#tonight is an intoxicated night but i think i said what i mean to say

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

If we are willing to take the parts of previous movies in the trilogy that remain unsaid in following ones into our interpretation of the one we are watching, then the tusken massacre is relevant in RotS. Shmi is not mentioned by name, Anakin's actions are not spoken, but his dreams of Padme's death form a perfect echo of his dreams of Shmi. We can come up with sensible in-universe reasons for the callback, like how maybe Palpatine knew and induced the dreams to trigger Anakin, or perhaps the Force at work, but maybe it's just a fairytale, a parable, a rhyme.

Maybe it's a fun echo because it induces a sense of dread in both the audience and in Anakin. We've seen this before, we know where it leads. But while he's thinking about Padme, we're thinking about what he will do. Well, I am.

Anakin begins RotS as a liar. First, we watch him lie to Obi Wan about why he killed Dooku. The lie comes easily enough, Obi Wan believes it even more easily. Anakin Skywalker, exemplary jedi knight, hero of the hour, follower of the code. He feels uneasy about it though, he says so to Padme. When Obi Wan give his farewell and tells him how proud he is, and how Anakin has grown to be a greater jedi than he, Anakin cannot look him in the eye. It works on it's own, just about, but back to back with AotC it works better.

Of course, a lot of his lies are about Padme. (A lot more sympathetic, but also a far more absurd reason to clam up in a way; we know that the people who love him will still love him if chooses marriage over the Order.) But as he goes to Yoda and begins to tell him about his dreams, he stops himself. He does not tell the whole story. He cannot. We know why, we just watched aotc. Those dreams led to that death which led to that fall. We've seen it all before. He is so afraid.

I don't think it's controversial to say that Anakin's isolation and unwillingness to go to anyone except Palpatine for counsel contributed to his crisis in RotS. Palpatine definitely took advantage of that, and Anakin eschewed several onscreen attempts to get him to just. open up.

His actions in aotc were a foreshadowing of what was to come, but they also began a pattern of behavior of repression and denial and deceit. If he had come forward- if he had faced his actions which genuinely did cause him some horror at the time- he would have faced more immediate consequences. He would have disappointed and horrified Obi Wan (and the other jedi), he would not have been knighted, and he would not have been given positions of authority, at the least. But considering how much damage he did and how much he lost when he committed to the dark side, I would say the consequences of his deceit were far greater in the end.

Something that comes to mind is both the ending of the OT- with the darkside being something he could choose to just… stop doing, and also Yoda saying 'forever will it dominate your destiny'. I can see how they might sound contradictory, but to me they are in harmony- it is a choice, you can walk away, but there are always consequences. If Anakin had been held to account, there would have been immediate consequences, consequences he desperately wanted to avoid, but that wouldn't have been the end of the world for him either, not really. They wouldn't have actually stopped him from ever being okay again. (let's be real, even if Obi Wan were disappointed, he'd still have loved him, and Padme certainly did. ) Anakin didn't commit to the darkside when first he fell, he wanted to go on as he was- he wanted to keep the things he had- and so he could continue to act as a jedi for several years because he chose to act like one for the most part, but he did not fully commit to being a jedi either, and his dishonesty, and his lack of remorse, eventually had consequences for him. And for everyone else.

#tonight is an intoxicated night but i think i said what i mean to say #anakin skywalker

[loonylupinblack3]

Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kinktober: ghostface

words: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, f masturbation, death/killing, blood, knives, f receiving oral, attempted rape (from not rafe), noncon/dubcon, p in v sex

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv

"why do you keep looking at your phone, y/n?" your best friend, jennifer, asks, leaning over to look at the screen but you quickly click it off, setting it face down on the table.

"it's nothing." you shake your head. "ive just been getting some texts from an unknown number."

"what do they say?" your friend asks, and then presses further when you keep your mouth tightly closed, "are they creepy?"

"a bit…" you shrug.

"do you know who it is?" 

"clearly not!" you snap, the text messages have put you on such an edge. you don't mean to lash out on your friend, but you just can't help it. "sorry." you sigh, letting your head drop into your hands, rubbing your eyes with the pads of your fingers.

"y/n…" she sighs "i can tell how worked up you are, maybe just block the number?"

"yeah, maybe." you mumble, but you know that you're lying to her. it's too intoxicating, the obsessive attention that the anonymous texter gives you.

your phone dings and you jump, quickly picking it back up. you see something unexpected: a photo of yourself, sitting across the table from your friend, clearly taken just moments before it was sent, of course by the same unknown number. your head snaps up, scanning the tables on the other side of the restaurant, but there's so many faces you recognize along with this being the most popular lunch spot for college students attending your university.

"what is it?" jennifer asks. you almost forgot she was sitting across from you, attention solely on the mysterious texter. "y/n, is it the same number?"

"no." you shake your head, giving another glance around the restaurant. "just my ex boyfriend."

--

you look beautiful tonight. you read the text, speeding up your walk. you still aren’t replying, thinking it was best to let whoever was on the other end talk themselves bored, but they’ve continued with no response over the past week, showing no sign of letting up now.

are you scared? you pause briefly and look around. there’s no one that you can see. you turn up your pace into a light jog, regretting being out at night but needing to get from your evening class back to your apartment just off campus.

it would be a shame if someone took you right now. your heart is beating faster than ever as you break out into a full sprint, eyes blurring slightly with tears until you get to your apartment door, unlocking it quickly with shaking hands. you’re not sure you could hear someone walking up behind you with how loud your breathing is.

you rush in as soon as the door is unlocked, latching it behind you and then proceeding to draw all the curtains in the house. you run upstairs to your bed, needing the comfort of being under the sheets and locked behind several doors.

sleep tight, princess.

--

“did you hear?” jennifer asks, bursting through your door the second it’s unlocked.

“hear what?” you ask, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, knowing you need to head out soon to get to class on time.

“oh my god, it’s a tragic. a girl got murdered last night on campus.” “what?” your movements halt, turning to look at the wide eyed expression on jennifers face. “who?” “i don’t know, they’re not saying yet. they found her hanging in a tree! i guess she was really bloody because whoever saw her said they couldn’t make out her face.” “ugh, that’s horrible!” you say, feeling a shiver run through your body. you were just walking alone at campus late at night.

“but there’s good news! classes are canceled for today and all evening classes are moved to online until future notice, probably until they find the killer.” you don’t know how to respond to that, but at knowing you don’t need to head to class you do feel a bit of relief, even if the emotion is quickly followed by guilt. you close and relock the door, even more cautious knowing that there is a murderer on the loose along with your mysterious texter.

you sit down on your couch, curling your knees up into your chest. “do you think it’s related to that kasia girl who got killed last year?” “i mean it has to be, right?” jennifer plops down next to you. “what are the odds of two girls being violently killed and-” “okay, stop.” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your legs to quell the chills.

--

did you hear?

you gulp receiving the text. there’s no way anyone on campus could have missed the news, it’s all that’s been circling over the past three days, and you have no doubt thats what your mysterious texter is referring to.

yes. you type back, hitting send before even realizing that you were supposed to not be communicating back.

so lucky it wasn’t you. after all, i saw you walking that night. but i didn’t choose you.

your eyes widen. what does he mean choose? did you kill that girl? you text back quickly, hesitating only a moment before sending it. 

yes. because i can’t kill you.

--

“and you say you have no idea who has been sending you these text messages, ma’am?” the man asks.

“no, they started out of nowhere, and i thought they were creepy but i didn’t think it was… if i thought it was the killer i would have brought it to you earlier.” the police detective nods, jotting down some notes. “and you give us permission to keep the phone as evidence?” “yes, god, i don’t want it.” you already jotted down your important contacts, and have plans to head right to the store after and buy a new phone, with a whole new number.

“okay miss… you do understand that if we find this to be just an elaborate prank that there will be serious punishment for wasting our time.” you sit back in your chair, shocked that the detective would even suggest that. “it’s not a prank. they’ve been texting me before the girl was even murdered, i don’t know how you expect me to have planned all that.” “hm.” the detective just hums in dismissal, setting the phone to the side of his desk. you assume he’s not even going to look into it further, but you’re glad to be rid of it.

--

“i can’t believe classes are still going on today. another body was just found last night!” jennifer says, smearing her fry in ketchup before sticking it in her mouth.

“he was found just off campus, i think that’s their reasoning.” you say, looking nervously around the university cafeteria. “not that i agree.”

“oh my god!” your other friend, stephanie, gasps, looking up from her phone. “it was scott moss!”

“the football player?” you ask, also pulling out your phone. you unlock it, still getting used to the slight differences from your old phone. you search his name, and true enough, the first article that pops up is that the second (or third? as the article questions) body to be found has been identified as scott moss. the first body got identified a few days ago, but you didn’t know the girl.

“this is fucking crazy.” jennifer says, reaching for another fry.

“this article says the police are saying that the knife used to kill the girl last year is the same one used on the two new victims!” stephanie reads out.

“holy fuck, do you think they’re gonna investigate rafe again?” jennifer asks, turning to look at you.

“rafe got cleared, right? i think it’s unfair to hold it over his head just because he got questioned by the police.” you say.

“please, we all know he only got released because of his rich daddy.” your phone buzzes, and you flick your eyes down to the screen, blood turning cold.

you didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?

--

“hey, rafe.” you mumble, sliding into the seat next to him, able to feel the nervous energy in the room.

“hey.” he says in return, eyes on the desk in front of you. it’s clear from the moment you walked in that people were purposefully sitting further away from him than normal in the large lecture hall. over the past year, the fact that rafe was ever questioned about the first murder was forgotten, pushed to the back burner by whatever new gossip was sweeping campus, but with the new killing spree, he was back on their radar.

“surprised you’re sitting next to me.” rafe says, hands gripping his pencil tightly.

you know people are bound to whisper about you next, but you want to show that you don’t believe rafe could do it. you’re not that close to him, but he was your lab partner last semester and you believe yourself to be able to tell when someone is a crazy serial killer or not.

“why wouldn’t i?” you question, giving rafe a small smile. “besides, who else am i gonna get notes off of for when the professor changes the slides too fast again?” --

 you lay in your bed, wishing you could just go to sleep, but you’re too alert, waiting for something to happen, a noise or movement, but it doesn’t come. you pick up your phone, scrolling through instagram until you get bored of your repetitive feed.

your finger hovers over an app. you shouldn’t, but you do. you click open the text message thread, with only a single, taunting message sent so far.

hello.

you watch the screen for a response, surprised when they immediately begin typing back. miss me?

you catch yourself before you laugh. why did you kill scott?

why do you care?

you sit and think for a moment. i guess i don’t. you feel ashamed, but there is no judgment coming from the person on the other end.

i saw you on campus today. i like your hair in braids. wear it like that tomorrow.

you set your phone down on the nightstand, turning the screen face down. your sleep is constantly interrupted, waking up at every sound you hear, so by the time you drag yourself out of bed in the morning, it feels like you’ve gotten barely an hour all together, but still, when you head into the bathroom to get ready, you brush your teeth and then part your hair directly down the middle, braiding each side neatly.

your phone pings from the bedroom and you rush back in to look at it.

ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS: all classes and campus activity has been suspended effective immediately. common areas will remain open during the day, and we strongly advise all students to travel in pairs. a lockdown will be put into effect starting at 9pm every night, where all students must remain in their dormitories. 

you head into the living room, clicking on the tv while typing out a text to jennifer. 

“yet another murder has shocked the university.” you look up from your phone to watch the news report. “after linking the recent two killings of college students with the murder of kasia walters just over a year ago, a third murder has occured just last night, and we have exclusive details, including, an eye witness.”

you sit down on the couch, forgetting about your half drafted text as the news coverage reveals another classmate killed, again out in the open, but this time someone from inside one of the dorms happened to be looking out there window and witnessed someone dressed in all black except for a white ghost mask stab the girl multiple times. 

they show the ghost mask, apparently a popular one that can be bought at tons of stores, already starting to brandish the serial killer with the nickname ‘ghostface.’

your phone buzzes in your hand. she had her hair in braids like yours.

is that why you killed her?

i killed her because i can’t kill you.

part of you wants to ask why, but a bigger part of you doesn’t want to know.

--

you find yourself with nothing to do all day except scroll through social media. you don’t even have assignments to work on with classes being canceled instead of just moved online.

you open all the curtains in your apartment to get some natural light in, but keep every door and window firmly latched. you know you should start some routine to keep you from going crazy and thinking about the murderer.

you move from the couch to your bed, because why sit when you can lay down. you sigh and open up tumblr, scrolling through your feed until you get to a smut of your favorite character. you bite your lip and open it.

as you read, your hand drifts lower, rubbing your pussy from over your clothes as the words on your screen turn you on. you let out a soft moan, thankful for the soundproof walls of your apartment, and the fact that the unit next to yours is currently empty.

no better way to let out some stress with a good masturbation session. you push your hand down under your pants and underwear, sighing when you get a touch at your bare skin, fingers finding your clit and stroking over it as your eyes continue to follow the fanfiction.

dirty girl.

you jump at the text, glancing around the room, eyes landing on the open window. you can’t see anyone through it, but apparently they can see you.

don’t stop on my account.

you feel more turned on than you should, continuing to slowly move your fingers underneath you sweatpants. 

take them off for me. let me see your pretty pussy.

your cunt clenches around nothing at the words. you’ve never dirty talked with a man before, and really you’re not, responding with your body instead of replying to the texts. you stand up off the bed, knowing you shouldn’t, but you push your pants down, quickly followed by your underwear. you lay back on the bed, angling yourself slightly towards your window.

there you go. touch yourself again for me.

you begin to stroke over your pussy again, circling your clit as you wait for another text.

i would bury my head between your legs. i bet you taste delicious.

you let out a moan, moving faster.

i would have you cumming around my cock.

have you ever had that before baby? or are you a virgin?

you would never admit it to any of your friends, but you find yourself using one hand to type out the singular word: virgin.

the reply takes too long to come, you’re growing frustrated as your clit pulses.

i’ll be your first. cum for me, princess.

you toss your head back on the bed, flicking over your clit until you can’t hold it back any longer, cumming with a series of loud moans, spreading your legs wide to give whoever is watching you a good view as you cum, pussy clenching around nothing, practically inviting him in to fuck you.

you feel the shame the second your orgasm subsides, snapping your legs closed, standing up and shutting the shade, blocking out any view of your bedroom from the outside.

--

“no seriously, don’t you think a party is like the worst idea right now?” “no!” jennifer laughs. “it’s perfect. a bunch of people, all together. so literally nothing bad can happen!” 

you’re reluctant to agree, but it’s too hard to say no to your best friend, so you cave and get ready with her in your bedroom, applying some light makeup before spending half an hour choosing the right outfit. as much as you don’t want to go, if you are gonna, you are at least gonna look good.

you arrive at the party just before sunset, of course taking place at a frat house. thankfully it’s only about a three minute walk from your apartment, so both you and jennifer could drink as much as you pleased without being worried about finding a ride back, you could practically see your front door.

“gonna get us some drinks!” jennifer yells over the pumping music, and you nod, trying to find a place to stand that doesn’t have someone bumping into you every second. there’s nothing like a murder spree to bring a college campus together as you see some very unlikely people to be at a frat party.

“here you go!” jennifer hands you a cup of clear liquid. you know better than to smell it before you shoot it down your throat, cringing at the burn when you pull the plastic cup away from your lips.

“that’s fucking disgusting!” 

“i know isn’t it great!” jennifer yells in laughter, and you can’t help but join in the infectious sound.

“lets dance!” you say, feeling the alcohol moving through your system. the whole house is practically a dance floor, but it’s centralized in the living room, so you push through the outliers until you’re in the center of the crowd, laughing and jumping with jennifer as you move to the beat.

“i’m gonna get another cup, do you want more?” jennifer asks, having to yell practically in your ear for you to hear her over the music.

you shake your head, happy to keep dancing with just the lightest buzz. while jennifer is away, no doubt struggling to push her petite frame through the crowd, you feel a pair of hands on your hips. you turn to see who is trying to dance with you, frowning when its brandon richmond. he tried to hit on you so many times last year you lost count, but you turned him down every time.

you pull out of his grasp and put a couple of bodies between yours between dancing again, but when you see brandon following you throughout the crowd, you duck away, heading down the back hallway and out the door to the patio. you breathe in the fresh air, surprised to see no one else back here taking advantage of the quiet, even though the thump of base is still loud. 

you lean against the fence of the balcony, looking out past the backyard, realizing you can see the back of your apartment buildings from here, including right into your bedroom window. a shutter runs down your back thinking about someone watching you through it, even though you tend to keep the curtains drawn shut.

“what’re you doing?” you hear a voice slur, causing you to jump, turning around quickly to see brandon standing in the doorway.

“just needed some fresh air.” you say, trying to pull the hem of your skirt down farther, regretting the outfit choice.

“i hope you weren’t trying to get away from me.” brandon says, and his words have you pausing to consider that he may be the mysterious texter, the killer. after all, he raged after you finally firmly told him no. he didn’t hurt you, but you were afraid he might.

“n-no.” you back away, but there’s nowhere to go except down the steps and into the grass, into the darkness of the tree lined fence, but you’re willing to risk whatever is in the shadows before you stay this close to brandon.

you turn and retreat down the steps, hoping he will give up and go back inside, but when you feel his hands on your waist you know he’s not giving up any time soon.

