin’? You ever make time for yourself? Pretty thing like you, hanging out with these old geezers?” He didn’t know where his sudden boldness came from, but as soon as the word ‘pretty’ slipped past his plush lips, he could feel his face and neck heating up from his confession.

Did Joel Miller just call you pretty? It must have been the heat getting to his head. Yeah, that’s the logical reason behind it.

“Well, these old geezers tip pretty well. Sometimes I’ll throw in a little extra smile, and maybe a wink or two. Whatever pays the bills, right?”

You watched as Joel brought his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. You could see the sweat beading along his forehead and it looked like at any second now one of those damn buttons were going to burst along the seams.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that they tip ya well. So then you don’t go and hang out with friends n’stuff like that? Or like a boyfriend or somethin’ You got one of those?” Please say no. He silently thought to himself.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and when he got just a glimpse, a mere taste of your cleavage, you could see the muscle of his broad biceps, twitch and stretch the worn fabric of his ridiculously tight flannel.

“On a very rare occasion I’ll meet my friends for drinks. As for if I have a boyfriend or not? I don’t. Unfortunately, I have an ex that comes around here every now and then. If I have one word of advice for you Joel, it’s to never shit where you eat.”

So you didn’t have a boyfriend and by the sounds of it, you were over your ex which means..let’s not get ourselves carried away here. For all Joel knows, you don’t think of him in any way outside of a professional stance. He was going to have to play this cool. Last thing he wanted to do was potentially scare you away.

“Ahh. The classic workplace romance? How’d you manage to get caught up in that? If you don’t mind me askin’ of course. Don’t wanna intrude.”

You laughed and uncrossed your arms from your chest. “I’ll give you a quick rundown, but first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Whiskey and coke.” He stated his order smoothly, like he had it a 100 times before. It was a classic choice, sweet with some boldness, and very much what you expected Joel to order.

“On a school night Miller? What would Sarah think?” You lightly teased. Grabbing a glass as you fixed together his drink.

He responded with a light chuckle, leaning back against the bartop stool, stretching his flannel even more. “Well, actually my younger brother Tommy is watchin’ her for the night. He actually suggested that I get out and live a little tonight so here I am.”

“Starting the night off strong with a good old whiskey and coke. I like your style, Miller.” You slid the glass over to him with a wink.

he nearly folded in that goddamn chair right then and there. Your wink alone was giving him heart palpitations. “I hate to break it to ya, but I ain’t much of a partier darlin’. Those days are long over for me.”

“Oh bullshit you aren’t. How old are you anyway? I mean, you don’t look like an old man by any means.”

Holy fuck. Now you were being the ballsy one. It was apparent that you brought it out of each other, in the best way possible.

He raised a brow at you over the rim of his glass, taking a long sip, his eyes locked on yours. “I appreciate you sayin’ I don’t look like an old man darlin'. I’m 34, but who’s really countin’ right? Sarah will probably tell ya that I have to wear diapers soon.”

You giggled, and it was the sweetest fucking sound Joel’s ears had ever heard. Fucking adorable, like seriously. You were so goddamn cute and he felt like a little school boy meeting his crush on the playground for the first time. Giggles and whispers would be shared as you would swing on the swing set together. Dream, soar, pretending you were two birds flying above the clouds as your swings would go higher, and higher—

“Damn, I wasn’t going to put you a day past 25. Now, don’t you go and let that get to your head, alright? I’m not giving out flattery for free over here.”

“I’m touched that you think I’m that young darlin’. Not that 34 isn’t young, but I’m startin’ to feel it in my back and it’s a fuckin’ pain in my ass.” He took another long sip before he set the glass down, keeping his hand lightly grasped around it because the cooling condensation was the only thing keeping him sane at that moment.

“The evil 30’s, and the impending back pain that comes along with it, truly is such a bitch.”

He cleared his throat as he looked up at you. He was curious to know how old you were as well. He had his speculations that you weren’t that far off from his age. “What about you darlin’? How old are you?”

“Just turned 30 this March. Who’s really counting though, like you said.”

