#I blame my father for my music taste | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skay-ali · 2 months ago

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The Forgotten Daughter

well I finally did it.

first of all merry christmas and enjoy the chapter

Dear family

This may be sudden... I don't even know why I'm writing this letter anymore, it was supposed to be about the big decision I made that would change my life, but even so I don't know why I'm leaving explanations.

My plan was always to never see you again, each of you, I still feel very hurt by everything, although I know that these words will not make a big change in you.

But enough berating them, I'm not racking my brain to find the right words for a letter full of complaints.

I was always a girl who avoided problems or at least I like to think I was, Father, brothers and my dear confidant Alfred, despite getting into big trouble.

The lights were flashing brightly, the music at full volume filled the room, it was very hot due to the sweat that all the bodies were emanating, you watched all the visitors of the club go crazy with euphoria after a few drinks and continued with a long list of crazy things, you On the contrary, you decided that it was one of those depressive days, where you spent your time seeing the bad side of everything and being miserable.

You didn't follow your friends to any of their craziness; on the contrary, you stayed in a place at the bar away from everyone, along with a few glasses full of a low-grade cherry-flavored liquor.

You still taste the light cherry flavor on your palate. There were so many liquors on the shelf, many of different sizes, appearances, names, years and strengths, you wondered if anyone ever drank them all, if there was a person who in his miserable, boring, short life provokes every liquor on the restaurant's menu. bar.

You looked away when you heard the sound of a chair being moved, you saw a man taller than yours, with a somewhat abrupt but attractive appearance. You took another sip from your glass and returned to your thoughts as you watched the people on the dance floor doing stupid things.

Or so you tried, but by discreetly observing the actions of the man near your seat, it was enough to capture your full attention, to what that guy does in his notebook with his pencil.

“What an artist,” you addressed the subject sitting one seat away from you, “what are you doing in a place as crazy as this?” You turned your gaze to the man with blue-black hair, as you watched him take a sip of his drink and draw with his pencil.

Their eyes connected when the man decided to leave his world and pay attention to your beginning of interaction, he couldn't look away in time, although you didn't blame him, you did the same before because of the curiosity you felt when he saw him, you felt like everything was coming together.

He paused, just him and you, as if the two of you were the only ones in a large room of strangers.

A smile left your lips when you saw the man's dazed attitude, he was so lost in himself that it seems that he forgot about your beginning of conversation until a moment later.

Still, you were afraid that it wasn't nerves that the man was feeling but anger or annoyance at your interaction with him.

“Even if you don't believe it, inspiration can be found in unlikely places… Or even sometimes a muse” came those calm words from his thick but reassuring and animated voice.

You were relieved to hear him speak, but those words that had no sign of annoyance or complaints.

“uhh it's like that... I only saw this place as a garbage dump full of vices” you didn't know how you were still trying to maintain an interaction with that person, perhaps prolonging the feeling of company instead of the one of loneliness sounded more attractive.

“You should look at it from other perspectives, so you'll find things like this” you saw him tear a page out of his notebook without blinking and put it on your forehead.

You were surprised to see your drawing on the paper. Every feature of yours delicately captured with each stroke of the pencil on the paper.

“wow you left me speechless for a moment” you disconnected your gaze from the sheet you had in your hands.

“You are actually a great artist” the drawing was extremely beautiful, you never considered yourself a very beautiful woman, it was common for you to see all your flaws before your best qualities, seeing that paper where you felt that in that drawing you were perfect caused you a feeling emotion and a passing confidence.

However, you couldn't get it out of your head to see yourself drawn in other ways on paper, like a cartoon or Japanese version of yourself; before this moment, you never even had the chance to sit on a bench and wait for an artist to draw you. .

“What's wrong with that face, you look disappointed, maybe you're kidding me” you heard him joke.

“No no… no… on the contrary, I really like it” you quickly defended yourself, afraid of offending the man.

“It's just that..” you felt shy when explaining your reasons, especially when he had an attentive gaze on you.

You saw his eyes wait expectantly for your words.

“You know, the drawing is beautiful, but… even though it sounds silly, I wish I could see myself more in a cartoon or comic” you laughed nervously, after your babbling.

“ahh, are you a comic book lover or something?”