“stop!” you shout, feeling one hand move up and grip your breast tightly, squeezing so hard it hurts.

brandon turns you around in his grasp, leaning forward in a clear attempt to kiss you, when suddenly he stops, face going slack as he pitches forward, making you step out of his way so he falls on the grass instead of on you.

your eyes travel from his body, not moving, to where he previously stood. you take a step back before releasing a scream. it’s him, it’s ghostface, standing there with a bloodied knife in his hand.

he takes no interest in you as he bends over brandon, stabbing him again in the back, and that’s when you realize theres blood spurting out of him. on the third swing of the blade you finally realize you need to move, turning away and heading towards home. you run as fast as you can between the houses, keeping your eyes on your apartment, not wanting to know how closely he was following you.

you feel your phone buzz in your pocket and you wonder briefly if it’s ghostface or if it’s jennifer asking where you disappeared to.

you reach your door, thankful for briefly being in track in middle school for your ability to run fast. your hands fumble with your key, letting out a curse when you drop it from your hands shaking too hard, feeling like you’re in a horror movie as you finally get it unlocked.

you go to swing the door shut behind you, but it doesn’t latch. you fearfully turn around, realizing that his hand stopped the door from closing.

“p-please, i-” you back away as he steps into your space, your home, what was supposed to be the one place you were safe. he closes the door behind him, and you shudder hearing the click of the lock.

you turn and run towards the kitchen, hearing his footfalls close behind as you round the island counter in any attempt to get away, taking a cookie tray from off the counter and tossing it behind you as you run. it gives you enough time to head into your room, locking the door behind you. 

you head immediately to the window, knowing your apartment is no longer safe. you open it up, thankful for once to live on the first floor. you try to pull yourself up and over, but it’s too high off the ground and you’re wasting precious time struggling. 

you grab your chair from your desk, pushing it under the window and climbing onto it. you get one leg over the ledge, when a hand grabs your thigh, pushing you back into the room and onto the floor.

you scream as ghostface catapults through your window, smashing the pane shut behind him. locked in. you turn onto your back, trying to inch away as he begins to rant.

“i told you i would not kill you!” he screams. “i told you yet you still run from me!” your brow furrows as you try to place the voice. it’s so familiar. 

“i killed that boy for trying to rape you, and your thanks is to scream and run?”

“rafe.” you let out a sigh in realization. 

ghostface takes the mask and pulls it off his head, revealing a face that has your heart breaking. no. there’s no way he could be the murderer. the stalker.

“please don’t hurt me.” you whimper, using your bedpost to help pull yourself up off the floor.

“i could never hurt you.” rafe steps closer, reaching out to you, his glove leaving a smear of cold wetness on your cheek as he gently rubs it, and it takes you a second to realize it’s blood. “even though i want to.” “wh-why do you want to hurt me?” you ask.

“i love you too much. it’s the same reason i can’t.” rafe sighs. 

“thank you.” you whisper, unsure if this is the right course of action, but not wanting to anger him. “thank you for saving me.” rafe gives you a smile, one that dazzles you even after knowing the truth. “i knew you would understand me. you were the only person who knew i didn’t kill kasia.”

your eyes widen, “you didn’t.” it’s not a question, it’s a realization. 

“no. and no one believed me. i was in jail for a week, questioned for hours on end. nobody even cared to look at her boyfriend.” “i didn’t know she had a boyfriend…” you try to rack your brain to remember who she was often seen with, “scott moss.” “i knew nobody would believe me that scott murdered her. i had to get rid of him myself.” “and the other girls you killed?” you question, trying to back away from rafe but he just follows, not letting you get more than a foot apart.

“they reminded me of you.” 

“no.” you let out a sob, unable to hold it back anymore. “no, it can’t be my fault.” “shh.” rafe tugs his gloves off his hands, dropping them onto your floor. he cups your face in his hand, making you look up at him. “don’t cry. i hate seeing you cry. it makes me want to kill.” that sobers you up quickly, sniffling as you try to stop the tears. “i’m sorry.” you whisper.

“it’s okay… can i cheer you up baby? can i make you feel better?” “how would you do that?” you ask, and rafe leans forward to show you, pressing his lips against yours gently. you hesitate, realizing how absolutely wrong this is. you just saw rafe kill someone, but the feel of his lips against yours has you feeling dizzy, starting to slowly kiss back.

as soon as you show some initiative, rafe becomes feral, mouth dominating yours in harsh kisses as he moves his hands to your waist, fingers slipping into the space between your skirt and crop top. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, keeping him pulled tight to you. 

“get undressed.” rafe says, pulling away harshly. he pulls the costume off over his head, revealing plain clothes underneath it. you stand transfixed as he begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing golden skin. rafe looks up, realizing that you’re not moving.

he reaches around his back to pull something out of your waistband. your eyes widen when the silver glint of the knife shines in the low light, “i said, get undressed!” rafe yells, pointing the knife at you.

you’re quick to move, toeing off your heels, pulling your skirt down and tugging your shirt off. you look up to see rafe removing his underwear. your eyes widen at his hard cock. you unclip your bra, tugging it off and then followed by your underwear, leaving you completely nude.

rafe looks at you, eyes moving all the way from your toes to your head, examining every inch of your body.

“you’re so beautiful.” he steps closer, hand cupping your breast, thumb gently rubbing over the side of it. “i would have been soft with you tonight, knowing you’re a virgin. but that was before you ran from me, and disobeyed me. get on the bed.”

you don’t hesitate this time, laying on the bed, with your head against the pillows. rafe sets the hunting knife on the nightstand, draping his body over yours, and you can’t help the rush of wetness that floods your pussy when you feel his cock rest against your thigh.

“i’m going to make you feel so good. so much better than brandon or any other guy ever could.” rafe smashes his lips against yours, battling with your tongue. his hands grip your jaw, squeezing your face as he moans into your mouth, rutting his cock against your skin.

rafe pulls his mouth away, moving it to your neck, sucking harshly. you can feel the blood rushing to the spot, forming deep bruises as he moves lower to your chest, marking your decolletage.

“i’ve wanted this for so long. now i finally get to taste your skin.” he wraps his mouth around your nipple, forcing a moan out of you. you arch your back, pushing your chest further into his mouth. rafe sucks harshly, like he’s trying to leave a hicky there too, before he pulls away, moving to your other breast.

instead of sucking this time, he sticks his tongue out, flicking over your nipple until it’s completely hard before taking it in between his teeth, making you shout as he tugs on the hard bud.

“rafe! oh my god!” 

rafe moans against your chest, moving slightly off your nipple before biting your breast, leaving a bite mark on your skin as he continues down, kissing and licking your stomach as he moves himself down the bed, settling between your legs.

“rafe, i-” you gasp out as he kisses your thighs. you try to pull them closed, not wanting his eyes on the most intimate part of you, especially knowing how wet you are. “i’ve never-”

“never had anyone eat your pussy before?” he questions, hands shoving your legs open. 

“no, i haven’t, i-” rafe cuts you off by shoving his face into your cunt. his tongue laps over your entrance, his own moans from tasting you matching your own from the unfamiliar sensation.

rafe is quick to shove his tongue into your pussy, thrusting it in and out as you bring your hands down to grip his hair, eyes briefly flashing to the knife sitting on the nightstand, knowing rafe isn’t paying any attention to it.

“more, more, more.” you beg, eyes moving back to look at rafe. the need is too great to consider doing anything to stop it. 

“gonna stretch you out with my fingers, baby.” rafe says, moving his mouth up to your clit. you let out a scream at the feeling, reaching down to grip his hair in your hands. you can feel rafe smile against you, sinking his teeth into your clit as he bites it. 

you squirm under the harsh feeling, it’s just too much, but he won’t let up as he pushes the tip of his finger against your puckering entrance, briefly circling it before shoving the digit inside in one firm push. your back arches off the bed as he lets go of your clit with his teeth, stroking over it with his soft tongue.

his finger pumps in and out of you, and you spread your legs wider, giving him more space to abuse your cunt as a second finger pushes in along with his first. rafe looks up at you, wicked smile on his face, “for a virgin you’re certainly acting like a slut.” you whine, feeling tears come to your eyes. “it feels too good.” “i know baby, i promised i’d make you feel better and i’m doing it, right? do you feel better?” “yeah.” you breathe out, his head dropping again to suck harshly at your clit, “yes! oh my god, rafe!”

“call me by my other name.” rafe says, only briefly pulling away from your pussy to speak before continuing to attack your clit.

you shake your head no, but rafe just gets a determined look in his eye, somehow managing to fit a third finger inside of you, stuffing your cunt full as it squeezes tightly around them, his fingers angling upward to hit the spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

rafe pulls his mouth away, thumb quickly taking its place over your clit, the rough pad rubbing harshly, tucking underneath to rub your most sensitive spot, and you can’t hold back any longer, as much as you try, “ghostface!” you shout, wetness flooding from your pussy and soaking his hands and the bed as you cum, entire body shaking as the sensation overwhelms your body, vision going black as you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing rafes laugh echoing throughout the room as he finger fucks you through your orgasm.

he pulls out suddenly and you can’t help but whine at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing. you blink your eyes open to see rafe kneeling between your legs, using the wetness from his hands to stroke his cock, coating himself in your slick.

“are you going to fuck me?” you ask, suddenly afraid of his size hurting.

“i’m sorry, princess.” rafe says, draping his body over yours, rubbing his dick against your messy cunt. “i would have been so gentle with you if you’d just behaved for me tonight.” “i’m sorry, rafe, i promise i’ll be good from now on, please go slow.” rafe frowns, like he’s seriously considering your pleas for a moment before he shakes his head, placing an elbow on one side of your head, reaching down with his other hand and lining himself up with your entrance. you breathe deeply, trying to keep your body from tensing, knowing that being relaxed will make it easier.

you cry out as rafe pushes his cock inside of you, not giving you any time to adjust as he immediately begins thrusting in and out. you watch as the eyes roll back in his head from finally being inside you.

“you’re so fucking tight, my little virgin.” rafe laughs, but it turns into a moan as he looks down at where his body is connecting with yours. “not a little virgin any longer though, huh?” rafe is bringing his entire body weight down with every thrust, and even though the stretch was painful at first, it just feels good now, the way his skin rubs against your clit every time he presses deep inside of you.

you can’t help it, when he pushes in and grinds his hips against you, your cunt flutters around his cock, squeezing it tightly, completely involuntarily from how good it feels.

“god, fuck!” rafe shouts out, making you flinch in fear.

“i’m sorry.” you whimper, eyes wide as he looks down at you, unable to read his emotions.

“you’re too fucking good.” rafe groans, hand coming up and gripping your throat, squeezing it tightly as he looks down on you. “i wish i could just fucking kill you.” your breathing is restricted, black flaring into your vision as rafe holds you by your throat, using it for leverage as he takes you repeatedly.

you try to form words, try to call out for him, and just as you start to slip into unconsciousness, rafe lowers his hand to your breast, gripping the skin there instead as you take in large gulps of air.

“i told you i wouldn’t kill you.” rafe says with a grunt, smashing your lips together in a kiss that steals your air just as much as his hand around your neck. 

“it feels so good.” you cry, pleasure sparking as he pulls at your nipple before switching to the other one, his cock pushing against your sweet spot with every thrust.

“yeah?” rafe laughs harshly. “gonna cum on my cock? i told you that you would baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t-” you sob, tears flowing down your face, unable to hold back your orgasm even though you’d like to. your entire body shakes as rafe is unforgiving with his thrusts, bending and licking at your face, collecting the salty tears from your cheeks with his rough tongue. 

“cum for me.” rafe grunts, pulling away to kneel between your legs, pulling your hips up off the bed to keep a deep angle as he smashes into you. “i said, cum for me!” the anger in rafes voice pushes you over the edge, scared of what he will do if you don’t follow his directions, your high washing over you, and for a second you feel like you’re floating over your body as pleasure takes over, until the sharp pain of overstimulation greets you as rafe continues to fuck you.

“please.” you try to shove him away, but he just smacks your hands away like they’re nothing more than an annoying little bug. you try next to squeeze your thighs together, but it clenches your sore cunt at the same time, making rafe moan.

“gonna cum in you.” rafe says, moving a hand to your clit, rubbing over it harshly with his palm.

“stop, stop!” you shout, your back arching and heels pushing against the bed as you try to get away from it, the overwhelmingly good feeling turning quickly to displeasure.

“never gonna stop, baby.” rafe grinds his dick inside of you, not caring for your pleasure. “now that you know who i am, i’m going to have to keep coming back here every night and fucking you silly so you can’t tell anyone.” “i won’t tell, i promise.” you try to look at rafe, but your tears cloud your vision. “i promise, rafe, please, just stop.”

you know your words aren’t what convinces him, but rather your pussy squeezing his cock, causing him to shoot his load deep inside of you as he moans, keeping your hips pushed firmly against his body. you whine as you feel him flood your insides, of course he didn’t use any protection, and you’re not on birth control, but you can’t even begin to think of the implications as long as rafe kneels over you.

“good girl.” rafe hums, patting your lower tummy as he slowly pulls out, cum falling in dollops onto your comforter.

“r-rafe.” you whimper as he lays down next to you. 

“shh, baby.” he pushes your hair out of your face, leaning over your body and giving you a light kiss on the lips. your eyes fluttering closed in pure exhaustion. “i told you i won’t kill you. go to sleep. i’ll be here in the morning. i’ll always be here.” 

you don’t protest as rafe pulls you into him, your body is too tired to move away from the murderer. you rest your head against his chest, still slick with sweat from fucking you. 

“are you going to keep killing?” you ask quietly. you’re unsure if he hears you, as the minutes tick by, the silence of the room now deafening. “i either keep killing them or i kill you.” rafe finally says, making you shudder. “which would you rather it be?”

guilt pangs in your chest as you whisper your response, “keep killing them.”

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[gold-dustwomxn]

mystified

part 4

summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

cw: violence, alcohol consumption, smoking weed, smut mdni!!!!

oral (e receiving), strap (r receiving)

angst fluff and smut

a loud chiming paired with vibrations has you jumping up, hand pressed flat against your racing heart. your rude alarm blares into your ear as you groan into your pillow. shit never fails to scare you half to death time every single time. as you lay in your bed and wipe away the sleep from your eyes, your mind floods with ellie ellie ellie. you’ve been with her practically everyday and you can’t seem to get enough of her. she’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep.

ellie🌿🗡️: Morning babe. I hope you have a good day. Try to pay attention in class instead of texting me. I’ll see you later🖤

me: good morninggg💗 i’ll try my best for u 🫡 try not to get injured at work again

you giggle and feel those butterflies in your stomach again. it’s pathetic how giddy she makes you feel from a simple text.

dina🤍: are u and ellie coming to the party tonight? istg if u say no

me: uggh idk. u know I hate those college parties

dina🤍: cmonnn u guys never come out. youve both been holed up in a lesbian fuck fest for like 2 weeks straight

me: LMAO stfu. fine I’ll ask ellie if she wants to go

ellie grudgingly agrees to go to said party for your sake, and because she’s been neglecting her friendship with jesse just a little bit— too preoccupied with wanting to spend as much time as possible with you, and you her.

she decides she’ll stay sober for the night so she can drive and keep an eye on you. as you walk into the party hand in hand, you’re flooded with an overwhelming stench of alcohol and weed, strobing lights and music so loud that you feel the bass thumping in your chest. it’s too fucking crowded and hot. you need a drink to loosen up.