“Damn, sugar. So you’re a cougar then? Wait, no. I’ve gotten that all wrong sweetheart. What would I be called, a manther? Is that even a thing? He asked suggestively, his tone came across in a teasing manner.

This had you reaching out and lightly swatting his bicep with your hand at his suggestion.

“A cougar, really Joel? We’re 4 years apart, and you did get that all wrong. I’d have to be older than you to be considered a cougar. Maybe Sarah was right about you needing diapers soon, you dork. Besides, I’d have to be attracted to you in the first place—”

“Ouch. So you ain’t got a smidge of attraction to me? Not even just a little? Woundin’ me darlin.’ You’ve absolutely just gone and shattered my poor poor soul.” He dramatically clenched his fist against his chest, mocking the expression of pain from your words.

Although, it did sting a little, and he wondered if he had crossed a boundary with you unintentionally.

Oh god, was he just messing with you? Was he being serious? You were dumbly attracted to this man. You were feeling like a little school girl with a crush.

“Joel I’m sorry I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, just spare me the details and twist the knife a little deeper why don’t ya?”

You were visibly mortified as you stumbled over your words, trying to change the conversation.

“So, we’ve been flirtin’ with each other this entire time, and nothin? Just a little game we’re playin? Well, you got me grippin’ the edge of my seat darlin', that's for damn sure.”

You took a deep breath, weighing out your options as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“Okay. Yes, I find you to be attractive. This is definitely not how I wanted to put it out there but hey, what do I really have to lose right?”

“I’m sorry darlin’ I didn’t mean to make you feel like you needed to admit to it or anythin’ did I cross a line? I’m sorry. That was honestly a dick move on my part. I just think you’re really pretty and—”

“Joel, breathe. You didn’t cross a line or anything, I just haven’t had a crush on anyone in a really long time. So this just feels like new territory for me at the moment.”

“The feeling is absolutely mutual. S’cute that you got a crush on me though. Got a crush on you too. Got a crush on my daughters fuckin’ horse back ridin’ instructor.”

“What are we, 10 years old or something?” You giggled.

“Yep. We most definitely are. Gonna go home later and scribble your name all over my notebook with hearts n’shit around it.”

“Oh god, are you really?”

“There’s a high possibility darlin.’”

Both of your attention was drawn to one of the many tv’s in the bar. This specific one was showing the weather broadcast, and it did not look good at all. You immediately thought of Frankie and the rest of the horses.

“Shit.” You spoke suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” He tore his eyes from the TV as he looked back at you, a sense of worry stuck across his handsome face.

“This storm is going to be worse than I thought. The horses will be okay, and I have them turned out for the night but Frankie—”

“Doesn’t handle loud and sudden noises well.” Joel stated. He wasn’t kidding when he told you that he remembered every last detail about all 6 of your horses.

“Yeah. I’m sure he’s gonna be alright but I just..I worry about him so I’m gonna need to go and check on them before it gets worse out there. Hey, Joel? Can you just hang out here for a second? I’m gonna go ask my boss if I can cut out early.”

“Course darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I can promise you that.”

You responded with a nod, leaving the bar top as you went and briefly told your manager the situation at hand. He let you clock out, and you reappeared with your bag over your shoulder. Joel already had his keys out, twirling them around his finger.

“C’mon let’s go. Hopefully the storm lets up till we get there. I might bring him and Ezra in for the night if that ends up being the case.”

“I’ve got my truck out front. I’ll drive, okay?”

“Perfect. I can just get my car later or something.”

The two of you headed out into the parking lot. The sky was pitch black, and you both could smell the approaching storm in the air as low rumbles of thunder were heard in the distance.

Joel was a total gentleman. He not only held the bar door open for you, but he was quick to open the passenger side door and give you a little boost. Despite the situation at hand, feeling his hands on your waist for a brief moment, sent a welcoming chill down your spine.

The drive to the barn was a quick one. Joel had glanced over in your direction briefly just as it had started to lightly rain and a bright flash of white hot lightning lit up the midnight black sky.