“Yes, well it's something like that” you liked to read some series in comic magazines from time to time, but you preferred mangas, you hid this preference, you weren't going to receive a few words of displeasure for that or start a debate about what genre it was.

Better, much less explain what they were if I didn't know what you were referring to.

“I think I can fix that,” the guy said with an animated and funny voice.

You watched him, fascinated, by how he held his book with enthusiasm, his hands moved quickly from one side to the other on the white sheet, the pencil was handled quickly, you could tell that he had a lot of experience with the ease with which he did it.

It was a long night, between different conversations and laughter with the new guy you met, the night became more tolerable with the man by your side.

Between drinks and meaningless talks, laughter on both sides, silly dances on the floor full of people, just two fools doing the most pathetic steps they had plus some little improvised old waltzes, it ended in a new day with two sleepless but falices talking in a viewpoint of a building that showed the entire city.

Oh, father, you don't know how enchanted I was with that man I met on one of my many outings to parties, I was stupid and childish, but I still allowed myself to dream and love.

You didn't expect to meet again with such a man with whom you managed to connect, but that's how it happened, destiny somehow led them to meet.

You liked having a new person in your circle, with whom you managed to get along so well.

From talking about his work as an artist, giving his opinion on different comics and mangas that they knew, talking about animation to becoming hoarse from speaking with so much emotion and passion with long monologues.

They visited many hidden places in the big city in their days of adventures, even if they were alleys that were not very crowded, now that you think about it, such a careless action was very crazy, but the beautiful places, with new views, like an alley full of colorful fabrics and with different designs that hung over the street, the walls of a neighborhood full of drawings with different artistic techniques, but with many bright colors, the tall buildings that showed views of the entire city.

The days of movies with crazy plots, but that had you glued to the screen to see what happened next.

The rare meals from the carts or street stalls, which they consumed without problems while they sat to observe the lights of the city or the dark sky, accompanied by silence, but the two of them together.

In that moment where the two were together and talking, you felt that they were exchanging many words of great importance to both of them, but seen from other perspectives they were nothing more than insignificant.

That's what love did, right?

And all for one crazy night where you hope to go crazy on alcohol, after sinking into a self-compose for your life.

You will never be able to forget when he gave you his name and you gave him yours... well, half of it, you admit to having lied to him, even if you regretted it, you already knew the problems they would bring you later.

Well at least that's what you thought, you had no idea of the true consequences.

You only thought about the fear of telling him your real last name, that he would look for you and know who you really were, you were afraid that he would see you differently, no longer a strange girl he met in a bar, but the daughter of a millionaire with a history. questionable life, the mere thought of him using you was too much.

So you avoided him by mentioning the amazing last name “Wayne” and mentioning a fake one.

More specifically, that of your false identification, something crazy that you did in your wild adolescence was left to be useful in your future, that false identification that you made with your friends from school to visit different clubs, you used it when you became independent, so that no one It will bother you in your new life.

“_____ , _____ Jones” unsurely you stated your name, you still remember when you made the false identifications with your friends and among all of them you were looking for a new name and surname for the others, you kept your name and they gave you the last name of the protagonist of the book of fashionable at the time because of the film that adapted the story.

A mental chuckle caused you to remember this along with the taunts they threw at you about where your diary was.

“Kayle, Kyle Rayner,” the boy smiled as he introduced himself.

You followed his smile, something in his ended up infecting you. Just two fools in a bar telling each other their names and being ignorantly happy.

It's a shame that that happiness ended some time later, when you never saw Kyle again. Even with a card for him to contact you, you never heard from him.

You woke up happy, in his apartment, the day after spending a night together, alone, without any sign that the man was home, without any note or notice, you waited excitedly for him to return, but he never did, even when you left a message. letter and ways for me to contact you again if the ones they already had didn't work, you never knew anything.

Maybe it was all an adventure and you got carried away... they never clarified what they were, hell maybe he didn't even consider you a friend.

But you and I know, father, that all the fairy tales one creates end quickly, most of the time in the worst ways.

I ended up with a broken heart, still, I kept good memories... and her.

I know it is late, very late, as it has been for many years, but I must confess it, because no parents and siblings would want to know it in the worst possible ways….