“well, well, well, would you look at who the cat dragged in.” jesse smirks at the two of you, receiving a double eye roll from both you and ellie. “who the fuck speaks like that anymore jesse?” ellie says with a laugh. “just good to see you alive in the flesh and all.” dina giggles and attacks you with a warm hug.

she steals your attention away from ellie, fiddling with your shirt with a goofy smirk. you laugh and narrow your eyes, “what is it?” dina leans in closer to whisper, “so, what’s the deal with you two.. are you official yet?”

you look at ellie to make sure she isn’t watching and whisper, “no, we haven’t.. labeled anything? I don’t know.. I mean, I do wanna make it official, but I don’t wanna scare her away, you know? kinda just letting it play out and see what happens.”

she looks at you, unamused. “stop being a pussy, you guys have been in love with each other for years. It’s not like she’s some random girl that you just met.” you roll your eyes, “relaxxx, it’ll happen when it happens.” dina laughs and shakes her head, “whatever you say. I need another drink.”

as she walks over to mix a gross concoction of god knows what, your eyes drift back to ellie who is preoccupied, deep in conversation with jesse. your eyes wander over every inch of her, biting your lip. her muscles are pulled taut against her flannel, jeans tight around her thighs, intoxicating green eyes glowing from the flashing lights in the room. one drink has you so fucking horny, it’s ridiculous.

ellie catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, “you good, babe?” she chuckles. you look away, trying to save face. “yup, I’m feeling good. can you come with me to the bathroom?” she nods with no hesitation, innocently thinking that you just want her to stick close by.

as soon as the door closes, you pull her tightly against you by the loopholes of her jeans and slam your lips into hers. she freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly catches up, slipping her tongue into your mouth with a groan and sliding her hands down to squeeze your ass.

she then tugs at your hair, pulling your head back, breathless and takes a look at your glossy eyes, and down at your swollen lips. “what do you think you’re doing, huh?” she rasps out, smirking. you lean in, placing wet, needy kisses on her neck, pawing and squeezing at her biceps, “I wanna go down on you so bad right now.” you practically whine in her ear.

she chuckles, “right now? in here?” she looks around the bathroom, scrunching up her face. “we’ve been here for like a half hour, babe.”

you cup her through her jeans, watching her breath get heavy, “c’mon, don’t you wanna feel my mouth on you?” you pout.

she removes your hand and pulls you tight against her, brushing your hair to the side, placing a kiss on your neck. you whimper as she licks a slow stripe up to the sweet spot behind you ear, giving it a small suck.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me and wait until later.” she whispers into the shell of your ear, making you shudder. you mentally curse her for having more self control than you, while ellie mentally curses herself because she’s horny as fuck now, but loves teasing you. “ugh, fine, ellie.” she chuckles and pats your cheek, leaning in to give you one more lingering kiss.

dina being dina convinces you to take multiple shots of tequila with her while ellie stands with jesse watching the both of you dance, laughing in amusement at the two of you.

as the night goes on, you start to stumble. ellie grabs onto you, “hey, baby, I think it’s time you lay off the drinks now, huh?” she chuckles at you. you wrap your arms around her neck and nod, “mhmm, I’m getting tired. can we leave soon?” you slur out. she nods, wrapping her arms around your waist, “yeah, we can go now.”

after you say your goodbyes to dina and jesse, you walk behind ellie, trying to make your way through the sea of bodies to head out.

all of a sudden, you feel a hand squeeze your ass and you gasp, stumbling into ellie. you turn around and see a guy grinning, reeking of booze. “don’t fucking touch me!”

ellie turns around and takes in the scene, her face morphing into one of rage. she places you behind her and shoves him hard against his chest. “back the fuck up,” she grits out.

he laughs mockingly. “oh, what, is this your bitch?” time seems to stop for a moment, a chill traveling down your spine as you watch her face drop, making you suddenly feel stone cold sober.

ellie punches him square in the face, making him stumble back. people begin to move out the way, circling them, whooping and hollering as if it’s a fucking show.

he lunges at her, trying to hit back. she catches his wrist and twists his arm, as she elbows him in the face, making him fall down and grab his now seemingly broken nose.

your jaw drops as you watch ellie climb on top of him, knee to his chest as she throws punch after punch. “ellie! stop!” she doesn’t hear you, doesn’t even seem to be present in her own body.

jesse hears the commotion and runs into the room. he grabs ellie, trying to pull her off of him “ellie, stop! you got him! you’re gonna get arrested if you don’t stop!”

ellie stands up, chest heaving as she flexes and shakes out her aching hand, knuckles bloody. she looks at you, her gaze softening with guilt as she takes in your upset demeanor.

you look around at all of the people staring, and grab ellie’s arm. “c’mon, we’re leaving. now.” she looks at you as you swiftly walk ahead of her to her car. “I’m sorry-“

you cut her off, “ellie, what the fuck?! you can’t just go around beating the shit out of people like that.”

she huffs and throws her arms up in the air defensively, looking as if she was about to speak, but stops herself.

“you looked like you were gonna kill him.”

she scoffs “I wasn’t gonna kill him.” you turn to look at her, “well, if jesse hadn’t been able to stop you, who knows what would’ve happened.”

she looks down at her tattoo and rubs the skin, “guys like him need to learn that they can’t get away with shit like that! and... and seeing him look so fucking proud of himself… looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat.”

you observe her digging her nails into her tattoo and realize where her mind is drifting off to. you stop walking and grab her face, speaking softly. “look at me. I’m safe and you’re safe. I understand that you wanna protect me, but you can’t lose it like that, okay? you need to learn to walk away unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

she looks between your eyes and nods, grabbing gently onto one of your wrists. “okay. I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s over now. everything’s okay.” you nod at her slowly and lean in to peck her lips. “c’mon, let’s go back to your place so I can clean you up.”

“you don’t have to-“ you cut her off with a semi-serious glare and she nods.

on the drive home, she rubs your thigh softly and takes small glances at you. she chews on her bottom lip anxiously, thinking about how you’re able to ground her. her chest tightens with shame— you shouldn’t have to deal with her issues.

ellie stands between your legs as you sit on top of the sink, cleaning her knuckles gently with deep concentration. she watches you and thinks about how she’s falling for you, hard. she’s never felt this way about someone before and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t scare her a little. her thoughts are interrupted as you finish and kiss the inside of her wrist. she gives you a soft smile when you look up at her and leans in to kiss you, “thanks, babe.”

ellie plucks away at her guitar as she smokes a joint while you lay there sipping on water and watch her in comfortable silence. unbeknownst to you, her mind races, picturing the look on your face after she basically bashed that guys face in.

she doesn’t think she deserves someone good and sweet like you. the idea of letting you go fucking crushes her, but it’s better to let you decide if you wanna end things now before the two of you get more serious, as if you’re both not in deep already.

she takes a hit of her joint and places her guitar to the side, laying a shaky palm on your thigh. “hey... I’m sorry about earlier.” you shake your head, “it’s okay, I promise. I’m not upset anymore.”

she looks down for a moment before looking back at you, “it’s just... you don’t deserve to have to deal with my bullshit. I understand if you don’t wanna… do this anymore.” she gestures between the two of you and fidgets nervously with her fingers.

you sit up quickly and grab her hand, stroking her knuckles. “is that what you want?” she looks at your teary eyes and shakes her head immediately. “no, no, it’s not what I want. but I want you to do what’s best for you.”

“ellie, I really like you. I’m not afraid of baggage, you don’t have to push me away.”

she looks at you, unconvinced. “I’m a fucking mess, ___. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it yet, but I’m not the easiest person to be around sometimes.”

“and you know what’s best for me?”

“no, I’m not saying that. I just-” she throws her hands up, trying to figure out how to convey what she’s feeling.

“you’re not some broken, cold hearted person, ellie. I can decide for myself what’s good for me. you’re good for me.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” she whispers, eyes tearing up.

you inch closer to her on your hands and knees and give her a soft, lingering kiss.

“then, don’t.” you whisper against her lips and pull back.

she looks back at you in silence for a few moments in a daze, completely enamored with you.

you give her a teary smile and let your words settle in for her, “plus, it’s kinda hot seeing you like that. you still haven’t taught me more self defense moves like you said you would, you know.” you laugh trying to make her feel better. she lets out a weak chuckle and shakes her head.

“no, but seriously,” you place your palm on her cheek to keep eye contact, making sure she takes in your sincerity, “I lo- like you.. a lot and I wanna be with you, okay? we all have our issues. you’ll have to stick around if you wanna see mine,” you smile. ellie’s ears perk up, wondering if she was just imagining that you almost said you love her. she chuckles and nods, “okay,” she whispers, “so does this mean you wanna be my girlfriend then?”

you look at her in mock offense, “is that how you’re gonna ask me?”

she laughs, “okay, okay.” she clears her throat and straightens out her back. “___, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

you can’t help but laugh at her attempt to be serious. “yeah, I’ll be your girl.”

she gives you a wide grin and cups your face, giving you a passionate kiss.

you both pull away breathless. “you know.. I think we should consummate this relationship.”

she laughs and raises an eyebrow, “oh yeah? and how’s that?”

“well.. for one, I didn’t get to do what I wanted to earlier.”

“mhmm, you are right about that. go ahead baby.”

as ellie lays on her back, you kiss along her stomach down her v-line to her inner thighs, each kiss making her muscles tense up.

“c’mon, enough teasing.” she huffs, breath heavy with glossy eyes.

you shake your head in defiance and she grabs onto your jaw. “be good.” she says sternly, but strokes your cheek gently with her thumb.

she watches you lick a stripe up her wet folds and her eyes roll back, letting out a shaky breath.

“s-stick your tongue out, baby.”

you flatten your tongue and she takes a fistful of your hair, slowly bucking her hips against your face. “jesus.. fuck. love your fucking mouth so much.”

looking up at her with doe eyes, you moan, and she grunts, “s-so perfect for me. making me feel so good, baby.”

you bob your head up and down with her thrusts, and suck hard on her clit, making her whimper unwillingly. “oh fuuuuck. good fucking girl, don’t stop.”

she grips your hair tighter and grinds faster against your face, head falling back into the pillows and swallowing hard. “gonna cum.. fuck!”

finally her body seizes up, her hole clenching around your tongue as her arousal seeps into your mouth. “holy fuck.” she breathes out shakily. “fuckin-“ she grunts, “swallow all of it.” she holds your head in place, rocking slowly as you happily lap up every inch of her cum. “yeah.. good girl.” you pull back and brush your fingers over her thighs with a love drunk smile.

she pants and looks down at you with furrowed brows, swiping her thumb across your glossy lips, spreading around her slick and your saliva before sticking her thumb into your mouth. you suck on it and she closes her eyes, sighing.

you climb on top of her, kissing her deeply, both of you moaning into the kiss. “wait,” she pulls back.

“what?” you whine at the loss of her lips against yours.

she chuckles and sits up, opening her nightstand drawer and pulls out a box. “how would you feel if I used this on you?”

you examine the unopened box and your eyes widen when you see what’s inside, making your thighs squeeze together. “yeah-yes.” you stutter.

she laughs and traps you with her legs to flip you on your back, “yes, what?”

you yelp and giggle, “you can use it on me.” she grins and leans in to kiss you.

after ellie coaxes multiple orgasms out of you with her mouth and fingers, she gets up to grab the strap, adjusting the harness around her. “okay, you sure you want it?”

you swallow hard in nervousness and excitement. “y-yeah I want it. just go slow.”

she leans down and gives you a soft kiss. “of course, baby.”

ellie lubes up the dildo and strokes the shaft before settling between your shaky legs, giving them small kisses. “you nervous?” you nod, “mhm, a little.”

she caresses your thighs and gives them gentle squeezes, “it’s okay, I’ll be gentle and if you want me to stop just tell me, okay?” you nod, “okay.”

as she slides the strap up and down your folds, you let out a whimper and spread your legs further apart. she has to bite down hard on her lip to hold back a moan.

“you ready?”

“yeah,” your breath gets heavier in anticipation.

she slowly inches her way in while rubbing small circles on your clit, eyes focused on your face. when your eyes start to tear up, she leans down and peppers soft kisses all over your face. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

as she bottoms out, you both moan in unison. “you okay?”

“y-yes, you can move.”

ellie starts out with a slow pace, rolling her hips into you, gradually going deeper and harder with each thrust. she feels her own arousal pooling as she watches your face twist in pleasure and the view of your cunt sucking her in.

“fuck, ellie, g-go faster please,” you moan out. ellie smirks at your words, "my pleasure, sweet girl."

she wraps your legs around her waist and starts to increase the pace and vigor of her thrusts, pounding into you hard and fast. you can feel every inch of her as she slides in and out of you, filling you up with such intensity that has you moaning uncontrollably. she groans “you look so fucking good like this,” leaning down to kiss you messily, panting into each other mouths.

she watches you with heavy lids, drunk off of the sounds of your moans and the wet sounds of your cunt. “feels good, pretty girl?”

“mmph. so good, ellie. so good.”

as she starts to increase her pace even more, you grip onto her shoulders tightly, pulling her chest to yours, sinking your nails into her skin.

“taking me s-so fucking well baby, knew you could do it.” she feels herself getting lost in her own pleasure as the base of the strap bumps against her clit just right.

your body starts to tremble against hers, with ellie having to work harder to thrust in and out of you, your moans turning into high-pitched whimpers, and she knows you’re close.

“el-ellie! fuck, I’m gonna-” she holds onto you tightly and watches you as you slip into ecstasy, and can’t help but moan herself. she thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking like this. and that view alone is enough to make her eyes roll back, triggering her own orgasm. her hips sputter as she slaps into you, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

she lifts her head and lets out ragged breaths, her eyes glazed over, “you did so good for me, baby.” she kisses your forehead gently.

leaning on her elbows, she stares down at you, eyes mapping out every inch of your face, completely infatuated.

“I lo-“ she stops herself, it’s too early to say I love you. or is it? you’ve known each other for years, and she could’ve sworn you almost said it earlier. she decides against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

you run your hand through her hair and brush your nose against hers, “say it,” you whisper. she looks between your eyes and swallows thickly.

“I love you,” she whispers shakily.

you lift your head, slotting your lips against hers in a slow, passionate kiss.

“I love you, too.”

tysm for reading ily all 💗💗

taglist: @me-and-your-husband @fireflyels @cinnamonmilf

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #emmysfics #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader

[catsfor2]

hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

#ellie x reader #ellie fic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #lesbian #tlou fic #tlou #tlou part 2 #catsfor2

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter eight: silver lining

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Series trope: Fake dating 

Chapter eight summary: Going to a ball with Enzo, you play a game to keep things interesting. 1k words.

Warning: Fluff, no use of y/n, suggestive.

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“My lady,” Enzo smiles at me, arm outstretched to take my hand, the other poised behind him.

I giggle and take his hand. “Why, thank you my lord.”

We walk up the stairs into the ornate ballroom, glistening in white and gold. The place is flush with velvet, silk, and other fineries adorning the room and guests with their bright smiles and heads held high. 

“It’s been years since I’ve been to one of these,” I remark, taking in the grandeur.

“I promise it will be a fun evening,” Enzo reassures me. “Why has it been so long?”

“My mother loved these events and used to take me with her all the time,” I smile at the memory. “When she passed away, her memory haunted me whenever I tried to go. It wasn’t the same anymore. She was radiant, Enzo. An unforgettable woman,” I gush.

“She must be,” he agrees, “to have such a wonderful daughter take after her.”

I lean into him, “oh come now, no one will hear our conversation. No need to say that for The Book.”

“Okay,” he says, “but I mean it.”

I grab a champagne flute to try to hide my blush.

After greeting everyone we knew, we settle into a corner of the ballroom. “So how exactly are we going to make it fun?” I ask.

“Let’s play a game of guess the conversation. Let’s pick people chatting together and try and guess what they’re saying based on how their lips move.”

The champagne fizzing on my tongue makes me bold. “What if we take it to the next level? Would you be able to guess what I say if I move my lips against yours?”

Enzo meets my eyes and visibly blushes. I grin at him, “maybe that’s should be our game,” I say, moving my lips to his ear. “Who can make each other blush the most?”

Mischief glints at the corner of his eye, “oh you’re on.”

“May I have this dance?” He asks as the music starts up.

We make our way to the dance floor and join the crowd. Enzo places his hand on my waist and holds my other hand. I rest my free hand on his shoulder and we move to the music.

“I’ll go first,” Enzo says. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

“Okay, new rule. You must only say what’s true and not for the sake of the game. Deal?”

“Sure,” he agrees. “I still stand by what I said.”

“Well you’re not too bad either in that suit. You look very princely, but I bet those clothes would look better on the bedroom floor.”

He chuckles, “oh we’re going there? Well, I think if you call me a prince…instead of calling you my princess, would you rather I call you a good girl?”

“Hmm that depends, you can’t call me a good girl when I want to do bad things to you.”

Enzo closes his eyes and groans. “You know bad girls get punished, how would you like to learn your lesson?”

“Using mnemonics,” I quip. “Which, as we’ve established, is not a made up word.”

Enzo laughs at my change in subject. “Thanks for coming here with me tonight. Now everyone in high society knows I’ve claimed you as mine.”

“Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I did not wink, unless you’d like me to?” 

I smirk and focus on our dance. Beneath the glowing chandelier and the intoxicating buzz of champagne in my veins, it’s getting more and more difficult to rein in my restraints.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

“Thank you,” I tell Enzo after he walks me to my dorm.

“I should be thanking you, this phase of The Book is a success.”

“A lot of words were said tonight,” I begin and Enzo blushes at the memory.

“We don’t have to actually do anything, words can just be words,” he says gently.

I nod and wish him good night. As he turns and takes a few steps away from me, I hesitate. “Wait, Enzo.”

He looks back at me expectantly.

“Will you help me with my dress? It’s quite complicated to untie by myself.” 

He visibly gulps and nods as I lead him to my dorm.

After closing the door, Enzo moves behind me and starts working on untying my gown. String by string, pieces of silk come undone at his touch. I feel his warm breath at the nape of my neck and welcome the sparks of electricity that bloom where his skin grazes mine. I remind myself to breathe.

In the darkness of my room, alone again with Enzo in our own world, I can no longer keep lying to myself. “Enzo,” I breathe out, surprised by how touch starved my voice sounds.

“Yes?” He replies in an equally breathless voice.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess. His fingers freeze at my sudden declaration as he waits for me to go on.

I turn around and meet his eyes, “when this all started a few months ago, I was angry and looking to get revenge on Mattheo. I never expected -” I falter and gather myself.

“I never expected to get to know this amazing guy who’s funny, kind and is the best fake boyfriend. I never expected I could feel happy again after everything that happened. Enzo?”

“Hmm?” He asks encouragingly.

“You’re my silver lining.”

Enzo’s face lights up at my confession, “I thought I was the only one who felt something.”

I shake my head, “how could I not? I feel at home with you.”

He smiles, “falling for me, dear?”

I laugh, leaning into him, “actually yes, I am Enzo.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “I caught you, darling,” he says and we both giggle at how cheesy we sound.