You were in a haste as he parked in the lot, you had the barn keys in hand as you rushed inside the building. Joel was close behind you as you made a quick stop at the tack room, grabbing Frankie and Ezra’s halters from their labeled hooks. Just as you were pulling open the back barn doors, the skies opened up and released a torrential downpour.

You nearly gave Joel whiplash with how fast you ran past him. Grabbing two flashlights, and two raincoats from your office. You threw him a flashlight along with the rain jacket as you slipped your muck boots on. “Well? You gonna come out there with me?” You looked at him expectantly.

“We don’t have much of a choice, right?” He turned the flashlight on before he slipped his arms through the sleeves of the raincoat.

“We don’t.” You confirmed.

The two of you headed out into the storm and were immediately smacked with the whipping rain. Your vision was blinded as you trudged through the muddy grass with your flashlights, and lightning strikes from above as your guideway.

You tucked your own flashlight under your armpit as you unlocked the pasture gate and pushed it open before trudging inside. It didn’t take you long to find 5 out of 6 horses huddled under the standing structure. Ezra gave you a gentle nicker when you shined your flashlight on him.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel, Frankie isn't here!”

Joel was already soaked to the bone despite the rain jacket and he too counted only 5 horses.

“Well he’s gotta be out there somewhere, right?”

You both heard a loud whinny coming from the back area of the pasture and before Joel could even stop you, you were running out from under the structure and towards the sound of the whinny.

“Darlin’! Wait!” He yelled out to you through the pounding rain.

Joel found you with a frightened Frankie against the far corner of the fence. He had sustained a decent sized gash along his front left cannon bone. It wasn’t deep enough to be severe but he would need medical attention.

Joel then saw the crack in the wooden fence where Frankie seemingly tried to escape from and was unsuccessful.

Despite the whipping wind, and pounding rain, you were gently talking to the frightened animal as you managed to get his halter and lead rope secured around him. “Easy now boy. I got you. You’re okay fella. Shh. Shh. Shh.” You gently stroked his neck as another bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder that had the fence trembling.

From where Joel was standing, he could see the whites of Frankie’s eyes from the flash of lightning.

“Darlin’! Is he hurt?!”

You started to carefully and slowly lead Frankie away from the fence. You had no choice but to take your time as he was limping due to the injury he sustained. “It’s okay Frankie. You’re okay fella. Gonna get you inside and fixed up? Alright? Good boy.”

When you were close enough to where Joel could hear you, you called out to him. “He’s got a decent gash on his front left cannon bone but it’s not deep. Just need to get him inside and I’ll take care of it. Can you put Ezra’s halter on and bring him in as well? They’re buddies.”

“Shit. He’s hurt? I don’t know darlin’ I’ve never—”

“Joel, please! I can’t bring them both in myself.” You briefly halted Frankie before sliding Ezra’s halter off your shoulder and handed it to Joel. “You can do this Joel, I know you can.”

Joel took the halter and lead rope from you and gave you a brief nod before he turned on his heel, and headed back to the standing structure. He walked inside and used his flashlight to locate Ezra from the others. Your horse was such a good boy he was already walking towards Joel, lowering his head so he could slip the halter on. “Hey, fella. Your friend is injured, and your mom said I gotta bring you inside with him. Can you help me out here? Cause I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue what I’m doin.’”

Ezra nickered softly in response, stopping in front of your yet-to-be-boyfriend. Joel remembered that the round part went around Ezra’s nose as he slipped it on. “Alright fella, this part goes over your ears, right? Yeah, I think so.” He slipped the headpiece of the halter over Ezra’s ears, and clasped the metal buckle through the metal ring.

Once he was confident that he had done it right, he grasped the lead rope in his hands and urged Ezra forward. By the time he had the halter secured, you and Frankie were close behind. Joel waited till you could walk alongside each other. He didn’t care about the rain, or the mud. He just wanted to make sure you and Frankie were safe.

Once the four of you were safely back inside the barn, you carefully hooked the crossties up to Frankie’s halter and had Joel put Ezra into Dieters stall Temporarily, as it was the closest to where Frankie was.