Alice Wayne, my dear baby….

You leaned back in your chair as you wrote the last sentence, you did it, you wrote what was overwhelming you so much, the beginning of the letter.

Your eyes burned, a few treacherous tears running down your face.

Your family, your passing love and your beloved daughter always made you sensitive.

It wasn't something you could avoid.

You leaned your head on the headboard of the chair, letting all the blood flow to your head, something strange you used to do to clear your head, you looked at the ceiling and the walls around you upside down.

You noticed the crib on the side of the room near your desk where you were writing.

You saw your baby sleeping calmly, a peaceful face with no signs of discomfort, he was an angel.

Your little angel, and your light... you knew you would do anything for her, like you did right now.

I think if we are similar in some way father.

I ended up having a daughter through carelessness like you did to me.

I need to ask you a big favor father and not only of you but also of the whole family, the biggest and most important one I will do in my life.

If something happens to me... if I end up in big trouble or I no longer exist, any situation that prevents me from taking care of my beloved daughter.

Please watch over her.

Make sure she has the best future, a happy life with everything she needs, that she can grow up as a girl full of light, that she is always kind, wise and with a loving family.

If that's not something they can give you, find someone who can give it to you.

Take care of my treasure, my only happiness, my only family... I know I left a long time ago without saying anything and returned in a hurry to their lives.

Maybe one day they will call me selfish knowing the path I took to leave little Alice to them, the decision I decided to make was not easy, but I did it because I want the best for my little light.

We are all selfish and mean, I was all my life, since I knew that my happiness only depended on me, that I was alone in this world, that only oneself can save oneself.

I think I still am by thinking that I can force them to do something about my problem, I can't force them to take care of someone or take responsibility for a short period of time, turning their lives upside down.

But maybe... with all the love and affection that you could ever see felt for me, I can make you consider helping me and fulfilling my difficult request.

Father, brothers and Alfred... I never said it because of all the anger I felt, because of everything that happened in the mansion, which devastated my thoughts with a lot of anger, forgetting everything I had and made me have a comfortable and pampered life.

Thank you.

Well, he's the father and maybe a future yandere, it's a possibility.

after an exhaustive investigation into possible characters to occupy this role in the series.

although there may be other possibilities with other characters....

Like I tried with the penguin's son, if ___ had decided to hang out more with villains and they adopted her or became her godparents.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

#yandere dc #x reader #yandere batfam #yandere platonic #platonic batfam

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strang3lov3 · 3 months ago

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Rescue Mission

“You take him beautifully, birdie. Beautifully,” Ezra says, now drawing in and out of you at a faster pace. “Look how happy he is inside a’ ya. You’re soakin’ the fella.”

Tags - smut, dubcon, dbf/dad’s weed guy/uncle!ezra (he’s not your biological uncle. I promise), pussy job, unprotected piv, creampie, cock pronouns in excess, cock nicknames (fella, bastard), Ezra’s cock has a titan’s girth (thank @beefrobeefcal), fire hazards, somno ish, plumber’s crack, smoking weed, a tasteful amount of pussy pronouns, me writing Ezra comes with its own warning, surprise surprise Ezra is morally bankrupt, Beefro contributed so I’m not all to blame, Ezra has a lot more jizz than the average man. i don't know how to summarize this. Fic Help - thank you @beefrobeefcal for being my guiding light. Without you this fic would be nothing! thank you @endlessthxxghts and @noxturnalnymph for your eyeballs! A/N - heddo! I finished my research paper but I still have a few things to do as far as school goes, but the end of the semester is right around the corner!! Thank you all for being so patient with me this month. I love you. Mwah!

This is my submission for @sp00kymulderr’s cock pronoun event. I had so much fun with this!! Thank you for hosting, Gideon!!

After packing your old Vera Bradley weekender duffel bag with the last of your clothes for the long weekend ahead of you, you open up your phone one last time to check the weather. It’s not supposed to snow until later in the afternoon, but you’ll make it to your dad’s before then.

You haul your duffel into the backseat of your car, then carefully place two 9x13 Pyrex pans covered in tin foil next to it. Your dad asked that you prepare a couple of Thanksgiving sides - sweet potatoes and broccoli cheese casserole. Your dad is taking care of the turkey, with other extended family members taking care of everything else.