When we pull apart, I look into his eyes and admit, “Enzo, I want this to be real.”

“I think it’s been real to me for a while,” he confesses. 

I smile and kiss him. Just like that, the sweetness of the moment is ignited with heat.

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A/N: Alexa, play Dress by Taylor Swift. The next chapter will be pure smut!

Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf @helpimhopelesslyinlove

#lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #slytherin x reader #slytherin x slytherin #amongemeraldcloudswrites

[violentnewmarley]

can u write something where reader and bill have been together since they were kids and like they had their first kiss together and everything else as they get older and they are like super shy around eachother when talking abt sex and stuff thank u❤️❤️

Convenient.

Bill kaulitz x Fem!reader<3 (smut omg)

Tysm for requesting! I hope u don’t mind that I made it a smut, I just thought it was the best direction yk😵‍💫 Also I might like change my writing style but I’ll make a separate post abt that XD

warnings/content: smut (18+), switch!bill,softdom!bill,switch!reader,pinv,unprotected sex,foreplay,Alcohol use,i think that’s all?

• You had been dating Bill kaulitz since you were both young, but as you both got older and more (hormonal?😰) jokes and conversations surronding sex made you nervous. that aside- you and Bill had already shared many firsts, so why not add to the list?

Of course all of the other band members had picked up on the sexual tension and shy moments shared between the two of you. Tom knew it wasn’t likely for either you or bill to adress the awkwardness. So of course he disided to do it himself .

You were spending the night at the kaulitz twins, along with Georg and gustav. No parents were at the house, just you and the boys sitting in the living room drinking and laughing over dumb shit.

Tom took a sip from his beer and sighed “We should play something, try to make it more interesting” “Like what?” asked your perfect pookie pie princess boyfriend (sorry i didn’t know what to say😇)

“Maybe like truth or dare? That one’s a classic” said tom in response. Some time passed and Each of you did a few truths and dares, although nothing was too crazy.

You sat next to bill kept your head leaning against his shoulder, his hand in yours, and It soon became your turn again. Tom took a sip of his beer glaring at you and bill, you could see the intoxication on his face.

“Truth or dare y/n” you hesitate and think for a moment, scared of what he might say for either choice.

“Uhm- truth..?” You shrug, Giving him a half smile. Tom looks down and laughs, making you more nervous. He quickly looks back up trying not to laugh. “Have you and bill fucked yet?” You feel bills grip on your hand tighten. he gives Tom a half pissed/ half embarrassed stare. you bury your face onto the side of his arm wishing you could just hide.

Tom, Georg, and gustav all burst out into laughter. You and Bill start laughing as well, but it was more out of embarrassment and awkwardness than amusement.

Gustav interrupts the laughter smiling at Tom “you already know the answer to that Tom. God your horrible” causing them to laugh even more obnoxiously. But Gustav was right, Tom 100% knew, so he had purpously put you and Bill on the spot.

You all quickly got over it, and agreed on watching a movie in the living room. Although it didn’t take very long for everyone to fall asleep, except for you and Bill (ofc😉) you turn to him, finally realizing you were the only ones awake “could we maybe go to your room instead?” His face lights up. “Yeah, sure”

you shut the door as you walk into Bills room. He flops face first onto his bed and you follow, lying beside him. You place a few kisses to the back of his neck. He looks up at you and laughs, moving onto his side and grabbing the back of your head, Bill presses his soft lips against yours.

It doesn’t long until the two of you are full on making out. Bill kept you pinned down on your side, legs intertwined. Until all of a sudden he pulls away from the kiss. “you remember what Tom said earlier?” His voice was soft and raspy, and you could tell through his tone that he was nervous. “Uh yea, why?”

“well I mean like I was kinda wondering if-“ you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to ask “yes.” You both smile, bringing your lips back together.

He didn’t particularly plan for tonight to be the night you both lost your virginity, but it seemed like the perfect time. He wanted to take it slow, so he started with moving his knee closer to your crotch. slowly jutting it against your core.

you moaned into his mouth, very much caught by surprise. he giggled, making you laugh too. Diving straight back into eachothers lips, Bill moved his hand to the bottom on your t shirt. Pushing his hand under the fabric, his finger tips grazed past your nipples as he slowly massaged your breast. “Billy I need you.” A smile creept up onto his lips as he pulled from the kiss “Oh, really?” you nod looking at him. “yes.”

“Liebe… we really don’t have to”

“I want to.” You smile up at Bill and He places a quick kiss on your lips before sitting up to remove his clothes, followed by yours. He takes a second looking at your body before laying back on top of you, muttering sweet complements and praises between gentle kisses.

Unsurprisingly followed by another heated makout but this time was different. Bills body was so close to yours, his erect member was teasing your slick hole. (HELP WHAT💀) you wanted him inside of you so bad.

“I wanna ride you” you pant. “Please do.” you quickly switch positions, straddling Bills lap with his hands rested on your waist. You raise up your hips, hovering over his cock. you cupped his chin giving him a kiss. “Please” Bill whimpers.

you smile, “please what?” his soft chocolate eyes looking up into yours. “Please fuck me y/n.”

your lips smash together, Gasping and Moaning into each others mouths as you set yourself down into his cock. You began moving slow, allowing yourself to ajust to his size, but sped up pretty quickly, his tip hitting your g-spot so good.🤨

soft whines and whimpers escaped his lips from the feat you felt, so tight and wet (wtf) “You feel so good ” Bill looked up at you, admiring your pretty expressions, his lips parted and eyebrows knitted close together.

Bill burys his head into your neck, moving one of his hands down to your clit, using his thumb to rub soft circles against it as you grind down onto his cock. The feeling sent a shock throughout your entire body.

you loudly moan, making Bill smirk into your neck, and you felt his cold tongue piecing run up the side of your neck, by him placing sloppy kisses behind your jaw. You grip his long black locks, holding him closer.

Bill speeds up his pace against your clit, and you can feel your orgasm approaching “m'gonna cum- .” he continues rubbing, whimpering in your ear. taking you over the edge as you cum around his cock.

your wetness makes Bill reach his high very quickly. you fall to his side and rub his cock with your hand, his cheeks tint red and back arches, spilling his own seed onto his stomach. You kneel down and lick it up, kissing your way back up to his lips.

you can feel bills warm breath on yours as you lay in each other's arms "you did so good baby, i love you." Laughter escaping both you lips “I love you too billy.”

im so sorry if this isnt very good and is like lowkey cringe af, i literally have no brain cells left </3 ALSO IDK IF ITS JUST ME RN BUT IM SO HORNY FOR HALLOWEEN AND CHRISTMAS OMFG😩 ive been watching reels nonstop cuz im so excited.

💟 @fishinaband @mikalame @nyxwritesshit @bbvoxstar

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #pop rock #tom kaulitz #y2k goth #kaulitz twins #pop punk #bill kaulitz x reader #y2k #bill kaulitz fluff #y2k emo #emo girl #emo boy #early 2000s #gothic #fanfic #tokio hotel fanfic #tokiohotel #tokio hotel x reader #billkaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #tomkaulitz #violentnewmarley #emo couple #georglisting #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer x reader #georg listing #goth

[melodygatesauthor]

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

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[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iii

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chapter summary: Somehow, you realize you've accidentally ended up spending almost every weekend for the last month and a half with either one, or all of the Millers. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.7k chapter warnings: some angst, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts (but no smut), referenced parental neglect, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues (shocker!) & a fear of intimacy. a/n: this chapter is so disgustingly sweet it might give you a cavity. truly. but its also a little self-indulgent because joel is in my dream blunt rotation :/ please be patient with updates because i have a career/social life/apartment, and am a perfectionist! i promise i will always (try) to make the wait worth your while. Also, here's a link to the song Joel plays on guitar, since it's not on Spotify so I couldn't add it to the playlist.

-April 19, 2003- 

“Well, that was awkward.”

Obviously, Joel thinks to himself as Sarah turns to watch the retreating form of her teacher, while Joel stares straight ahead at the crowd in front of him. At first, he had thought she was just being polite. It was the right thing to do, to say hello to a parent and a student if you see them outside of class. But…they were seeing each other at a bar. And she’d asked him to dance. 

We just got here, maybe later? Joel can’t even remember what he had said, something along those lines. It wasn’t a flat-out refusal, but he had been acutely aware of Sarah’s eyes boring into the back of his head from where she sat beside him, and he sort of blacked out, couldn’t recall what had caused her to get the hint, to walk away. 

Joel grunts an affirmation to Sarah, and drums his fingers against the tabletop. There’s a dance floor full of people in front of him, all under various levels of intoxication, all of them dancing. 

“Do you believe me now?” Sarah asks. 

“I never said I didn’t believe you.”

How he had allowed Tommy and Sarah to talk him into coming here tonight, he’s not sure. Probably, it had something to do with how much he loved them both. How he would, ultimately, do whatever they asked if he knew it’d make that happy. But still, honky-tonking is the last thing he wants to be doing at the end of a long week. 

There was pretty much only one decent bar in town, so he wasn’t exactly shocked he had run into someone he knew. Everyone came here – to dance, to drink, to eat, or to drown their sorrows. To see their friends, or even to find someone to take home for the night. And over the years, as a frequent customer, Joel had used this place to do all those things.

Tonight was special though, a little more family friendly. It was swing night. It happened once a month, and Joel had always made a point to take Sarah a couple times a year. When he was young, his mother had taught him and Tommy to dance, and he felt it was only appropriate to pass the skill along, even if it was almost obsolete. He hoped Sarah would be able to do the same someday, if she ever had children of her own. 

“Will you dance with me, at least?” Sarah asks.

“Of course I will,” Joel answers.. “But let’s wait for Tommy, he’s ordering our drinks.”

“You mean your drinks.”

“No, you got a Shirley Temple.”

Sarah narrows her eyes. It’s the same expression that Joel has only seen her use recently, and he actually prefers it less to the eye roll. This time, he’s glad it hasn’t come with a question from her, because when it does, it’s always a little more frightening. “Come on, you know that’s not the same.”

Before Joel can respond, he’s cut off by Tommy’s voice. 

“Look who I found.”

This is what he and Sarah have been waiting on, and Joel turns to sees Tommy with all three of their drinks in hand. Over his shoulder, there’s a woman who looks vaguely familiar, wearing daisy dukes and a plaid shirt. After a second, he realizes it’s you.

Most of the time when Joel sees you – from across the street, of course – you’re in a power suit, a pencil skirt. Sometimes, it’s more casual – athletic clothes. There was also that black silk robe he can’t seem to shake from his memory. But this is so…different. It’s clear you’re trying to blend in with the crowd, but you don’t. Not because you’re not pulling it off – you definitely are, effortlessly – he’s just pretty sure if he walks into any room you’re in, his eyes will always be drawn in your direction. 

Joel doesn’t see, but rather feels – Sarah recognize that you’re in front of her, because when she does, she’s tapping him on the arm before he can utter a greeting. “Dad, can I get out and say hi?”

He’s standing to let her out just as you step closer to the table, and you come chest to chest. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hi, Joel,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes remain locked on his just a moment too long, before Sarah is wrapping you up in a hug, and you’re focused on her when she draws back. “How are you?” you ask. 

Joel doesn’t hear Sarah’s response, because his brother is pressing a drink into his hand - a Jack and Coke, same as what you and Tommy are drinking. 

“Sit down, please!” Tommy encourages.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “This looks like a family thing, I don’t want to-” 

“Please!” Sarah exclaims. 

“What she said,” Tommy seconds Sarah’s sentiments.

For a second, you seem to contemplate the offer, and then you accept the invitation, sliding into the booth across from where Sarah has settled back next to her father. Joel makes eye contact with his brother, sitting next to you. Tommy’s eyebrows are raised suggestively, and there’s a playful smirk on his face when he tilts his head in your direction. Joel gives him nothing, already irritated by his brother’s goading. 

“Is that a Shirley Temple?” you point to Sarah’s drink. When she nods, you continue. “I haven’t had one of those in forever,” you say. 

“Want a sip?”

“Sure,” Sarah slides the glass across to you, and you sip from the straw, pondering. “I should’ve gotten one of those instead. They were my favorite growing up.” 

“Can I have a sip of yours?”

“No,” you and Joel say at the same time. 

“You’re not gonna like it,” he adds.

“You always say that, but how can you know?”

Joel sighs. “Okay, fine. Try mine.”

Sarah seems pleased to get what she wants. When the bitterness of the whiskey registers, the triumphant expression leaves her face completely. 

“Told you,” he says. Sarah grimaces, accepting defeat, and returns to her beverage. 

Tommy leans forward, urging Joel to start making conversation as if this is a date and it’s his responsibility. But before he can think of anything, Sarah pipes up. 

“Guess what?” she asks you.

“What?”

“My teacher’s here.”

“Yeah?” you ask. Joel takes a long pull off his drink, hoping it’ll loosen him up a little. 

“Yeah, she tried to hit on my dad.”

Joel feels the cocktail of whiskey and soda get caught in his throat.

“Oh….” you sound intrigued, and you lean forward. He wonders if this is the dynamic between you and Sarah when he’s not around. Like you’re two friends, engaging in some harmless gossip. “Really?” Your gaze flickers between him and Sarah. 

Sarah bobs her head once. “She has a thing for him. I can tell.”

“What makes you think that?” his brother joins in, moving closer to Sarah, crowding you between himself and the wall and putting his elbows on the table. Joel feels a flash of envy when you shift your attention towards Tommy.

“She just asked him to dance.” Sarah looks over her shoulder, nods her head towards the woman in the corner of the bar who’s probably already focused on his table anyways. Joel already knows what you’re seeing. Miss Davis is pretty, bubbly, outgoing. Probably about your age, if he had to guess, though it’s hard to say how old you are. He imagines he has ten years on you, give or take a few. And for all intents and purposes, Sarah’s teacher is the type of woman he should be interested in. 

“She’s pretty,” you say it like you’re appeasing Sarah, but you’re looking directly at Joel. He’s not sure why you kind of frighten him a little. You’re sweet, he knows, even if you’ve tried to tell him otherwise. But there’s something else there, enigmatic and alluring, that continues to draw him in. 

Tommy chimes in. “So are you gonna dance with her, Joel?”

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says dramatically. Her face drops for a second, though, her shoulders slumping as she angles herself towards him, lowers her voice. “I mean, if you want to, that’s fine, I guess. But I….I don’t know.”

Joel is taken aback by how long this conversation has gone on with absolutely no input from himself. Not to mention how honest Sarah is being. She doesn’t usually have much to say about his choice in women – he can usually just tell what she thinks. For her to express something so directly makes him realize how serious she is. But at the moment, he can’t find words to assure her everything will be fine. 

It must be his lack of response that causes you to lean across the table and speak to Sarah. “You know, that’s valid,” there’s a tenderness to your tone. It dawns on him that you’re trying to comfort her. “It is kind of a conflict of interest.”

“Right?” Sarah perks up, just slightly, you’ve given her some support. “It’s one of those things you said you had going on at work the other day an….an ethical…” 

“An ethical dilemma?” you finish her thought.

“Ethical dilemma! That’s it.” Sarah turns back towards Joel. “I think it's an ethical dilemma.” 

For just a split second, he wonders why he’s been letting his already-precocious child hang out regularly with a lawyer. He’s accidentally creating a monster. But thankfully, Joel is finally able to find his voice. “There is no ethical dilemma, because I wouldn’t ever consider it.”

That seems to placate Sarah, and hopefully everyone will decide to drop it. Joel catches your eyes, and there’s something akin to wistfulness there, chin propped on your hand, before you blink once and focus back on Tommy, who's asking you a question. “So, are you here alone?”

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Not at all,” Tommy smirks, not dropping his eye contact with you. “...It’s just surprising, is all.”

Joel stiffens.

“Oh, well…” you smile a little. “I’m just trying to get to know the town a little better. Trying to engage in the community, I guess. But…I’m not sure if I am doing that great of a job fitting in.”

“You are,” Joel interjects, and maybe it’s a little forward, but he’d rather say it before Tommy does. “That’s a nice flannel.”

“Thanks,” You look down at your oversized plaid shirt – the sleeves rolled up to the elbows – that hangs open over a tight white tank top. Joel can see a sliver of the black lace bra you’re wearing that pokes out above the low neckline. He wonders what it might feel like to press his face there, to feel your fingers carding through his hair, but does not allow himself to entertain the idea for very long. Not the time. “I actually had to go and buy it because I didn’t own any plaid. And by the looks of it,” You gesture towards the dance floor. “I need to invest in some cowboy boots, too.”

“One thing at a time, right?” he asks, and you agree.

“So what are you all doing here? Family outing?”

“We actually had to drag this one kicking and screaming out the door,” Tommy points to Joel. 

“You did not,” Joel defends himself.

‘We kinda did,” Sarah says. “Do you know how to dance?”

You shake your head no, look at the people twirling and dipping and dancing in pairs. “Not like that.”

“It’s really easy! I can teach you. My dad taught me.”

“Cute.” Joel looks towards Sarah, and catches you staring instead. Your eyes flit back immediately to his daughters. “But I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sarah says like it’s already settled. Joel knows he’s spoiled her, that she ultimately gets what she wants. He worries sometimes that others won’t find her quite as endearing. 

“Sarah,” he warns. “You’re making it sound like she doesn’t have a choice.”