Joel watched as you tossed your soaking wet rain coat to the ground. You were completely zoned in on the task at hand as you disappeared into your office, grabbing all the medical supplies you needed for this minor wound.

“I’m gonna need you to gently hold his face while I’m doing this, okay? I’m gonna have to flush the wound out first, then apply some numbing cream to the surrounding area and then stitch him up.”

Joel watched as you grabbed the hose from the other side of the stall and turned the pressure on low, gently flushing out any dirt or debris from the gash along Frankie’s leg.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?”

You looked up at Joel from where you were crouched down and gave him a nod. “Yeah, he’ll be alright. It didn’t go deep, thankfully. Could have been a lot worse. He’s just gonna need some stall rest for a few days. He’ll be fine though Joel, don’t worry.”

After you flushed the wound out, you grabbed a white tub of numbing cream, dragging your fingers through the thick paste before you gently applied it to the area around the wound to numb it.

Frankie had side stepped from your touch, but Joel was right there, speaking softly to him and you felt a small smile tug on your lips as you heard him say, “Easy, fella. You’re alright. You’re doing great. Your mom is gonna fix you right up, just like she promised.” He cooed.

Once you finished applying the antiseptic cream, you started to suture the gash along Frankie’s leg. You were grateful for Joel, and his kind words, and soft tone as he spoke to Frankie.

Once you were finished, you wrapped Frankie’s leg in a specific bandage casing and let Joel lead him into his stall. You gave him antibiotics mixed into his grain and a few flakes of hay.

“Thank you so much for coming with me. I really don’t think I could have managed this on my own, Joel. I’m grateful that you were here.”

Joel looked over at you as he gave Frankie a gentle pat, stepping out of his stall and closed the stall door behind him.

“Of course, darlin’. It was no trouble at all. It’s a good thing my brother encouraged me to go out and live a little tonight, huh?”

“If I ever get the chance to meet him, I’ll personally thank him.” You let out a sigh, feeling exhausted from the situation. You were caked in mud and your hands were stained with Frankie’s blood.

“You uh—need me to do anythin’ else?”

“Yeah, can you grab a few flakes of hay for Ezra? I don’t think we can go anywhere in this storm, so we’ll have to wait it out. I’ll go grab us a couple of beers from the fridge in my office. It’ll make the time go by faster.”

“Sure, darlin’. No problem at all. I can handle that.”

Joel went to grab a few flakes of hay while you walked down to your office, grabbing a few towels and two beers from your mini fridge.

You set the towels down against Frankie’s and Ezra’s temporary stall for the night.

You sunk down against the towel, resting your head against the stall door and Joel joined you shortly after. He looked over at you and could just see the exhaustion etched into your face as you had your eyes closed. His shoulder lightly brushed yours as he sank down beside you, grabbing your beer and snapped the top off before grabbing his own.

“I almost forgot to tell you about my ex.” You finally spoke, peeking your eyes open to look over at him. You grabbed your beer, lightly tapping the rim against his, before you brought it up to your lips and took a swig.

He mirrored your actions, taking a small sip of his as he rested his head against the stall door, turning his head to look at you. “Only if you wanna tell me ‘bout him. Don’t feel like you’re pressured or anythin’, okay?”

“Nah, he’s a loser anyway. Like truly, a loser. Anyway, he followed me out here from California years ago. We dated all throughout highschool, and I thought we were gonna get married. Honestly, I think I was expected to marry him, but I’m glad that I never did. His family is big in the horse business as well. He mainly did western stuff and some events in the rodeo. Whiskey, actually used to be his up until 6 months ago.”

Joel was listening to you intently, his eyes stayed focused on your face and something was telling him that your ex was gonna turn out to be a real asshole. He just had this inclination to believe it.

“He didn’t…do anything to Whiskey, did he?”

You let out a sigh, taking another deep, long swig of your beer, letting it settle in your gut. “Not to Whiskey, no. Remember how I said Javi P has a deep distrust of men, for obvious reasons?”