You do one last quick check to make sure everything is in order, taking care to give your cat an extra scoop of food.

Fuck - the litter box. You almost forgot! You thoroughly clean it so your neighbor doesn’t have as much work to do when they’re caring for your cat in your absence, but you realize you forgot to buy a new tub of litter at the store the other day. Not to worry, your dad left you some in the trunk of your car for some reason or another. You’ll just leave that for your neighbor to use.

You get into the driver’s seat after turning off all the lights and pull up directions to your dad’s on your phone and put on Father John Misty’s newest album, then you’re on your merry way.

About a quarter way through your drive, you have to turn your windshield wipers on. It’s not bad, but there’s the tiniest sprinkle of snow coming down. It’s probably nothing. People are driving like morons under just the threat of snow, but it’s nothing. It’ll be fine. At a stoplight, you change the music. This time, you listen to Love Deluxe by Sadé, one of your Uncle Ezra’s favorite albums. You wonder if you’ll see him at Thanksgiving.

Quickly, the snow becomes not-nothing. The further you drive, the worse it gets. The snowflakes are getting bigger and coming down heavier, and the road ahead of you is becoming so covered that you can hardly make out the white and yellow lines painted on the road. You’ve slowed to driving at about twenty miles an hour, and you’re growing nervous. It seems like you’re headed deeper into the storm.

Forty-five minutes pass, though you’ve not driven more than ten miles. It’s coming down now, and the roads are so thick with snow that you’re driving at what feels slower than a glacial pace. This is getting dangerous. The good news, however, is that you did see plow trucks driving down the opposite side of the median. Not confident in your ability to safely drive through what is now probably three inches of snow on the ground, plus the added slush and ice, you decide to pull over and wait for a truck to salt and plow the roads before continuing on your way. You turn on your hazards and watch the traffic move slowly ahead of you; it seems that nobody else has the same idea as you.

You text your dad first just to let him know that you’ll be a bit late, that you’re pulling over to wait out the storm and wait for the roads to be plowed.

Ok. Stay safe. - Dad.

Things could be worse, right? You’re safe and warm in your car, you have plenty of gas in the tank. It’s probably another 45 minutes of just waiting, but finally, it happens: plow trucks drive by, salting the roads in their wake. Halle-fucking-lujah. You adjust your mirrors, put your seatbelt back on, and throw the gear shift into drive. Aaand…

You’re stuck.

You press the gas again, and you’re still stuck. It doesn’t take long for you to start to panic. But your dad will know what to do, right? You call your dad and explain the situation to him.

“Try rocking the car,” your dad tells you.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Forward, reverse. Forward, reverse.”

With your dad on speakerphone, you try just that, but it’s a difficult maneuver. “It’s not working, Dad.”

“Okay, okay. Can you dig yourself out?”

“No!” you whine. “I am not doing that.”

Your dad’s eye roll is audible. “Alright. Cat litter. I left you cat litter in your trunk last time you came up, remember? Sprinkle that around your tires, it should give you enough traction to get out.”

“Cat litter…cat litter…”

“Yes, the cat litter. That I left in your trunk.”

You laugh awkwardly, “Yes. About that.”

Your dad groans on the other end of the phone, “You have to be kidding. Okay. Hang on, where are you again?”

“Just past…I don’t know. I’ll drop you a pin.” You text your dad your location. The text takes some time to go through, but it does.

“Alright. Uncle Ezra’s not far from you. I’ll give him a call, see if he can’t pick you up. Hang tight.”

“Isn’t he with you?”

“No,” your dad replies. “Why would he be with me?”

“I just figured he’d be up for Thanksgiving too.”

“I invited him, but I never heard back. Dude probably forgot. Okay, call you back.”

Sounds like Ezra. Ezra always was an…odd duck. You remember him visiting from time to time when you were a kid, and he and your dad would spend a lot of time locked in the garage together. It wasn’t until much later that you realized they were smoking weed.

Ezra’s not your uncle, not really. It’s just what he calls himself. He’s your dad’s old coworker turned weed dealer turned buddy. Probably still sells your dad weed, though. Ezra also used to sell your dad quarter sticks of dynamite for the Fourth of July, and both of them made you promise not to tell anyone about that.