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass. “It’s okay. You can teach me. Might as well learn, if I’m trying to fit in.”

Sarah seems satisfied.

“Joel tells me you grew up in New York City.” Tommy says it, and Joel notices you raise your eyebrows at the implication. He’s talked to Tommy about you. And now you know. He’s pissed at himself for doing it, but at the time he’d been drunk, a little more chatty and vulnerable than usual, and had mentioned you more than once. Too much to be a coincidence. The issue was, Joel had never expected you would talk to Tommy again. If he’d known you would, he wouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t want to imagine the damage he had done when it was just the two of you, alone at the bar. But even now, he’s completely at his brother’s mercy. 

“Yep,” you nod. 

“You don’t have much of an accent,” Tommy remarks. 

“Not everyone has them.” 

“That’s fair.”

“I did, uh, go to a boarding school in a different state, though, so I wasn’t around it too much.” 

“Boarding school?” Sarah turns to Joel.

“Basically you live at school,” you answer her question. ”Kind of like college, but earlier. I started going when I was nine.”

Sarah frowns. “Wouldn’t you miss your family?” 

“Yes, and I did.”

“So why would you go?”

“Well…” you trail off, shift your weight. “It wasn’t up to me. My dad worked a lot, so it made sense.”

“What’d he do for a living?” Asks Tommy. 

“He’s a criminal defense attorney....owns his own firm and it does pretty well, so…” you shrug. “He was very busy.”

“And that’s why you’re a lawyer? To work for your dad?”

“At one point, that was the plan, yes."

“What happened?”

The question appears to make you uncomfortable, you cross your legs and glance down at the table. “Uhm….pass.” Joel sees your face go blank for a split second before you look up with an easy smile. It’s like the desolate look you’d been wearing was never there, and you point to your drink. “I’ll need a few more of these if you want that story.”

“Might as well order another round,” Tommy flags down a waitress.

You have one more drink, but you don’t really touch it as the four of you continue to talk. Joel has two more, and Tommy has three, because he’s Tommy, and also not driving. Both you and Joel also have to vehemently refuse his request to do a round of tequila shots. 

After a while, Sarah gets bored, then insists on teaching you to dance. You agree, but seem awfully reluctant. Joel wants to pull you aside and let you know that you don’t have to entertain everything Sarah offers, but once you’ve stood up, and he watches her arm link through yours as you both walk to the dance floor, he can’t bring himself to intervene. 

He’s never seen Sarah be so taken with someone before, and he’s filled with a vague sense of regret. He always thought that she was content with just him and Tommy. Maybe she has always needed more. It’s partially his responsibility, Joel thinks –  what could he have done to stop her mother from leaving? Even if he could’ve stopped it, they would’ve been a miserable couple…which might have been more damaging to Sarah than her mother not being around at all.

Once you’re long gone, Joel can sense what Tommy is thinking before he even opens his mouth. 

“Shut it,” Joel says before he can even hear his brother's ribbing. 

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything about that!” Tommy raises his hands, but Joel knows he’s lying.

“We should go over there,” Joel says. He trusts you, but in a bar full of drunk people isn’t interested in being far away from Sarah for too long. Both he and Tommy abandon their booth to mosey their way towards the dance floor. 

Sarah has taken you into a back corner, far away from the band playing, where the crowd has thinned a little. There’s room for him and Tommy to lean up against the wall and watch you both. 

Both your hands are clasped with Sarah’s, and she’s teaching you the counts, the steps, while you study the way that your feet move.

Joel has a feeling that if it weren’t for his daughter, you wouldn’t have hung out with his family for so long. It’s just like the hike, and as usual, he feels more like a third wheel than anything else. You’re right that you do look a little out of place here. Maybe you don’t belong,  but he likes it. You’re wearing a pair of beat up hi-tops, which are a sharp contrast to Sarah’s baby blue cowboy boots that are covered in rhinestone butterflies. He’d gotten them for her for Christmas that past year, and she only wore them during special occasions like this.

Joel is doing the best he can not to think about the way your legs look in those fucking daisy dukes. All on display, and he wonders what it might feel like to drag his tongue up the soft skin of your inner thigh, feel you quiver and whimper as he works his mouth closer to– Enough. He’s disgusted with himself for thinking about you like that right now. 

“Dad, look!” Sarah says, and it seems you’re catching on all right, but none of it looks graceful. Sarah’s trying to lead – which she has never done – so she falters often, and also can’t quite reach all the way above your head when she tries to spin you around. “Oh no, look at his face!” Sarah points. You turn his direction, and Joel realizes he has to neutralize the grimace that has crept onto his visage. “We definitely aren’t doing good.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” you turn back to Sarah, assure her. “You’re a good teacher.” You’re being nice. Too nice, humoring her and laughing it off, even if she’s making a fool of you both. But you don’t seem to mind, because it’s making her happy. 

All of the sudden, the toe of Sarah’s boot catches on the scuffed wood floor and she lurches forward. Joel immediately pushes himself off the wall as though he could close the space and catch her before she faceplants, but he can’t, and he can already see a vision of himself sitting in the emergency room at 2 a.m waiting, while Sarah holds an ice pack on her nose. But you reach out before the image is fully realized, arms wrapping around her shoulders. “Careful!” You warn. And even though you shuffle forward with the weight of her, you keep her from falling. Once she realizes she’s safe, Sarah giggles and throws her head back, her eyes catching your own. 

He’s not sure what makes him do it. It could be the liquor, the way you look, the unspoken pressure from Tommy. Or maybe he’s just been wanting an excuse to be closer to you. Most importantly, at this rate, he feels like Sarah is going to hurt herself and also you in the process. Regardless of what the reason is, Joel decides to step in. He walks onto the dance floor.

“Alright,” Joel says once he’s gotten closer, looking at Sarah. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“What?”

He halts in front of his daughter, jerks his hand. “Move. I’m takin’ over.”

Sarah rolls her eyes, but smiles a little, and drops her hands from your shoulders. Joel offers you his hand. “You mind?” 

You look between Joel and Sarah, and she gives you an encouraging nod. “He taught me, he does know what he’s doing.”

“Well okay,” you take Joel’s hand. “You better not embarrass me,” and then you actually fucking wink at him. Already overwhelmed by the delicate weight of your hand in his palm, it almost sends him over the edge. He’s lucky he’s in public, with his family, because he doesn’t think he’d behave himself otherwise.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Joel answers. “Besides, I don’t think anything could be worse than what I was just watching.”

You giggle, and step forward when he tugs you just closer to dance, taking you fully in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sarah dragging Tommy onto the dance floor. Everyone is taken care of.

You’re smart. And because of it, you’re a fast learner. Even people who can’t really dance can usually figure this out, himself included. But in Joel’s opinion, it’s always been less about getting the steps right, and more about who’s keeping him company. 

And you’re great company. 

Eager, willing, gentle…soft. He’s embarrassed at how long it’s been since he’s been this close to an adult woman, and normally he might be a little nervous, but instead, he just feels…comfortable. 

But Joel is a selfish man. He always wants more. Wants the band to play a slower song, so then he’d have an excuse to pull you closer. Wind an arm around your waist, whisper things in your ear that no one else could hear, and feel your breath hitch when they register. But this isn’t really the dance for that, and the rest of his family is just steps away. He’ll have to compromise – which he doesn’t like. 

“I’m going to dip you,” Joel says, matter-of-factly.

“No you’re not.”

“I am,” he insists. “It’s essential.”

“I seriously doubt that.” 

“Look,” he tilts his head to Tommy and Sarah, and the latter is laughing as she pitches all her weight backwards into his arms. He nearly drops to one knee to catch her, she’s still so petit, but their form is actually pretty good. And they aren’t the only people in the room doing it. 

“Okay,” you say, and give him a warm smile for a split second before becoming stone-faced. “But if you drop me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Joel drawls.

He puts his arms around your waist, one of them catching the middle of your back, the other on a patch of exposed skin on your hip – your tank top has ridden up slightly with all the movement. You dig your fingers into his biceps, cling to him like he had hoped you would.

And even when he draws you back up, eyes locked with your own, your grip remains the same. You stay close. 

“My turn,” Tommy interjects, and Joel can’t help the dirty look he gives him over your shoulder. He’s playing the annoying little brother, doing everything he can to piss him off. His brother wants to see Joel break, but he’s not going to give him the satisfaction.

Plus, Joel is happy to dance with Sarah, which is the whole reason they came here in the first place. She’s so excited to be there, and he wonders if there will ever be a time when she’s too grown up for things like this. He hopes not. 

He ignores the sound of Tommy’s laugh mingled with your own. You were not laughing that much with him, and that causes a pang of jealousy. Joel doesn’t like acknowledging it, but he’s always resented Tommy for his ability to be the charismatic one, the charming one, the happy-go-lucky one. Even when they were kids. That’s what it’s like to be the oldest sibling. Never as fun, always more practical, more serious, the voice of reason. Always in service to their siblings, all in the name of love. 

Eventually, you and Sarah are back dancing together, and since you’ve had some practice separately, it’s not as sloppy as before. It allows Joel and Tommy to return to their post against the wall, just out of earshot.

Joel feels his brother’s eyes on him as he watches you and Sarah. “Dude,” he finally gives in, looks over at Tommy. “Just ask her out already.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Tommy-”

“You’re into her.” 

“Maybe,” Joel says, because he knows it’s pointless to lie. “But she’s got a boyfriend.”

Tommy elbows him. “So what?”

“I know you’re alright bein’ a homewrecker but I-”

“It makes sense Joel. She’s fuckin’ smart, and funny, and pretty. And Sarah fucking loves her-”

In any other situation, he would’ve acted weeks ago. But he’s starting to understand why he’s dragging his feet. Tommy’s right. Sarah adores you. Joel will fuck something up, it’s inevitable. And when you decide you never want to speak to him again, Sarah will lose you too. He’s already let her down enough. 

“I should’ve never fuckin’ told you–”

“Take her to drinks, to the movies, dinner, show up at her house with a bottle of wine, hell, something. If you don’t ask her out already, then I will.”

Joel punches his brother on the shoulder. It’s not enough to incite an actual fight, but it’s definitely not playful. “Ow!” Tommy grips at his arm. “What?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, he rolls his eyes. 

“Speaking from experience, I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Once, Joel. That was one time. Will I never hear the end of it?”

“No,” Joel says. “And I see what you were doing tonight, too. Don’t think you’re slick.” he hopes to change the subject, and it seems to be working. 

Tommy sets them back on track. “Well, I was just trying to get you to wake the fuck up and see what’s in front of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What happens when Sarah grows up? Goes to school, leaves the house? Then, what are you gonna do? You’re just gonna be alone?”

“You are treadin’ on some mighty thin ice, Tommy,'' Joel hisses. ““You barely know this woman-”

“I’d like a family, too, Joel. When that happens I won’t be able to keep you company anymore. You might want someone else. And maybe it’s not her, fine. But there should be someone.”

For as much as he hates to admit it, Joel knows Tommy is right. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 25, 2003- 

It’s six at night. and you’re already in your pajamas. 

A couple years ago, you would’ve thought that was pretty sad. These days, it’s only a little sad. You prefer things this way. That’s the perk of being an adult living alone. If you want to put on pajamas before the sun sets on a Friday night, you can. If you want to get stoned on the back porch of the house you bought yourself, you can. If you want all those things to happen while you watch the sunset and listen to yacht rock, you can. And you’re going to. 

You’re toying with the new digital camera your brother bought for you. Vincent likes to argue with you, but he always feels guilty after a conversation gone wrong. Rather than use his words, however, he just buys you gifts. You had apologized over the phone a few days ago…this was his way of doing the same. The shutter clicks as you snap a photo of your backyard, and you look at it in the viewfinder before discarding the camera on your coffee table.

Martini is on the porch with you, doing that thing where he stands just out of reach but chirps at you until you pet him. When you reach out, he moves away. He’s not great at accepting what he wants. Maybe it’s why he’s sort of the perfect cat for you – you’re the same. 

You light your bowl, and you’re mid-inhale when you hear someone call your name. 

“Hey!” 

At this point, you’d recognize Joel Miller’s voice anywhere. You don’t want to admit it’s because you’ve tried to commit it to memory, daydreamed about how it might sound for his smooth lilt to read you a book until you fall asleep, or listen to him take a phone call in the other room. 

Realizing it’s him, you inhale sharply, forgetting what you’re in the middle of and taking a much bigger hit than you had intended. You begin choking violently on the smoke while simultaneously scrambling to hide your piece and the related paraphernalia sitting out, and manage to do so just in time for him to round the corner. 

You scramble to hide your bowl under the pillow of the outdoor couch you sit on, just in time for Joel to appear at the screen door. 

“Hey,” you say, covering your mouth. Your throat burns, and you cough again. Stay cool, stay calm. Everything is good. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I tried your front door and you weren’t answering, so I thought I’d see if you were back here.” It’s hard to see him from here, through the door, and he’s backlit by the sun that’s shimmering behind his dark hair, catching it in a golden halo. 

You rise to open the door, and when you do, he continues. “I’m here to pick up Sarah’s soccer jersey.”

Right. Of course he was. She had left it a few days before, and you had assumed she’d come get it before her game on Saturday but it didn’t dawn on you until now that she ever had. 

“I would’ve sent her, but she’s at a sleepover tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, standing in place. You’re trying so desperately to act normal, words evade you.

Joel squints at you, a slight smirk on his face. “I didn’t catch you off guard or anything, did I?’

“No, no, not at all,” you lie. “Come on in.”

Joel steps over the tiny dish of cat food you’ve left on your back step for the stray you feed, and into the screened-in porch. Now that he’s under the dim light, you get a better look at him. A loose-fitting flannel hangs open over a worn green t-shirt that barely meets the top of his jeans. His hair is damp, like he’s just showered, and he smells clean. In any other situation, you’d want to climb him like a tree, and he’s not even trying. But right now, you’re just doing your best impression of a sober human that is definitely not doing anything illegal. The truth is, you should’ve made him wait outside.

“This is nice,” Joel says, looking around. And you really wish he wasn’t because you notice that you left the clear plastic baggie containing your weed out on the couch. It sort of blends in with the green floral pattern, so you hope for the best, because there’s no way for you to sneakily grab it without drawing his attention. “I didn't know this was back here.”

“The last owners added it on,” you say, because that was the type of thing the realtor had said to you about the features of this house. And you supposed a carpenter or contractor would probably be interested in it. It was a good distraction.

“I can tell. Looks new,” he looks up towards the wooden beams that span the ceiling. The top of the porch is still covered, so during the few times it’s rained, you always sit outside to listen.

“I’ve got her jersey in the kitchen,” you tell him. “Wait here.”

It doesn’t take long for you to pick out the bright blue athletic gear from your pile of dry cleaning. It stands out against all your neutral-colored pantsuits. Joel has his back to you when you return, one of his hands clenched into a fist. 

“Here,” you say, and he turns. 

“You had it dry cleaned? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I kind of wasn’t sure if it was safe to run through the machine,” you explain. “But now that I’m thinking about it….it wouldn’t make sense to give a bunch of 11-year-olds dry clean only jerseys.”

“It wouldn’t. But it’s probably more convenient than scrubbing the grass stains out yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately. But again…thank you.”

“Of course.”

This is where Joel should leave, walk across the street, and go home. And he does, well, at least, he starts to. He steps away, reaches for the handle to your back door, and then pauses. “You know,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “The Watsons were tellin’ me the other day you’ve been complaining about a family of skunks living under your house?”

You freeze, recalling the lie you’d come up with on a whim when your sixty-year-old neighbors had started asking too many questions. 

“Well, it does smell a little over here.”

“Uh-huh,” you give him nothing.

“Something like that….you should really call animal control. Get rid of the problem,” Joel’s facing you now, eyebrow raised. 

“If I call animal control…they’ll just kill them,” you answer. “And I don’t want that. So…I think I’ll just have to live with it.” 

“That’s fair,” Joel says. “But you know, Sarah’s over here all the time, and I’ve never heard her mention it.”

At this point you know he’s just fucking with you. But years of remaining stone-faced through business negotiations and family dinners has prepared you for this, so even if you’re a little stoned, you’re not going to let him win. 

“Yeah, it sounds like a coincidence. But they’re never around when she’s here,” you say, in your own defense. “Ever,” you add for emphasis. 

“I guess that’s good.”

You both stare at each other for a second, and your blood buzzes slightly because even though this is just a playful standoff, you’ve never made such intense eye contact with him. It feels electric. After what feels like an eternity, Joel lifts his hand from his hip, and you see what he’d been holding in his fist, now pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He raises an eyebrow.

When you see the plastic baggie dangling in front of your face, you purse your lips. “Alright, you got me,” you lift up your hands, but snatch the bag from him. 

“And here I thought you were such a good girl.”

You don’t even want to acknowledge the full body chill that runs down your spine at the sound of those two words, coming from him. Snatching the bag back from him, he gives you a cheeky smile. “If you give me a hit, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your jaw drops, and you look up at him. “Oh, you’re trouble.”

“I’m not the one lyin’ to my neighbors.”

“And I’m not the one snooping through my neighbors' things.”

“It was right out in the open.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered at all. But it’s Texas, so you can never be sure. “Okay, fine,” you say. “If you want….I could roll us a joint. Unless you have other plans.”