“I remember you tellin’ me about that darlin’”

“Well, he thought Javi P was deemed as a dangerous horse. He didn’t want me to be around him and well, you can imagine how I took that. So, not only did he try to sell him back to slaughter, behind my back, He was fucking hitting him Joel. I couldn’t believe it. Literally. I was bringing a potential new client in for a tour, and we’re coming around the corner and I hear this noise, right? He’s literally punching Javi P in the face and then he gets bit.”

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me sweetheart. Please tell me that you’re jokin.’ Who the fuck does that to an animal?” Joel was seething from where he sat next to you.

“I wish I was joking Joel. I really wish I was. Anyway, I caught him in the act, called the cops and he was arrested on the spot. He’s charged with animal neglect, charged a fine and he makes fucking bail. His parents bailed him out. However, I have a restraining order against him and he can’t come within a hundred yards of this place. Whiskey was signed over to me shortly after.”

“What a fuckin’ piece of shit. His parents bailed him out too? They’re no fuckin’ better than he is. What a sick fuck.”

You placed your hand along Joel’s bicep, gently squeezing it to bring him back to earth.

“He is a piece of shit, and his parents are no better, but he’s a fucking loser and he’s never gonna be able to redeem himself. I obviously felt betrayed, and heartbroken when it went down because I did love him, but the horses were there to bring me back up.”

“I don’t care, I’m still terribly sorry that you had to go through that shit. Poor Whiskey and Javi P too. That dude deserves so much better. He’s lucky that he has you.”

“That’s why I’ve been working so much with him cause I want to teach him some good for once in his fucking life, you know? He’s got a big personality but he’s such a good horse. I know he is.”

“If anyone is able to get through to him, I’m sure it’s gonna be you sweetheart.”

By the time you and Joel had finished off your beers, it was past 1 a.m and the storm hadn’t let up. He was telling you a story about him and his brother Tommy, back in his younger years, when you had dozed off. Your head came to gently rest upon his shoulder. He froze, not wanting to disturb you in your slumber. He ever so carefully, brought his arm around your shoulders so you could use it as your own personal pillow. He didn’t even care when his arm started to ache from the position it was in. He just wanted you to be comfortable.

Sometime after, he found himself turning his head, gently resting his chin along the top of your head, listening to the sounds of Frankie, and Ezra chewing their hay, nickering to each other, and the sound of the rain pounding on the metal roof.

Joel soon dozed off to the feeling of your soft breaths fanning his cheek, sending a warmth creeping down his spine, and a soft smile spread across his lips.

Part 5:

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tommysversion · 11 months

Text

Heat (Ezra x F!Reader)

Summary: mutual attraction and a pair of sinfully tight sweatpants lead to more than you or Ezra could have expected. (There’s no plot, it’s just smut).

CWs: Spitting / slapping / mutual pining / cumplay / unsafe PIV sex / absolutely filthy talk / oral sex (f receiving) / praise kink / f masturbation / implied squirting /

Masterlist

For @miller--trash & @serenaxpedro ❤️

You’re starting to think you’re losing your mind, or at the very least getting close to it. This was meant to be a simple expedition, dangerous or not. Drop in, spend a month prospecting, drop out again, hopefully get rich enough to never have to return to The Green.

Getting a big stupid crush on your companion wasn’t meant to be part of the plan, but then Ezra had come along with his stupid drawl, broad frame, and that stupidly attractive smirk.

Everything about him pisses you off, but that’s less to do with him and more to do with how increasingly needy you are where he’s concerned.

Is it just you, or is he taunting you? You feel as if he’s more than aware of your interest, using it against you in a subtle way.

Like right now, for instance. He's taken to coming out the sanitiser still half damp, hair sticking to the nape of his neck, no shirt in sight, barefoot. That would probably be easy enough for you to ignore, and you had, quite successfully, for some time, until he'd found the damn sweatpants.

Dark grey in colour, they leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. You wish you were exaggerating, but you can see absolutely everything outlined in those sweats. Every thick, slightly curved inch.

Honestly, the damn things are obscene, and if you were on any sort of civilised planet, he’d probably get fined for public indecency. But you’re not on a civilised planet. The Green is lawless territory, and anything goes.