Ezra was always a comforting, if somewhat peculiar, presence in your life. He called himself your guardian angel and texted you from an unknown number - he never has the same phone number whenever he texts you - on your twenty-first birthday, promising that one day soon he’d take you out for a beer.

Your dad calls you back. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Your dad cuts right to the chase. He tells you that Uncle Ezra is on his way, that he has your location and he’ll come pick you up in thirty minutes. Worry about towing your car later, et cetera.

“Okay. Love you. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Love you too, honey. Be safe.”

‘On his way’ your ass. True to Uncle Ezra’s style, he doesn’t show up until nearly two and a half hours later. It’s just like that time he told you he’d pick you up from something at eleven and didn’t show up until the clock said 11:47. ‘Yeah,” he said, ‘Clock still says eleven, don’t it?’ He pulls up next to your car in a beat up old Kia van, the same Kia he’s been driving for years.

Ezra hops out of his car, clad in snow boots, plaid pajama bottoms, a Carhartt jacket, and a fleece trapper hat. He stomps through the snow and opens your door, then ushers you into his van. “I apologize for the delay. Wasn’t expectin’ to be assigned a rescue mission,” he shouts at you. You’re not sure why he’s yelling.

You watch Ezra grab your prepared food and the duffel from the back of your car, his ass crack visible through his falling pants. Ezra tosses it all haphazardly in his before getting back into the driver’s seat. He’s covered in snow, stomping off the flakes before looking over at you. With his dark brown eyes narrowed in your direction, he scans you up and down. “What on God’s green earth is the matter with you? You intended to traverse without the proper coverage?”

“Excuse me?”

It takes your brain double the time to process Ezra’s words. You forgot about the unique way he speaks, his very particular vocabulary. You wonder where he picked up that way of speaking.

Ezra gestures to your torso. Oh, you think. Right. You’re just wearing a hoodie. You suppose it could have been a problem, had your car’s heat gone out.

“Jacket,” he chastises you.

“Yeah, no. I got it.”

“Then where is it?”

“No- like, I understood what you-” Ezra stares at you expectantly, with raised eyebrows. “Never mind.”

Ezra shakes his head in disappointment, then puts his foot on the brake of his Kia and pulls it into drive. “My domicile will have to do for you tonight, birdie. If you are amenable to it, of course.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “Works for me.”

It takes Ezra about forty-five minutes to drive back to his house, which is located behind a water tower and a church off of a highway exit. It’s in a secluded area, thick with trees, the snow much heavier on the unplowed roads over here. Ezra pulls into his driveway, then opens the garage via a remote control attached to his sun visor. He gets out of his seat first, then rounds the front of his van and opens your door. “Hold onto me,” he tells you, holding out his arm. “You’re liable to slip and fall on these slick grounds.”

You take hold of Ezra’s sleeve, and he carefully helps you out of the van and ushers you inside his house. “Get settled in. I shall retrieve your belongings and return to you post haste.”

You toe off your shoes and leave them on Ezra’s doormat, then begin strolling through his home, perusing through his belongings. His home is cluttered yet clean; lava lamps left on, paintings of St. Francis and St. Gertrude on the walls in his game room, which has floor to ceiling bookshelves full of board games and Dungeons & Dragons paraphernalia. A Halloween bucket full of month-old candy on the table. The house smells strongly of incense, and when you turn the corner and enter the living room you see that Ezra’s left his fireplace lit.

“Awh shit, must’ve slipped my mind,” Ezra says, noticing the same thing you do. He’s got your duffel bag on his back and the Pyrex pans in his arms. He sets all items down, then goes back into his garage without a word. A few minutes pass and you’re left confused by his absence, so you follow him.

“Uncle Ezra?”

Ezra’s at his workbench, the warm flicker of a flame illuminating his handsome features as he lights a joint. He blows out the smoke, then smiles at you. “Joinin’ me?”

“Uhhh…”

“C’mon,” he urges. “It’s the holidays.”