“The alternative is a house to myself for the evening and some chores, so…yeah. Whatever you’d like.”

“Great.”

Joel follows you to sit on the couch. As you settle on opposite ends, he speaks up. “So you think you could explain to me why my daughter keeps tellin’ me she wants to be a lawyer?”

You snicker. “Believe me, Joel. I’ve tried to talk her out of it already.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. Probably a more lucrative career than what I’m doing. She’s really taken a liking to you, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her warm up to anyone so quick.”

“Well, I’m the first adult she knows that’s not an authority figure.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“I remember being that age,” you look down at your work. “It’s nice to have someone older to relate to, who you can talk to without being afraid of getting a lecture.”

“She probably needs it,” Joel says. “She told me you talk about girl stuff. I’m not so great at that.”

“I don’t know,” Your tongue darts out to wet the edge of the paper and finish rolling the joint. You put it between your lips, and rummage through the drawer of the coffee table to find your lighter, gesture between the both of you. “This is about ninety percent of how I spent my time with my friends at her age…and so far you’re doing alright.”

“Now you’ve got me worried about what’s going on at that sleepover.”

“Okay, well, I was maybe a little older. And with her? You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you shake your head. 

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes glow with the reflection of your lighter as it’s flicked on. “I don’t know.”

“She’s fine, Joel,” you say, bringing the lighter closer and shielding the flame from the calm breeze of the evening. “She’s great. Really.”

“She is,” he agrees. You inhale, let the smoke settle in your lungs for a moment, before exhaling. You take your time, feeling warm from the weed and the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, and he accepts the joint when you pass it over.

“I really didn’t really expect this from you,” he exhales, studying your handiwork before taking another puff. “You’re pretty buttoned up.”

“This is hardly rebellious.” Instinctually, you like the idea that he thinks you’re buttoned up. Deep down, however, you don’t actually want him to.

He looks so dreamy, the smoke curling though his eyelashes, tracing along his defined jaw, and then up, up, where it settles and shifts under the porch light, before disappearing completely.

Martini, who has been in hiding, hops up on the couch, and Joel reaches out, your cat nuzzling its face into his palm. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he mumbles. And then, like some sort of magic, the cat plops down on Joel’s lap. 

“I do…but…” you say out loud, then trail off because you’re in such shock. You glance up at Joel, who looks confused. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen him do this.”

He passes the joint back to you. “Do what?”

You take a final puff, and then put it out in an ashtray. It’s only about half smoked, but you can get into it later if either of you wants to. Plus, you’re more interested in what’s unfolding in front of you. “I kinda want a picture of this.”

“What?”

“I’ve had him for five years and he’s never sat on my lap like that,” you say, and you can’t keep the resentment from dripping into your tone. “What makes you so special? I’m a little jealous.”

“Of me? Or the cat?”

Something honey-thick drips down your spine at his words. You can’t conjure a witty response, opting instead for: “Shut up.”

You snap a couple photos while Joel’s still laughing, one hand on his chest, the other on Martini’s back, and then put the camera down, and lean against the back of the couch, curling your feet underneath you. 

“You’ve got a nice view of the sunset,” Joel says softly.

There’s a distant fear you might never get to see him like this again, and you want to take him in fully before you drag your eyes to see what he’s looking at. Your backyard slopes down into a small patch of woods, the sky opening even wider to let in the aureate light. 

“I know,” you agree. “It’s why I spend so much time back here.” The high continues to settle over you, strokes your shoulders, tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Surprised you like things that are so peaceful…being from the city and all…”

“The city is peaceful,” you say, thinking of the leaves swirling from the trees in the fall, and the snowflakes falling onto your family's porch in the winter, melting on the tip of your nose as you lean over the balcony to see the glittering lights below, car horns and engines and sirens piercing the darkness, white noise. “In its own way.”

“You miss it?”

“Everyday,” you say. 

“What do you miss the most?”  

“Uhm…probably the bagels,” you lie. Well it’s true. But it’s not what you miss the most. You think of your brother, flopping onto your bed on a Saturday night – a rare weekend when you visit home – and you’re trying to read A Tree Grows In Brooklyn for school but he’s begging to take you around the corner to get a milkshake. It’s the image of him you’ve so desperately tried to cling to and the recollections you share with him have only gotten more and more unpleasant as time goes on. “The bagels here suck.”

“Really?” Joel seems amused by that. 

“And uh…I don’t know. It’s part of me. I have a lot of friends there, a lot of good memories,” you smile to yourself, lean forward towards him. “I had this apartment before I graduated, right? It had the best view of this little Italian restaurant, and I’d sit and watch people through the windows, eating and talking. I was supposed to be studying, but…it was great. I loved it.”

“What’re you doing here, then?” Joel asks, and you look back at the sunset. Here you are, waxing poetic and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. “You runnin’ from something?” You look over to find he’s staring at you. Like he knows you aren’t being honest, and he’s asking you to stop lying.

So you do the only thing you can think of, which is to ask him a question in response. “What makes you think I am?”

Joel considers this for a moment. “I don’t know. I grew up in Austin. All my friends are here, my family. If I ever moved someplace else….it’d have to be for a good reason. And even if I did, I’d be lonely.”

You stare down at the floor. “Maybe I am.” Lonely? Or running from something? The answer is both, you know, but you’re not going to clarify. “My family. Things are pretty fucked. I thought distance would help, and it does, a little. But….that shit still follows you anyways. They’re always with you, no matter what.”

Joel nods. 

“But… I have a life here. When I lived downtown, I definitely did. I don’t mind the quiet, and….I have friends.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a boyfriend, don’t you?”

Why would he think that-oh. You had tried to forget it, the morning he’d caught you still wrapped up in your robe – not the fluffy fleece one you liked the most, but the one you specifically only wore when you had guys over, cause they loved that shit.

“Oh, right,” you say. “Bradley. Yeah, uh. He’s…he’s….not my boyfriend. But…” you shake your head. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’m sure it ain’t that hard to explain.”

“I mean…” you avoid his eyes. “He’s kind of an asshole, but we’re not really commited to each other in a meaningful way. Plus, he’s not around that much which is kind of perfect…for me.”

“Really?”

“Less to worry about,” you answer, purse your lips. “But…I don’t know. I sorta wish he got my heart rate up a little more.”

“He’s not your type?”

“I don’t really have a type,” you shake your head. “I like what I like.”

Joel rasps. “I feel the same,” and he’s made sure your eyes are on him when he says it.

You swallow, nod, smooth your hair back. “Anyways. Why’re you asking me all this?”

Joel doesn’t seem to find an answer right away. You narrow your eyes at him, studying his face, looking for something that will give him away. It’s a trick you’ve learned…silence…a bit of skepticism. It makes people uncomfortable. And Joel shifts his weight, squirming beneath your gaze. Until something in his face shifts, and he smiles….just a little. 

“So that’s where Sarah learned that.”

“Learned what?”

“That look you’re giving me.”

“What look?” 

“Like you can see right through me.”

“Can I?” You narrow your eyes further.

“You’re tryin’ to.” 

He’d done a good enough job of avoiding your question, and you’re not gonna ask him again, and instead opt for a different one. “So what about you, then?” you poke his knee with your foot.

“Oh, I’m not answerin’’ that.”

“What? I just told you, that’s not fair.”

Joel runs a hand along his jaw, ponders. “Most women don’t want to be with a man who already has a kid so…things on that front are not always easy.” 

“I have a hard time believing that. I mean, don’t you have an upcoming date with Sarah’s teacher or something?” you tease.

“That’s not happening,” he assures you. “But….I work so much these days I don’t have the capacity for much. So I get what you mean, sometimes it’s easy to not get emotionally involved but…I’ve never really been great at that.”

“You’re a relationship guy?”

“I mean, Tommy has been pestering me about this lately. Says at this rate, once Sarah’s grown, I’ll end up old and alone. Annoys me to hell, but he’s right. I wouldn’t mind…some kind of companionship. Someone to tell you you’ve done alright at the end of the day.” 

“You sound awfully romantic,” you at him blink slowly.

“I can be, when I want to.” Joel rolls his eyes. “But right now…I think I’m just stoned.” 

That makes you giggle. So he’s just being honest. “I didn’t really see much great come from settling down when I grew up, so I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist when it comes to love. What you’re saying….it’s a nicer way to think of things.”

You rarely connected with the men you dated. You chose to date douchebags, to date cheaters. It was better that way, to know up front what you were getting yourself into. The best ones didn’t ask for much, just the odd fuck here and there for a couple months, and you’d step away when things were no longer fun, if they evewere to begin with. 

Actually getting married, settling down, didn’t feel like a real possibility for you. So you’d never allowed yourself to indulge in what seemed like a fantasy. Some women aren’t meant to be a part of a family. Your father had told you once – during one of few times he’d attempted to comfort you after your mother didn’t call on your birthday – as if it excused his own neglect. 

“Yeah, and it hasn’t all been bad. I mean, I’ve had a couple good girlfriends over the years. They were sweet, fun. I enjoyed the time I spent with them, they just…never made it through the real litmus test.”

“Sarah?”

He nods. 

“It would be hard, I imagine. For her. Accepting someone new into her life.”

“Yeah.”

“You really care about her,” you say. “About how she feels. It’s nice.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

The way he talks about Sarah makes you nauseated. It’s something pure, and you can’t help but feel bitterly nostalgic. 

“I wish my dad would have been like you.”

It slips out, and you immediately regret it. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten stoned with someone else, and you’ve forgotten your filter. And even though you’ve already divulged more to him about you than you normally would, this feels like too much all of the sudden. 

This isn’t something you can backpedal, and before you know it, Joel is leaning towards you. There’s concern written in his features, he wants to comfort, and you thank God for what happens next, or it all would’ve been too much.

His shift in weight causes Martini to jump off his lap and sprint to the door of the porch. He stares at you and then meows. 

Even though Joel isn’t touching you, you have to tear yourself away from the hold he’s got you in. ““I gotta let him in, or he’ll get annoyed.”

You move to open the door, and the cat slips inside.

“Is that a guitar in there?” Joel asks, catching a sliver of the gleaming body in the dim light.

“Yeah.” 

“You play?”  He questions, and you come to sit back on the couch. 

“Not anymore. It’s more of a decoration. How about you?” 

“A little.”

“A little?”

“A lot.” Joel smiles, looks at the ground like not sure why he’s telling you this. “I actually uh, used to want to be a singer.”

“What?” you ask. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head. 

“Joel, what?” you put a hand on his arm and lean forward, then look at the guitar.

“Why not?”

“I was…young when I had Sarah. And I had to do something that could actually help us get by.”

“Okay well, you have to play me something, then,” you rise to step inside and retrieve it off the wall. 

“No, no-”

“Come on, please?” you ask. “Don’t be a tease.”

Joel just stares as you bring the guitar out to him. 

“Although this might be out of tune…” you strum once, and wince at the tinny sound it makes. “Definitely it is.”

“Here,” Joel takes it from you. “I can do it.”

It takes him a moment, but he’s plucking the strings in a way that feels so instinctual, purposeful, you can already tell he knows what he’s doing. Once he’s finished, he strums a few chords, and everything is magically in tune. 

“Alright,” you prompt, when he hesitates. “What are you gonna play me?”

“You know any Neil Young?”

“Of course,” you answer. 

Joel nods once, looks down at the guitar, and starts playing. You’d recognize the opening chords to anywhere, but he somehow makes them sound even moodier, and bittersweet. 

Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say…

He can sing. You’re taken aback. You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s definitely better than that. Deeper, raspier, and now you have new information about him that’s going to bounce around your brain when you’re bored during meetings at work, while you’re lying in bed at night, trying to sleep. 

Because I’m still in love with you, I want to see you dance again…

You shift your weight, sling your arm over the back of the couch, and rest your chin on your hand. Suddenly, you’re feeling a little tired. He’s all-but putting you to sleep and, somehow, that feels like the highest compliment you can give. It could be because you’re stoned, but you feel warm all over. You close your eyes, just listen, until he’s finished.

Even after he’s finished, you keep your eyes closed, settling. Until you feel something graze against the back of your hand. Joel’s. He’s matching your own pose, facing you, but reaching out…

“That was nice,” you say, earnestly. You’re good.”

Joel smiles bashfully, tugs your hand from beneath your chin and pinches your index finger between two of his own. Your nails are painted a glittery purple, and Joel studies them. Sarah had painted them earlier this week when she’d hung out after school, and had picked out the color. 

“So are you,” he shifts closer. 

He’s not quite close enough to kiss you himself. But it’s enough…he’s just giving you the chance to lean in, to close the gap. The proximity makes you dizzy, and you’re a little overwhelmed. It’s too much. It’d be too much. You can’t. You’re afraid of what he might do to you.

“We should be good, then,” Gazing at him from under your lashes, you pull back just enough. It’s not a rejection, and you can tell he doesn’t see it that way either. There’s a mutual understanding, you’re on the same page, but you aren’t quite sure what it is. The warmth of Joel’s hand leaves yours, and a part of you is filled with regret.

And then, like it never happened, the two of you spend another hour talking. He’s engaged, intuitive, thoughtful, funny. By the time he excuses himself, long after the sun has fully dipped below the horizon, you feel like he’s an old friend. An old friend you want…badly, but, you know him on a level you hadn’t before.

“Gotta be up tomorrow for a soccer game, otherwise I’d stick around,” Joel says as you’re guiding him to the front door.

“It’s alright,” you say. “You’re welcome to do this anytime.”

“You sure?” he tilts his head, leaning against the doorframe on his way out. “You might regret offerin’ that….”

“I won’t.”

--

part iv

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha

#are you feeling the slow burn yet? #also #i fully think i am not just writing for hbo joel but also game joel #ive had a lot of thoughts about game joel lately #and i really need people to understand i try to represent both in the story #so imagine who you want ;) #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x f!reader #joel Miller imagine #Joel Miller series #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #Pedro pascal #troy baker #TLOU HBO #TLOU fanfic #pre-outbreak! joel miller #texas sun

[nocturnesmoon]

You could dream

A/N: Lil short story based on a concept I dreamt about, I have no clue if this makes sense, also I wrote and edited this with a massive headache so excuse the mistakes- I just had to write about it before I lost the train of thought about it.

The soft click of him opening your door, stirs you to life. Feeling the alcohol swirl in your stomach, your head barely keeping up with the spinning room when you try to push away from him.

"Let me go Simon," you slur your words, yelping when he does as you ask, and you crash against the back of the couch. You groan trying to find your balance, using the armrest to keep you upright.

Despite your intoxicated state, you felt your mind clearing up little by little now that you realized you were home. Even with your blurred memory, it wasn't hard to remember the surprise you had felt when Simon had shown up to ruin your little night out with yourself.

It was a bit ironic in reality, you had gone out to forget about him, your pathetic attempt to stop your weary mind from thinking about him. It had worked wonderfully together with the alcohol until the bastard himself showed up.

"Ugh, I can't believe you," you mumble drunkenly in his direction. You grimace at the feel of your stomach protesting, the predictive feeling that you might soon throw up. You try to hold it back, not wanting to throw up on your carpet once again, you doubted you would feel good enough to clean it up.

You find his silhouette in your swaying vision, suddenly moving forward with a determined haste. He catches you before you collide against his chest, loose fists trying to push him backwards, but there wasn't much strength behind it. "You can't just…just….just do that," you stutter through your words, jabbing a finger right in the center of his torso.

"You can blame me all you want, but I wasn't going to let you go home drunk with some bloke you don't know," he says harshly to get his point across to your wracked brain. He was being mean, not the first words he's said to you tonight, but the only ones you're going to remember, "And I'm not going to apologize for saving you from a situation you know you would have regretted." You still against him, trying not to think about the heat he radiates, the presence that was once yours to bask in.

In your mind, he had come between you and a potential good time, but it didn't take a genius to see that he didn't feel the same in that aspect. The guy you had met that evening filled all the criteria, stronger, broader, taller. A figure fit for the military, and a nasty, brooding personality you could just get behind after he bought you a few drinks.

All in all, not a bad choice for your drunk brain.

Feeling a flare of anger give your energy back, makes you push yourself a few steps away from him once again. "What if I didn't want to be saved, huh!? You think about that?!" You're being loud, but the part of you that would've stopped yourself from yelling left when the buzz got to your head.

He lets you stray away, out of his grasp, like you did a few months ago. You hate the prickling feeling on your skin from the loss of contact, the way you ached for him to touch you again, even if innocent and brief.

You didn't want to admit that you were happy to see him, because why would you be. He cast you out, he was the one to say you were too much. He distanced himself, got himself hurt and you in turn. He had enough of you, right? That's why he left you, why should he care now what you did to sabotage your own life.

"You mean to tell me you wouldn't have a panic attack from regret when you wake up tomorrow in a bed you don't recognize?" he crossed his arms as he looked at you. His scars tugging on his skin when he raises a knowing brow. You wanted to slap him, run your fingers over his face to force his eyebrow back down, to make him stop looking at you like you were an open book to him.

It was one thing to be tossed aside by the only person who had truly cared to get to know you, but when that person came back and still pretended to know you so well, it only measured to piss you off. This time you wanted to yell at him, you wouldn't care if you screamed so loud the neighbours would be concerned.

Yet nothing comes out of your mouth as you stare at him. He takes the breath from your lungs just like he always does, he renders your brain useless, and he steals the words that wanted to come off your tongue.