You wish you could remember that a little more often, or useful facts from the prospecting guide, but instead you have the outline of your companion’s arguably sizeable cock imprinted firmly into your brain. Great.

You have to force your expression to remain neutral. Force your eyes to move past him, look at anything else, because god knows you’ve already been looking too long. Long enough for that slow, lazy smirk to creep into his features as he leans against the closest countertop, watching you.

Why the fuck is the lander so small? Or maybe he’s just big and imposing. Who cares. You flop down in your bunk, try to return your attention to your book, but honestly? The prospecting manual isn’t exactly a riveting read at the best of times.

Still, it must work to take some of the heat off you, because he stops slouching against the bench, practically saunters across the small space, hauls himself up the short ladder to the top bunk, and stays there.

You don’t like heights. Not even bunkbeds. Almost ironically, you’re starting to wonder if sleeping on the bunk below his is as close to getting beneath him as you’ll ever get.

Your cheeks heat at the thought.

The lights in the lander go out at a touch of the control panel set beside the bunk, leaving only the faint glow of the emergency lighting, the sign that the security system and the air filters are still running at full capacity.

You could still read by overhead lamp, but it’s easier to put the book aside and pretend to be asleep. It’s only when you hear Ezra’s breathing become more steady and lazy that you dare to move again.

It’s embarrassing, honestly, the way you’re dancing around the subject. Reduced to getting yourself off in the sanitiser or in your bunk, trying to keep yourself quiet.

You’re almost certain you’ve heard him do the same once or twice, but you’ve been genuinely half asleep and unable to tell if you were hearing what you wanted to hear.

The thought of him wrapping one of those big, scarred hands around his cock, stroking himself slowly, trying to muffle any sound, is enough to make you soak your panties. His hands are big enough. You’d probably need to use both.

The idea of sleep is now the furthest thing from your mind, the ache between your thighs far more pressing and needy than anything else. Carefully, trying not to make too much noise, you tug your panties down, kick them off under the blanket that’s suddenly too hot.

Your shirt comes off too, tucked up by your pillow. It’s a lot more comfortable this way, naked under the blanket, your hands wandering across your body. In the dark it’s easier to imagine the hands are his, even if they are far too small to realistically be so.

You dip a single finger into your soaked core, spread your own slick across bare skin as your other hand slips upwards, cups a bare breast, fingers pinching a sensitive nipple into a hardened bud.

It’s not enough; you add a second finger, consider the thought somewhere in the back of your mind that his hands are so big, you’d probably need to fit three or four of your own fingers inside yourself to take two of his.

The thought makes your cunt clench around your exploring fingers, a soft whimper almost escaping before you bite down - hard - on your bottom lip to keep it trapped.

Not trusting yourself to keep quiet enough, you release your nipple, cover your mouth with your hand as you start to rock slowly onto your own fingers, chasing release, mind foggy, nothing mattering in the moment more than the feeling of pleasure beginning to overwhelm you as you imagine him inside you…

“I can hear that undoubtedly sweet pussy singing for me from up here.” His drawl interrupts your fogged, hazy mind; you almost sit bolt upright, almost jump, but instead you freeze.

“Don’t stop on my account… unless of course you’d be more acquiescent to the idea of my assistance.”

You’re used to the way he speaks, like something from an old world poetry book. Even in the fog of your brain, you understand what he’s saying. What he’s offering.

“Get the fuck down here.” Your response is far less eloquent, but then again he’s the one with the words.

You swear to god you hear the smug bastard laugh as he rolls out of his own bunk, slides down the ladder.

“Normally I’d make certain you knew I disapproved of your uncouth manner of speaking, but… in this case? I suppose it can be forgiven.” He shrugs in the dim light; you can see the smirk on his face as he leans against the bunk frame, watching you.

“You gonna just stand there and watch? I thought you offered assistance.”

You don’t even care how needy you sound; he’s caught you completely off guard, your fingers still soaked with your own slick, desperate and hormonal and definitely not thinking with your brain.