You join Ezra at his workbench, still unsure if you want to partake yet. While Ezra smokes, you study his workbench. There’s not one tool in sight, but there’s lucky bingo trolls, little Buddha statues, snow globes, and other little tchotchkes sitting on the bench. It’s lit by old, dim, rainbow Christmas lights, and little ornaments hang from the wire. You touch an ornament depicting John McClane from Die Hard in when he’s in the air vent, turning it side to side as you inspect it.

“Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker,” Ezra croaks out with a smile then coughs. He offers you his joint. “Let’s have ourselves a merry little Christmas, now.”

“It’s Thanksgiving, Ez.”

Ezra’s brows knit together, “What’d I say?”

“Christmas.”

“Oh.”

Ezra’s still confused as he puts the pieces together, and then he realizes you’re correct. “I suppose you’re right, little bird. In any case, s’a reason to celebrate with a little green, no?”

“I’m not sure Thanksgiving is the weed-smoking holiday.”

“Oh, but it is indeed, little bird. C’mere.” Ezra takes a pull from the joint held between his middle and forefingers, then, still holding the joint, puts both hands on your cheeks and pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours. He blows the smoke into your mouth, “Attagirl,” he says, his lips curled in a wry smile that makes your stomach churn and your heart flutter. You cough a bit, turning away from him to hide your flustered expression. Ezra pats you on the back. “You’re alright. You got it.”

He pulls off his trapper hat then, setting it on the workbench. His black hair all messy, and he’s gotten grayer since you’ve seen him last, but that little white streak is still prominent as ever. “Let’s get you somethin’ to eat. Betcha need somethin’ in ya,” he says.

Ezra ushers you inside, then sits you down on a barstool at the kitchen counter window. He opens his once white but yellowing-with-age refrigerator, scratching the back of his head as he examines his lack of contents in it. “I got…uh…” he trails off, bending his upper half to look through condiments and cans of ginger ale. “Wasn’t expectin’ company.” He opens a box of take-out, takes a whiff, and recoils. “Christ almighty,” he exclaims, “Don’t even wanna know what that most unholy concoction is.” then throws the box away.

You have to laugh. Ezra is as Ezra as ever. Charming, bizarre, endearing, confusing. He’s never had his shit together, not once. You slide out of your barstool, then head into the kitchen to join him. You nudge him to the side, then pull out your Pyrex pans of Thanksgiving sides from his refrigerator. He’s got an R2-D2 magnet holding up a paper full of logins and passwords on it. ‘ezralikesballs’ is his WiFi password, apparently.

Ezra smirks at you, tapping his index finger against his temple. “Smart girl,” he says, watching as you start pressing buttons on his oven. “Hold it right there–” Ezra pushes you out of the way and opens the oven door, pulling out various Halloween decorations, all of them plastic, before allowing you to preheat his oven. “Didn’t have a proper place to store ‘em.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How this man made it past forty years is beyond you. You preheat Ezra’s oven, then sit back down at the barstool as you wait for it to heat up. Ezra pours you a glass of ginger ale, and you spend the time until your food is warmed talking.

Ezra doesn’t have oven mitts or potholders, so you have to pull your pans out with kitchen towels. You carefully pull off the foil, and Ezra’s standing beside you with plates and forks, ready to serve you both.

“Goddamn,” he marvels, salivating at the sight of the food you prepared. “You made all of this?”

“I did, yeah,” you reply, smiling shyly.

“Beautiful. Jus’ beautiful.” Ezra serves himself first, a generous helping of both the sweet potatoes and broccoli casserole. He opens a cabinet and pulls out a can of Ocean Spray jellied cranberry sauce, “Knew this’d come in handy. Never hurts to have a can of this stuff for emergencies,” Ezra tells you, waving the can in your direction. He serves you next, then opens the cranberry sauce and puts a bit of it on both of your plates. You avert your eyes from the expiration date on the can. You don’t wanna know.

With a nod of his head, Ezra tells you to go sit in his living room. He pushes an ottoman in your direction with his foot, then sits down on his sofa. He pats the spot next to himself, “C’mere, sweetheart. Uncle Ezra missed his birdie.” You sit next to Ezra, who then turns on his TV. He puts on the Thanksgiving classic, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, which is also one of his favorite movies. “‘Tis the season.”

Ezra nudges you and leans down to whisper in your ear, “Wake up, sleepyhead. The hour’s come for us to adjourn to my quarters,” he drawls.