"Look I know you don't want anything to do with me," he speaks, and you scoff because of course you want everything to do with him, yet also nothing at all, "but I saw you and while we aren't together anymore, I still care for your safety."

You imitate a shocked laugh, "Me? Wanting nothing to do you with you, Simon, you're the one that wanted me gone!" He flinches at that because he knows you're right. He was the one to get rid of you, the one to tell you to stop contacting him, that there was nothing left to find in him.

He says your name, in that soft, quiet way that used to get you weak in the knees. It doesn't fail to do the same now, but the weakness is filled with disdain of its usage. "That's not fair love…" he sounds hurt, confused, and you don't understand why.

"Not fair? Not Fair!?" you feel your own sobriety come from how appalled you are from him. His entire presence is not fair, what does he mean you aren't being fair?! "Simon, I have been trying to move on from you for months now! The first time I actually found someone that even bothered looking my way, you show up and ruin it all!!"

He stands quiet as he lets you yell, he lets you get your emotions out of him, he stands and takes all of your hurt, all of the pain he unintentionally caused you. "I know dove…" he tries to speak, but you make it known you're not done.

"Do not call me that!! I am not your dove, I am not your love, you made it clear you didn't want me anymore, so don't even pretend to care that someone else might want to do what you couldn't!!" you promptly shut up when he stalks forward, grabbing hold of you by your elbows.

You don't know what he wants, what he intends to do, but the action alone makes you keep shut, staring up into his eyes that show more emotion than you've seen from him in so long.

"I'm not pretending," he sighs as he looks at you, "but we're not having this conversation while you're intoxicated." His thumb rubs tentatively into your exposed skin, a soothing action he doesn't think is working.

You dig your nails into his skin subconsciously, your brain works hoops trying to comprehend what he just told you, what the tone of his voice and what his body is trying to tell you. "What? No, what does that mean, Simon, you can't just-"

"Look I…" he sighs deeply, "I've had a lot of time to think when we were apart, I meant to call you up earlier, explain myself, at least give you the chance to make your own decision instead of me making it for you." He looks you at you so tenderly, but you don't fail to see the anxious desperation.

"I'm a coward, love…"

You stare at him dumbfounded, trying to see what he meant by those words. Was he seriously suggesting what you thought he was? Was he really about to make all the time you had spent crying over him for nothing, that he didn't have to leave you thinking you weren't worth the time of day.

Or was he just saying that he had come to his senses, that he realized things in your absence that he wouldn't have otherwise? You feel your mind overload with questions and information that you're in no state to handle. It hurts to speculate, prodding and digging to try and find a meaning. Fat tears start to pool in your eyes as you stare at him, his hand coming up instinctively to wipe them away as they fall.

"That's not fair" he frowns gently, looking on quietly to see if you would elaborate. Though he knows you're confused and emotional, thinking too many thoughts that does nothing but ruin you further.

And when you don't come with an explanation, all he finds himself muttering is the soft assurances.

"I know"

"You're not being fair" you continue, hiccuping in-between your choked back sobs. You don't want to fall apart in front of him. A part of you doesn't think he deserves it. Why should he get to see your tears when he caused them. That's not right, none of this feels right.

"I know"

Yet you can't help but want to crash in his arms because you know he will catch you. No matter what he's said in the parts, not even when you guys used to fight, he would never shut you out should, you need him. He has always been there at the ready for whatever you need from him.

"I hate you" you utter the lie in hopes you can hold onto the last of your resolve, but it quickly disintegrates when you curl yourself around him, and he accepts it like no bad thing has happened between the two of you. He holds you close like he used to, giving you that old nostalgic feeling of when he used to promise to never let you go. But he let you go, didn't he?

"I love you" the words are no longer hollow in your ears; his voice vibrates in his chest against you. His warmth engulfs you, his scent, his being surrounds you in a way that was once suffocating, but now the nicest blanket you've ever had. Maybe you could dare to dream, that he has an explanation, that there were reasons for his behaviour, that it's not all lost.

You could dream.

#noctmoon fics #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x gn!reader

[s1ater]

hot and thirsty.

pairings. slytherin boys x fem!reader

about. you would have thought lorenzo would win the dumbest drunk of the year, but blaise proves you wrong.

warnings. foul language

ricky rocks. i got this idea from a tik tok comment 😭

“will you just fucking cooperate, blaise.”

“why’re you feeling me up like that, mate? i always knew you wanted to fuck me.”

“for fucks sake, perv!” draco shoves blaise off and onto the couch, his face going flush and his look of frustration turning into irritation. “no one here is trying to feel you up.”

to say draco’s patience with drunk people ran low real fast—was an understatement. especially when it came to blaise and enzo, but lucky for him, blaise was the only one shitfaced tonight.

it had to be one in the morning when you had all finally dragged blaise by his collar out of the ravenclaw party. you were surprised none of you had gotten kicked out of the party because that’s how the night always ended, but like said before, blaise was the only one drinking… which you were also surprised by.

“i’m highly surprised you would even say that to me. many women and men would love to feel me up, would even pay,” he eyes draco strangely, like he’s utterly disgusted that draco would diss him like that. “the question is, draco, would anyone want to feel you up, huh? i’m guessing no since you’re with me tonight.”

draco is so obviously done by the way he stares at blaise, it makes you smile, wandering to blaise’s side who now stands, challenging the blonde to say something else.

“whatever, i’m going to bed,” he waves him off, turning on his heel to head up the stairs. “don’t do anything stupid.”

“that’ll be a hard one,” enzo claps his hands before rubbing them together in thought, already formulating a plan on settling the night down. you were surprised by this, lorenzo was usually one to keep the night going, but by the way his sober eyes stared at blaise made you think he more than ready to end it. “let’s get you a glass, right mate?”

“glass of what?” blaise perks up at this idea, almost running to enzo’s side at the recommendation. “i prefer fire whiskey, but a little bourbon, vodka, anything really wouldn’t be minded.”

“i think he means water, sweetheart,” theodore pats his shoulders as he slumps onto one of the couches, “you’ve had more than enough fire whiskey, and everything that you don’t mind tonight.”

you were surprised theo hadn’t followed draco right up those stairs for sleep—he usually was always the first one to tap out from a night out, mostly due to his short tolerance of everyone’s drunk or tipsy state. he almost never drank, he found public intoxication embarrassing and when he did, it was rare and only with your small group.

“sweetheart?” blaise hiccuped, now uneven on his feet as he stared down at theodore. “now you boys are all over me tonight,” he hiccups again, squinting as he tumbled a bit backward while tempting to raise his arms in expression. “don’t worry, there’s enough blaise zabini to go around.”

“isn’t there always?”

“y/n, love, why don’t you get blaise a cup?”

“me,” you raised your brows, surprised to be even noticed in this moment. “oh, i couldn’t, enzo, i’m far too wasted.”

he scowled knowing you were bullshitting, because you hadn’t drank a drop that night and you really just didn’t want to move from your very comfortable spot on the couch.

“oh for fucks sake,” he rolls his eyes.

“you all left rather early,” your heads all turn to see mattheo strolling through the entrance of the common room looking rather disheveled compared to the last time you had all seen him. it made you bite down on your lip to suppress a grin as you shared a look with theodore.

mattheo was very much a drinker despite what he liked to think. although he could handle himself very well and he was far from a light weight—once he got into some fire whiskey, he was gone and always found himself in some trouble. more specifically with a girl.

“i’d say we left rather late,” theo corrected, giving him a knowing smile.

“oh.”

“mattheo, since you’re already up, will you get blaise some water?”

“sure man,” he nodded, wringing the loosely fit tie further away from his neck before looking to theodore, a ghost of a grin lining his lips. “theodore, want to come with?”

“sure.”

they were definitely gossiping. they always did after a party and it was your favorite thing because despite mattheo only ever telling theodore these things, it always made its way back to you because theodore could never keep his mouth shut around you.

you watched theo carefully as he got up and met mattheo’s side before immediately conversing.

“such girls,” enzo shook his head before slouching onto the spot next to you, his head leaning backward in exhaustion. “y’know, i hate being sober. fucking sucks.”

you laugh quietly, shaking your head, “it’s not terrible. it’s actually quite easier when you’re not wasted and threatening to throw up when any minor inconvenience happens to you.”

“shut up,” he shakes his head but still smiles. “it’s not too late to start drinking.”

“amen brother!”

“for you, it is,” enzo’s finger stabs the air at blaise’s voice that sounds randomly around the room. “you need to go to bed.”

he stays silent at that and you wonder what’s going through his mind till he speaks it; “it’s real hot in here, do you all feel it?”

“what are you going on about now,” lorenzo looks up at him, highly irritated while blaise roams around the room, an idea obviously pinned in his mind.

“it’s fucking hot. i might start stripping,” he was already taking off his shirt and there really was nothing either of you could do.

“yeah, you do that man,” enzo lays his head back down against the back of the couch. he didn’t have to worry if blaise was entertaining himself.

nights like this often played out like that; half of you that were sober would end up passing out on the common room couches as blaise and most likely lorenzo and whoever else that was wasted—entertained themselves with random trinkets they found around the room; most likely breaking something.

“awh! we’re looking for water aren’t we? well i have such a fantastic solution, why didn’t we think of this sooner?”

the tone of his voice made you frown, popping your head up slowly as you looked for blaise around the room, “what are you on about—blaise stop!”

you had never hopped to your feet so fast at the sight of blaise attempting to pry open a window before becoming successful, where immediately, water started flowing through the opened crack.

“you fucking fool, what is going through your mind?!”

you can see him fall to his ass as he giggles, watching both you and lorenzo run to shut the window. your finger tips pry against the metal lining of the window, trying to jerk it back into its place, but the pressure of water pouring into the room proved a strong resistance that made movement of the window almost impossible.

“did you forget where exactly we were, you fucker?!”

lorenzo towered over you, attempting the same, but failed just as you did till finally the window sliced through the water like a knife and moved so easily back into its place, closing the gate.

you sighed in relief, turning to slide down the wall where you now saw mattheo and theodore with their wands out with shocked expressions. awh, that’s why it had finally moved.

“dear god, blaise, are you stupid?!“

“save the insults, i just want my glass.”

navigation.

#fanfic #fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott oneshot #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #gryffindor #hogwarts boys #harry potter imagine #harry potter #fred weasley #george weasley

[esmedelacroix]

Romeo e Giulietta[a mafia love story] pt.2

mafioso!miguel x f!mafioso!reader 🂱

cw: suggestive

first part | miguel masterlist

prev ←→ next

"Papá..." you started.

"Giulietta, where do you always go at night? You barely ever sleep in your own bed," he questions. Long silence ate away at you not knowing what to say to him. You didn't want to lie to your father but you didn't want to tell him the truth because it would hurt him.

"Papá, I can't tell you..." you said, getting nervous because you felt like you were letting him down.

"I just hope it's nothing that will disappoint me, Guilietta," he said sternly.

You gave him a weak smile and continued to climb the stairs.

"Oh and sweetheart, do not forget the charity event tonight; everything must go according to plan, and stay far away from those damned O'haras, especially Miguel," he said, his voice dripping with pure venom and hate as he said the name of your love.

—

The day went on without a hitch; you spent most of the day planning the charity event, which was just a money laundering scheme, but what else could you expect from a mafioso? Besides, you were taking money from rich people. So it wasn't all too bad.

That night you wore a tight black dress with a sinful slit going up to your mid-thigh. Miguel had bought that dress, but you never got to show it off. It was still a bummer that Papá wouldn't let you converse with the O'haras. There was no fun in sulking because you couldn't talk to your sweet boy, so you teased him all night. Wearing that beautiful dress that he had bought, the maroon lipstick that stained most of his button-up collars. Your hair was in an updo so he could see your cleavage, collarbone, and back tattoo perfectly.

When everyone had arrived at the event, you descended the stairs. All eyes were on you. The bright grandiose golden chandelier shone above you. You could feel Miguel's gaze piercing through you as you greeted guests. You gave him a quick smirk as you made your way across the room to welcome more people. You looked delectable and Miguel was lovin' it.

Until he wasn't 'lovin' it' and you would occasionally be touchy with many of the guys your father wanted you to marry. Miguel hated the flirtatious looks that you were giving them, the way you would touch their forearms and run your fingers across your collarbone drawing attention to your cleavage.

That was just enough to tick Miguel off completely. He knew what you were doing to him but how could he resist, when it came to you he was a fool.

When you walked up to the cocktail table and there was no one around he took you by the wrist and dragged you to a nearby powder room locking the door behind him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" you asked, backing up until the counter stopped you. He put his hands on either side of you on the counter trapping you.

"I think you know what I mean," he whispered as he brought his face closer to yours. His scent was intoxicating, you could smell the vodka and cigar in his breath. That scent was enough to make your knees go weak.

"Papá wouldn't let me talk to you, I just wanted to have some fun," you taunted.

"When do you ever obey your father when it comes to me? If you want fun you come to me," he smirked as he brought his face a single centimeter away from yours.

You nodded and draped your hands over his nape. "I'm yours," you said as you pressed your lips against his. He responded immediately to your kiss lifting you on the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist and deepened the kiss that was already dripping with passion.

He pulled away from the kiss and looked into your eyes, getting lost in them. "You know I love you right?" he asked, still lost in your eyes.

"Yes, of course," you smiled and sat up getting a little serious.

"Then you that I'm a fool for you, and you make me do crazy things," he said as he nuzzled his head into your shoulder. He breathed in your scent. You were wearing his favorite perfume too. Fuck. He thought to himself trying to resist ripping your clothes off right then and there.

"What is this about? What are you saying?" you questioned as you looked into his eyes a little panicked because he wasn't fully explaining himself.

"Just watch the news tonight at 10. Come, your guests will start to wonder where you are," he said as he led you out of the room.

The rest of the night went on smoothly. You stayed away from the guys you initially spoke to, you got what you wanted out of flirting with them. You spent the rest of the night admiring each other from afar all up to the moment after he got kicked out because his brothers were drunk and jumping into the infinity pool.

—

After the party was done and your social battery was intensely drained, you unwinded with a shower and some skincare. Afterward, you get into your bed and watch RuPaul's Drag Race with a Ben & Jerry's Half Baked Ice Cream.

Once the clock struck at 10:00 pm, you put on the news just like Miguel had told you to. It was the usual reports about politics until it was interrupted by a breaking news segment. The title read "8 WEALTHY SONS OF CONGLOMERATE FAMILIES MURDERED". When you saw the photos of the men who were killed your jaw dropped.

They were the bachelors you flirted with hours before. Just then you received a text message from Miguel saying "Ti amo[I love you], this is how crazy I am for you." you still couldn't believe your eyes, but what else was expected from Miguel? You were both crazy for each other and would do anything for each other. Except for going public about your relationship and disappointing your families. How could you tell your father that you are in love with the son of your mother's killer? How could Miguel possibly tell his brothers the woman he was seeing was the daughter of his parent's killer? You never do such a thing...

right?

. . .

→ next part

taglist: @dei-drei @starrygetou @decentsoupperson

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara hcs #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara hcs #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel o hara fanfic

[bonnibuckets]

— ambivalent | leon kennedy

synopsis: falling for your fwb isn't the greatest idea

content: leon x gn! reader, fwb, implication of sex, angst no comfort, slight violence, ooc possibly lol

words: 1.2k

note: sorry again for being inactive ALSO I found out how to do a gradient on text @kennedyswhore thank you for showing me!! also credit to @dilfverz for the “mature images” that i’m using taglist 🏷️: @ghostkennedy @adaelines @konigbabe @meowsiee @antidesire @alewesker @d34ng3l

You knew deep down that getting involved with him was dangerous, but you ignored the gnawing feeling in your stomach. In the same way that you ignored your feelings whenever he kissed you but fell to his knees when he saw Ada. Or how he would cast you aside whenever she needed him, and even the feeling that tugged at your heart when the sheets were empty when you woke up in Leon’s bed. 

By touch and by smell you’d know him blind and even in death, but you didn’t know if he could say the same. You knew this isn’t what you wanted or deserved, but you couldn't walk away, he was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from reaching for your fix. 

—

You were staring off as Leon kissed your neck and his voice broke you out of your trance. “Sorry,” you said manually blinking for a second before turning to him. “You've been off lately,” he caressed your cheek tenderly. It was as if he cared about your feelings and not that his plaything wasn't having fun with him. His touch was supposed to be comforting, but it had the reverse effect on you, you tried not to jerk your body in the opposite direction “Just been in my head” you said trying to avoid the topic. 

A voice in your head was screaming at him not to push it anymore– scared of where it might lead. It was becoming harder to ignore as Leon kept poking and prodding, “Come on tell me” he said pushing hair behind your ear. You quickly tried to form a lie but you were frozen like a deer in headlights. You were struggling to find the words as your throat let out strange noises. 

You knew you couldn’t keep pretending and lying to yourself “I-I” you stuttered and looked away– ripping yourself from his touch and warmth. “Love,” you said in a broken sentence, broken like how your heart felt. You debated not saying anything after that but you’d already opened your mouth so you figured enough damage was done already “Y-you”.

The silence that followed was deafening and you didn’t know what to do, you were completely paralyzed by what came out of your mouth and what Leon would say or do.  