“Patience is a virtue, sweet girl.” Still, he obliges you, tugs down those sinfully tight sweatpants, leaving him entirely bare to your hungry gaze.

Fuck.

The outline may have been impressive, but it’s nothing compared to actually seeing him. He’s big and broad, carries himself with a sort of easy swagger, but even that doesn’t prepare you for how fucking perfect his cock looks. Just as thick as you’d expected, big and slightly curved, soft curls framing that and a pair of heavy balls that you want, desperately, in your mouth.

“Please… get over here… right now.” You remember your manners this time, even if your mouth is watering and your pussy dripping at the sight of him.

Maybe asking nicely does something to him, because he doesn’t taunt you this time, just peels back the blanket, dark eyes taking in your naked form before he crawls on top of you, leans in to devour your mouth in a hungry kiss.

You cling to him, hook one leg around his waist to keep him there as your fingers drag up his back, across broad shoulders. His tongue plunders your needy mouth in such a way that leaves no room to doubt that he wants this, wants you, just as badly as you want him.

You can feel him pressing against your thigh, the hot, heavy weight of him, and your pussy clenches around nothing yet again at the thought of him inside you.

“Now, what were you doing down here?” He breaks the kiss to ask, one hand crawling down your torso, cupping your drenched pussy lightly.

“Ez, please…” you’re so fucking needy for him, want him inside you so badly it aches, uncaring if he’s too big to take.

“Patience, dove, it’s not my intention to hurt you. When I have you screaming, I want it to be purely in pleasure.”

Then he moves, effortless, so your thighs are resting on his shoulders, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

“I heard you, of course, but I know I can do an undoubtedly superior job… all you have to do is sing for me, sweet dove.”

Then he leans in close, spits on your cunt, and traces a lazy pattern on your clit with the tip of his tongue, uncaring of the mess he’s making, what with his own spit and your slick coating his tongue, your thighs, the sheets.

“As sweet as nectar, just as I suspected.” He half murmurs it against your skin, slides his tongue inside you and moans, completely without shame at the taste of you, at the way your smaller hands fist into his hair as you grind yourself against his mouth.

He pulls away from you, drawing a disappointed whine from your lips.

“So needy,” he sounds half amused, half aroused; you can’t see, of course, not in this position, but his cock is aching and throbbing against the sheets of your bunk, leaking pre cum into the fabric.

“Ez…”

He lays a soft slap to your overstimulated pussy, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Patience.” He leans in and kisses where he slapped, traces his tongue around your clit before sucking it greedily into his mouth, releasing it with a lewd sound before delving his tongue back inside you.

He’s about to become the worlds’ biggest hypocrite, and he damn well knows it, because the more he licks and sucks at your cunt, the more desperate he is to just fuck you. Especially when you start whimpering, practically convulsing beneath him with the force of your climax.

He doesn’t even bother wiping his mouth, uncaring that your slick is dripping off his tongue, into his short beard, coating his moustache.

Moves instead so his forehead is pressed to yours, one big hand cupping your breast as you recover.

“Tell me, dove, have you had enough? Or do you require more assistance? I’d be more than happy to oblige you in whatever you wish for, although arguably I’d be more in favour of you begging me to feed that sinfully sweet cunt my cock.”

A kiss to your lips before he continues, rolling a pebbled nipple between thumb and forefinger.

“I just know you can take me, can just imagine how well those soft, sweet walls will envelope me. Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me that you want it.”

Your brain is so fucking hazy from your climax, from his words, but you’re greedy. Greedy and desperate and you want more. Want him to feed your tight little pussy every bruising inch of his cock, satisfy the desire and need for him that’s been building, neglected, for far too long.

“Please, Ez, I need it… need all of you…”

He keeps his forehead pressed to yours as he releases your breast, keeps himself propped up on one arm, uses his free hand to position your leg how he wants you, before wrapping that same hand around his cock, the tip and underside coated with his own pre release. He strokes himself slowly, thumb caressing the thick vein in the underside of his length, repressing a slight shudder at how sensitive he is already.