“Hm?”

You hadn’t even realized you were asleep, and asleep on Ezra’s shoulder at that. In your head, you thought you could still hear the movie, that you were following along to it. You’re surprised to see Steve Martin cursing out the airport attendant on Ezra’s TV.

“Bedtime,” he says. “Upstairs.”

“Oh. That’s okay, Uncle Ezra. I’m fine right here.”

“On the sofa?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

You turn your head to face Ezra better, stunned. “No?”

“This couch is Hans’ domain. Best not to provoke the fella. Don’t feel like settin’ him off tonight.”

Hans is Ezra’s cat that you’ve rarely ever seen, but have often felt when his feather-duster tail brushes your foot, heard him when he hisses at you before skittering off into a dark corner. He has to be in his twenties at this point, an Eldritch creature. Hans was ancient when Ezra found him palling around with a raccoon by his garbage, and that was years ago. Ezra’s always spoken about him like Hans is an abusive husband, that one wrong move could result in a reckoning most unpleasant. You’re glad to know the beast is well.

Ezra stands up first, then stretches backward, exposing his soft, pillowy tummy and happy trail to you. He smirks when he catches you looking. “Your turn, birdie. Up you go.” Ezra bends forward and takes hold of both of your hands, then guides you upstairs and into his bedroom.

You enter the dark room first, Ezra right behind you with his hand on the small of your back. He turns the lights on and his bed is neatly made with the scratchiest flannel sheets that have to be well over decades old, knit afghans that are even older and have absolutely seen better days. Ezra peels off his clothes, tossing them into a laundry basket on the floor. Clad in nothing but boxers, Ezra gets into his bed.

God, it is sweltering. Ezra’s house is warm to begin with, but does not heat efficiently at all. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and change, pulling out from your duffel only an oversized t-shirt. You’ll just be strategic, so as not to flash Ezra.

You return to Ezra’s bedroom, and he looks halfway asleep already. “Do Uncle Ezra a kindness, darlin’, and hit the lights for me.” Ezra makes a lazy gesture toward the light switch by the door.

You turn off the light, and darkness consumes the small bedroom until Ezra turns on his small CRT-TV, Die Hard playing and already halfway through. Another one of Ezra’s favorite films, as evidenced by the name he gave his cat and the little ornament in the garage. You’re not much of a sleep-with-the-TV-on person, but Ezra’s blackout blinds kind of freak you out so it’s nice to have that light. Plus, the volume is low enough. It’s been a long, long day. It weirds you out a little to sleep next to Ezra, but you know that while he’s a strange and bizarre man, he’s ultimately harmless. You slide into bed, exhausted to the point that you’re not even bothered by Ezra’s rock-hard mattress or the scratchiness of his sheets and blankets. The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re asleep.

You wake up in Ezra’s bedroom to that suffocating, smothering heat, the hot air so thick that it burns your nose and your throat. God, how does he sleep this way? His flannel sheets under your body are also warm, and Ezra’s insulating all that heat with his own body. Ezra’s cuddling you tightly, and you’re not sure when that happened, not sure whether he initiated it or if you did. Despite the heat, you don’t entirely mind when he snuggles you closer, curling himself around your body. Nuzzling the back of your neck, strong arms wrapped tightly around you.

Until you do mind.

He groans when he presses himself tightly against your frame, his hard cock against your ass as he ruts his hips into you.

“Uncle Ezra,” you whisper, scooting your body in the opposite direction. In Ezra’s unconscious state, he pulls you back against his body, now fully grinding his hard bulge into your backside with a rhythmic tilting of his hips. “Ezra,” you hiss, voice firmer.

“Wha…” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, his words slow and slurred. His brow pinched together and his eyes are squeezed shut to block out bluish light from his TV. “What’s ‘a matter?”

“You- your-” You swallow, trying to summon the words.

“What’s that? You’re havin’ a nightmare of sorts? C’mere, sweet birdie. Go back to sleep. I gotcha.” Ezra presses a kiss against the back of your head.

“N-no, fuck. Ezra-” You wiggle out from Ezra’s hold, then flip over onto your back.