It seemed like hours had passed before he spoke, “We talked about this” he said sounding annoyed. “I know” you whispered, you knew of what you agreed on– what deal you made, a deal with the devil. You got to have what you most wanted– which was Leon but at the expense of your heart. 

“Then why did you say that” he groaned getting up, you panicked and it was clear in your voice “I-I didn’t mean to!” you pleaded as tears formed in your eyes. You couldn't handle another cold night alone. You wished Leon would've miraculously developed deeper feelings for you and opened his eyes, but he’d much rather remain blind by his ignorance. You hoped he’d laugh and wrap you in his arms as he’d say “I love you too”. You prayed that his heart secretly wanted you and that this was all an attempt to save himself some face, but alas your wishes and prayers were futile. 

Leon didn’t love you the way you loved him and you both knew that.

He chuckled and you felt the gravity weigh on your heart, “You didn’t…really think that I loved you right?” he said softly smirking. You knew what he was doing, he knew you’d play along to not upset him– his little perfect toy. Tonight was going to be different though– something inside you snapped and you couldn't stand to look at him. “I didn’t but I hoped you did," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. “What?” he questioned and looked down at you, “I’m done,” you said calmly as you swung your feet off the bed. 

You collected your things as Leon stood there confused, you tried to walk out but he stepped in front of you. “Move please,” you said too tired to fight, “No we’re not done,” he said mostly to himself as if he was trying to convince his mind. “I want to leave,” you said feeling a little scared– an avalanche was forming and you could practically see it coming your way.

“N-no” his voice was unsteady, maybe because he knew his toy was tired of being played with— or maybe his ego was too high to realize that he needed you. Someone to fill the void in his heart and to be there to lift him up, but he ruined the only chance he had.

“Please Leon,” you said looking down at your feet, you needed him to move before you changed your mind. Before you decided to wrap yourself back into his warmth that suffocated you. 

“We’re not done” he repeated, returning to his ‘nonchalant’ attitude. “We are,” you said without much force behind it.

“Come on let’s get back in bed-” his voice was sweet like honey trying to convince you, but you wouldn’t fall into his trap. “No!” you said pushing him, “No more, I-I can't take it anymore!” you said as tears rolled down your face. “I can’t keep doing this! Pretending everything is fine, pretending that it doesn’t bother me!” you screamed holding your chest like the pain was physical and you were bleeding onto the floor.

“I can’t live like this, I can’t keep pretending…you love me,” you said finally looking up into his eyes.

He was taken aback and lost for words as you stood there and poured your soul in front of him. “I don’t understand” his voice croaked out, your brows furrowed and your fits tightened. “Understand what?!” you said, your voice gaining hostility. “I just don’t understand…where this is coming from,” he said chuckling.

Your vision went blurry as an avalanche of emotions washed over you as you lunged at him pushing him as hard as you could onto the floor, “You’re so fucking stupid!” you screamed and kicked him. “You think I was happy like this?!” tears were flowing and dripping onto him, “you think this is the life I deserve— to be treated like a fuck toy to only be discarded when I’m not needed?!”

The pain in your heart tenfold as you ‘gushed blood’ all over Leon, “You were supposed to be my friend for fucks sake” you cried and backed up. “You were supposed to be my friend Leon” you repeated thinking about everything and how it turned out. How everything went to shit, how he was your friend before a lover.

A friend before your feelings turned into more.

A friend before lips met one another.

A friend before warm flesh clashed and melted together.

A friend before he ripped your heart out. 

You walked away as Leon sat on the ground and didn’t fight for you to stay anymore, he knew it was over. He knew the friendship, the ‘love’ that was there vanished— all thanks to him. He often tried to blame others or something for the misfortune that followed him around but this mistake— he couldn’t point the finger to anyone but himself. He’d gone and ruined something that could’ve been beautiful.

All because he couldn’t handle the truth. 

© 2023 bonnibuckets. ─ do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on any platform without my permission.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #angst no comfort #leon kennedy angst #leon #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil leon

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐟. 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  dialogue  prompts  taken  from  quotes  of  various  f.  scott  fitzgerald  works.  feel  free  to  edit  as  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ you are afraid of being in love then? ❜

❛ i’ll kiss you if you want me to. ❜

❛ we’ll survive, you and i. ❜

❛ come and kiss me and let’s forget. ❜

❛ hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you. ❜

❛ i’m not used to being loved. i wouldn’t know what to do. ❜

❛ sometimes i don’t know whether we are real or whether we are characters in one of my novels. ❜

❛ wouldn't it be awful if we fell in love again? ❜

❛ i’m yours - you know it. ❜

❛ you’ve a place in my heart no one else ever could have. ❜

❛ books mean more than people to me anyway. ❜

❛ you’ve got an awfully kissable mouth. ❜

❛ i won’t forget you. i will promise to remember you always. ❜

❛ if i wait till i fall in love again i'll just wait forever. ❜

❛ things you’ve just said and forgotten, i’ve put myself asleep night after night remembering. ❜

❛ love isn’t like it is in books. ❜

❛ i'm telling you all of a sudden, but it isn't new with me. i love you. ❜

❛ i keep the light burning on your desk so i'll think you're there when i wake up. ❜

❛ the odd thing is that i’m in love with you anyhow. ❜

❛ won’t you let me lean against your shoulder just the smallest bit? ❜

❛ it’s been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful. ❜

❛ it's sweeter to be alone. ❜

❛ if you’re tired of kissing me, i’d better go. ❜

❛ i’ve formed the habit of liking you. ❜

❛ there’s something between us- a sort of pull. something you always do to me and i to you. ❜

❛ i won't have to build my love up. it's up in the skies now. ❜

❛ you’re trying to leave yourself behind, but you can’t. the more you try to run away from yourself, the more you’ll have yourself with you. ❜

❛ i’m sorry i had such a devastating effect on you. ❜

❛ i forgot everything. your lips were so beautiful. ❜

❛ say you love me. say it now — can’t you say it now? even if you don’t mean it? ❜

❛ i still love you. that’s the odd thing. ❜

❛ my god, you’re fun to kiss. ❜

❛ i wouldn’t change you for the world. ❜

❛ it's all so simple. he loved me and i loved him. that's all there is. ❜

❛ you’ve fallen for me — completely. you’ve got me in your dreams. ❜

❛ tonight there’s got to be no past or future, no time, just tonight, you and i. ❜

❛ of course you could never love anybody but me. ❜

❛ i’m a lost soul maybe — i don’t feel at all like i ought to feel. ❜

❛ i fell in love with you the first time i saw you. ❜

❛ in my heart i love her all the time. ❜

❛ and what in hell could we ever be to each other? ❜

❛ i realized what was the matter, what had always been the matter — i was deeply and incurably in love with her. ❜

❛ i’m more beautiful than anybody else, why can’t i be happy? ❜

❛ you intoxicated me. it was just as though you were making me love you by some invisible force. ❜

❛ it's because i love you, dear— ❜

❛ i once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption. ❜

❛ i loved you once — for a year i thought you were the only person in the world. ❜

❛ sometimes you think you’re so much in love that your love could fill the biggest palace conceivable. sometimes you haven’t got enough to fill one room. ❜

❛ his dark eyes took me in, and i wondered what they would look like if he fell in love. ❜

❛ people fall in and out of love all the time, don’t they? i wonder how they manage it. ❜

#f. scott fitzgerald #sentence starters #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #roleplay prompts #rp prompts #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay starters #roleplay memes #ask memes #inbox memes

[taeyegu]

introduce me a good person — 003. oh shit

previous // next

word count — 876

warning(s) — mentions of food/drinks/eating, intoxicated characters, cheating/infidelity 

the homemade dinner at the doctors' shared apartment went well with no fire alarm going off that night.

"i still can't believe y/n and wonwoo went to go get food without us." soonyoung pouted for the umpth time. wonwoo sighed as he finished up washing the dishes,

"y/n got hungry before so we decided to get something small to eat." he responded plainly. y/n walked over from the sink to sit next to soonyoung at the dining table,

"i'm sorry soonyoung!" y/n exclaimed, "i thought i was going to eat with sejun today so i skipped breakfast and lunch... by the time sejun cancelled on me, i was starving. wonwoo said i should eat something before we got the groceries for tonight." a small pout formed on her lips and soonyoung (nor anyone) could stay mad.

"that's no way to treat one's girlfriend..." jihoon mumbled under his breath over by the couch as he was doing some extra research on the surgery he was to perform the following week.

"guys, i know you all care about me but sejun is a genuinely great guy!" y/n smiled. wonwoo finished up the dishes and sat down in front of y/n and soonyoung at the dining table. he noticed the smile didn't reach her eyes like they usually do. "sejun has been with me through everything and i already told jihoon this but, i think he's gonna propose soon!"

"with what ring? the guy barely has any money..." junhui grumbled while also helping jihoon prep for his surgery.

y/n laughed, "you all know i'm not big on that stuff, it doesn't have to be a flashy ring! i don't need it!" she smiled, but her voice didn't sound as happy as she was trying so hard to portray to her friends.

"you might say that you don't need it but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a big flashy ring!" soonyoung exclaimed, "you're a catch y/n! and if a guy doesn't prove his worth to you, you deserve so much better!"

wonwoo sat quietly and listened as his friends talked on and on about y/n's relationship with sejun. it was almost a routine for the friend group: someone always bringing up how shitty of a boyfriend sejun was and y/n trying her best to defend him. however wonwoo knew that y/n was smart enough to make her own decisions, he knew even she was starting to get tired of sejun's constant excuses.

wonwoo's train of thought was interrupted by a text from his friend dr. kim mingyu of pediatrics.

"i have to go pick up mingyu." wonwoo stated as he got up from the table. he grabbed his keys and began to put on his coat.

"why, what happened to him?" junhui asked.

"he's intoxicated right now and at the sector 17 club a few blocks down--he needs a ride home." wonwoo responded as he slipped on his shoes.

"that no good guy..." soonyoung mumbled, "doesn't he have a shift tomorrow and he's out here getting wasted? what about the kids?!"

y/n laughed, "i don't know why you have beef with dr. kim all of a sudden soonyoung, i thought you guys were always friends?"

"well, we're like frenemies! i've noticed he's been talking a lot with the interns this year--trying to hype up pediatrics. but neurosurgery is where it's at!" soonyoung ranted, "he's even got chan considering pediatrics when he promised me he would join neuro!"

wonwoo didn't listen to the rest of soonyung's rambling as he closed the door to their shared apartment and started up his car to pick up dr. kim from his night out at the club. -- by the time wonwoo had found parking near his destination, he had already called his friend at least three times, "the guy probably can't hear anything with this music blasting..." wonwoo grumbled as he felt his car slightly shake due to the bass from the club.

he decided to get out of his car to try and look for the intoxicated doctor but noticed another familiar face emerging from the club entrance...

it was sejun with his arms wrapped around another girl.

"yo! wonwoo my man! glad you--" mingyu's loud voice slurred and wonwoo quickly quieted down the intoxicated giant.

"shut up! something might be wrong!" wonwoo whispered. mingyu quickly sobered up and followed wonwoo's line of sight to which he also noticed a familiar figure.

"isn't that y/n's boyfriend? are they also here at the club?" mingyu giggled.

"no, y/n was at home today with us." wonwoo whispered, his eyes never leaving the two as they stumbled around on the sidewalk waiting for their ride, "y/n and sejun were supposed to have dinner tonight but she said that he cancelled on her because he was still tired from his flight but--"

"oh so that scumbag is cheating on her!" mingyu whisper-yelled angrily.

"n-no, not cheating per se... they could just be friends--"

however just as wonwoo was finishing his sentence, the two men watched as sejun kissed the unknown woman deeply on the lips before the two left in their uber.

"i don't think friends kiss like that wonwoo..."

oh shit.

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[lovejosephquinn]

So the two polls I put out resulting in that you want more smut but you love chaotic drunk horny Joe.

So here's your filthy fix for tonight 💀

Joe thought he was tiptoeing his way back into the flat, but instead he was causing nothing but a ruckus. He didn't mean to knock over the key's he'd just laid on the countertop, plus a few other objects that sat on it, he'd managed to swipe them off in one swoop, creating a huge bang when his head slapped the corner of the table and his body had lifelessly just made it's way to the ground. You approached with caution out of your bedroom and towards the sound of clashing and profanities being loudly whispered.

"What time do you call this?" You smirked a look at your clearly intoxicated boyfriend.

"Time you got a watch." Joe called out, how original. You shook your head and offered your hand out to help him up, instead it ended in him pulling you down on top of him and he caught you by your hips, enabling you to find your feet and straddle over him, your hands moving through his messy curls a top of his head. His half dazed smile and droopy brown, exceedingly dilated eyes made you chuckle, but this was quickly changed when Joe pushed his lips onto yours, tilting his head to the side to gain better access. His tongue which pushed through into your mouth quite suddenly tasted of alcohol and cigarettes, the sign of a good night.

"I think there's a safer place we can continue this Quinn." You mumbled against him and he let out a snigger, his half hard erection pressing up into the clothed material of your pyjama shorts. You knew full well that this was the least he expected when he'd overdone it on a night out; you'd gladly give him what he needed so that he could pass out next to you minutes after.

"Does that mean I get sex?" Joe shot a wink at you and you nodded slowly, his eyes squinting at your features to make out behind the drunken blur of your agreeance to his question.

Joe practically crawled his way into your bedroom, scooting on his knees with his arms wrapped around your waist as you dragged him along. "God I missed you baby." Joe cooed.

"I missed you too, pisshead." You laughed and he pouted his bottom lip, insinuating what you had just said was an insult, but his cheeky little smile quickly returned, he wasn't fooling anyone.

Joe struggled to remove his clothes and quickly insisted that you do it for him, removing every single item, he stood before you completely bare and you licked your lips at his cock now standing to full attention. Taking a hold of it with your fist, you delicately began to move it up and down in a motion which had his head falling backward.

"Just like that." Joe growled, securing a bite of his bottom lip before returning his head to a normal stance and staring downward at the work you were putting in. You moved down onto your knees and licked the already leaking head of his cock, humming at the taste of him which was reserved just for you.

"You want more?" As if you had to ask.

"More." He nodded slowly.

You latched your lips around the head, taking a few extra inches in with it and leaving the rest for your fist to play with. Lapping your tongue around the spot he enjoyed most and hearing his broken moans had your core aching in seconds; there was nothing sexier than the sound of his whimpers.

"I love it when you blow me." Joe's breath hitched at once and you knew you had to stop immediately, it'd be over in a flash and you wouldn't get a thing if you continued now. His pout was back the moment you pulled away.

"More head." Joe ordered, his eyes growing wide with disappointment when you lingered for a moment and then sat back up onto the bed, removing your own clothing.

"No more, you'll cum." you took yourself up to lay your head onto the pillow and Joe slowly but surely followed you like your own shadow and leaned above you, propping onto an elbow to keep himself up, that wasn't to say he was completely steady in his wake.

"You tease." Joe managed, that was before his fingers moved down to your clit and began rubbing slow circles onto it, for a drunken idiot he sure knew the game you were playing and he was out to win. His digits moved down to your hole and back up to cover your cunt in your own slick and your moans fell into unison with his when his rubbing became more vigorous.

"Baby, you're going to be the death of me." Joe's cock came down to rest on your thigh as he humped downward, keeping his pace up on your throbbing clit as he used your body to get himself off.

"Joseph." He stopped when you used his full name, his lips parted and his eyes shot at you as if he were in some sort of trouble, but you used this moment as a way to push him over so he fell to his back and you climbed on top of him, wasting no time in pushing his length deep inside of you.

"That's my girl." Joe's back arched when he felt your walls clench around him, you sat up straight, guiding his hand back to your clit to continue the task he set out to do before whilst you rode him, the entirety of his cock buried, the tip now tapping your cervix. Joe enjoyed the view, over exaggerating his groans and stroking his digits messily against you. Your thighs shook when he hit a particular spot and you fell back a little, throwing his name around like a curse.

"Shit, you fuck me so good baby." Joe's eyes rolled back when he felt you tighten, the orgasm hit you well and truly and his hands found your hips, bouncing you up and down his length fast and furiously, both to ride out your high and for him to reach his a little quicker.

"So tight, so beautiful." He managed to blurt out before his whole body jerked, his hips bucked upward and his seed exploded inside of you. You continued to move against him to milk him for all he had to give you.

"Thank you." Joe grinned, his eyes back to drooping slightly as he came down from his release.

"For what?" You giggled, sliding off of him, your hole gaping at the sudden loss of contact.

"Giving me sex." You furrowed your brow at him like it wasn't supposed to be a given that sort of thing occurred in a relationship. He hadn't moved since you'd pushed him down, instead he lay in the same position and you had decided to not even announce the fact he was still sodden from the action. You just simply pulled the covers down from underneath him and tucked him in like a baby.

"Wait you forgot one more thing my darling." Joe's hand came up to grab your arm when you turned off the light.

"What's that?" You said lowly.

"A goodnight kiss."

"If I do that in your state Joe, we'll never get to sleep." "Let's skip that then, I'll be ready for round two in 5 minutes." That was followed by a yawn and Joe snuggling himself down into the sheets more. He was asleep within those 5 minutes and you were grateful for the silence and the fact he was on his way to sobering up. It'd only mean he'd thank you in the morning with said round two.

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