He’s halfway to guiding himself to your cunt when your much smaller hand reaches down and starts to caress his balls, soft little touches that draw a groan from him. He doesn’t even bother trying to repress that sound, moans softly as you touch him, guides himself to your heat and sinks inside.

You moan the moment he slides inside you, panting the second he sinks the first inch of a considerable amount into you. Your hand abandons its caressing of his balls, flies to his back to brace yourself instead.

“Slowly now, dove,” he’s trying to be somewhat careful, as close to gentlemanly as he’s capable of being; knows he’s big, doesn’t want to hurt you.

You have other ideas.

“No, not slowly.” You demand, arching up against him, wrapping your thigh around his waist to try and get him in deeper. “Need all of you, need it so bad…”

Ezra is not a man known for his patience, more given to fits of impulse, and it’s that side of him that wins out as he presses deep into you in a single fluid movement, slamming his hips flush against yours.

Oh, but the sound you make, makes it worth losing the prospect of savouring the moment, taking his time filling you up. The way you scream for him, nails clawing sharp lines up his back, leaving little crescent shapes in his shoulders.

He can feel you tighten and pulse around him, cock throbbing and aching in response. He wants to say something, anything, something poetic, but you beat him to it, in your far less eloquent manner.

“Fuck, Ez, you feel so fucking good…”

He likes the shortened version of his name on your lips, even more so when you sigh it like that.

“Do I, sweet girl?”

Fuck, he loves hearing you praise him, praising his cock, feeling you soak him, the way you claw at him.

“So good,” you repeat, leaning up to kiss him as he starts to move, slow, teasing little thrusts that make you whimper.

“Tell me you love my cock, dove,” he moans as you tighten around him again, tight little pussy barely able to take him, and yet…

“I do,” you babble as he starts to move properly, slow, lazy, deep thrusts that brush your cervix and make you gasp in pleasure. “Fucking love your cock, Ez, need you inside me, needed you for so long.”

It’s enough, more than enough, to short circuit his brain; nothing matters anymore but the heat of your smaller body beneath his, the way you arch up against him, moaning and mewling and babbling praise to him that only serves as fuel for the fire burning inside him.

It feels like simultaneously no time at all and an eternity have passed before you’re convulsing beneath him again, lips parted in a desperate, broken moan as you soak his cock, giving him better friction to drag himself out of you, slam back in.

His stamina is moderately impressive, but he’s not going to last, not like this, not when you’re so perfect for him, one hand clawing at his back, the other fisted into the sheets.

“Better tell me where you want me, little dove,” he breathes it into your ear, “or I might just be inclined to plant my seed in this sweet cunt and claim you forever.”

You whimper, lock your legs around his waist, make him smirk in satisfaction.

“Oh, you’d like that?”

You moan your affirmation, pussy tightening and throbbing around him at the very thought, the idea of him filling you with endless ropes of his seed…

“I did say I was happy to oblige your every wish,” he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, leaves a soft bite to sensitive skin before he pulls himself into a mostly sitting position, both hands on your waist, dragging your smaller body onto his cock again and again, using you for his own pleasure until he feels his balls tighten, cock aching as he finds his release, spilling endless heat of his cum into your waiting, needy cunt.

You whimper, wriggle beneath him, desperate to keep every drop he’s given you inside. He stays there, looking down at you with something like feverish adoration, until he feels himself start to soften inside you, pulls out of you, watches some of his spend drop from your swollen cunt onto the sheets.

“What a waste…” he murmurs it almost to himself, before he moves down between your thighs again, fingers catching what’s dripped out and pressing it back inside.

“Ez?”

“Hm?”

“What’re you doing?” Your voice is thick with fatigue, and yet lust still hangs heavy from every word.

“I want to test the hypothesis that our tastes combined are sweeter than any possible drug I’ve had the fortune to sample in my time.”

You blush as you realise what he intends to do, his hands already spreading your thighs as he leans in to taste himself inside of you.

It’s going to be a very, very long night, and you’re going to love every last moment of it.

#my writing #pedro pascal #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal characters #prospect 2018 #prospect movie

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