The loss of your warm body against his cock, that’s when it all clicks for Ezra. “Ohhhh, I get it,” he murmurs, chuckling. “I understand perfectly well.”

“Yeah…”

“I do apologize, little bird,” Ezra says in a raspy, low voice. He reaches for your cheek and drags his pointer finger up and down the soft skin there. “The bastard’s got a mind of his own, doesn’t he?”

Jesus Christ, he’s so fucking weird. He? Ezra’s given his cock pronouns?

“S’alright, go on back to sleep, now.”

This has to be a nightmare. Or something in between a nightmare and a wet dream. You’ve had those before, anyway. You drift off to sleep once more, then awake again to Ezra’s bulge against you. This time, you feel more of him. His underwear is off, and he’s rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy. “Ezra!”

“What’s troublin’ ya now, birdie, tell me.”

“You…fuck.”

Fuck, it’s wrong. It’s so wrong and you know it. But goddamn, if his cock isn’t thick. Ezra keeps rocking his hips, grunting softly in your ear as he rubs his hard length against your pussy, arousal dampening the cotton of your underwear.

“I do apologize for wakin’ ya with my member, but he’s got a titan’s girth, birdie. What’s a man to do?”

Titan’s girth…what the fuck. You don’t even know where to begin deciphering that statement. Right now, the only thing on your mind is fighting the growing heat, that sticky feeling building deep in your belly as Ezra continues to grind against you. His little noises of pleasure aren’t helping in the slightest.

“Let’s get you outta these,” Ezra huffs rather impatiently, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, then pulls them down with a practiced ease. He tilts your ass, “Yeah, lay like that. You won’t even know he’s there,” he whispers, then slots his length between your lips, coating himself in your arousal as he moves his hips. “Don’t pay him any mind, birdie.”

“Ez- oh, fuck–” you gasp when the thick head of his cock catches against your clit, sparking a pleasure even more intense. “We - you can’t.”

“Oh, I know, angel. He just needs to feel ya a bit, that’s all. Not gonna feel any sort ‘a - fuck–” Ezra notches his tip inside you, only temporarily as he continues rutting, “Any intrusion of any sort.”

“O-okay.”

Ezra snakes a hand under your shirt and paws at your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh in such a manner so as not to be too harsh, but god, he could tear you apart. Ever the gentleman, he holds back, teasing your nipples with his fingers instead. You moan a little louder, a little more sweetly when he does that to you.

It’s an excruciating tease - long, arduous, excruciating. Ezra needs more from you. He could get himself off just like this, fucking your slick folds and no more, but Ezra’s really not one to deprive himself. He’s always been a bit of a libertine in that regard, believing that pleasure’s good for the heart, good for the soul, too. He can’t stave off his hedonistic tendencies much longer, “Ohh, Christ. You feel how fuckin’ hard he is? He needs ya somethin’ fierce, birdie. Needs to be inside that sweet cunt of yours.”

“Ezra…”

“Why don’t you let him in, sweetheart? You need it too, I know you do.”

“We really shouldn’t, Ezra.”

“Says who, sweetheart? Ah–” Ezra notches his tip inside you fully, inching inside you little by little, “You cure what ails him, little bird. Be a lamb, now.” Ezra pushes inside you in one full thrust, burying himself down to the hilt. Ezra did get you sufficiently wet, but it’s still, still such a stretch. You wince in pain, and Ezra covers your mouth to quiet your cry. “You’ll get used to him. Relax, angel. M’gonna have him take good care of ya.”

With that, Ezra builds a slow pace at first. Just steadily moving in and out of you, his short term goal only to get you used to the thickness of his member. “Ezra,” you sigh.

“You take him beautifully, birdie. Beautifully,” Ezra says, now drawing in and out of you at a faster pace. “Look how happy he is inside a’ ya. You’re soakin’ the fella.”

Ezra moves fluidly, thrusting in and out of you as he breathes heavily in your ear, whispering swears you’ve only rarely heard him speak. This angle in particular has Ezra hitting that most special place inside of you as that hot, fiery pleasure inside you intensifies tenfold.

He’s sweaty and warm against you, his body slick with sweat. You clutch his forearm as he fucks you, rocking your hips to match his thrusts. He feels so fucking good, good enough to scramble every thought in your brain. His cock is so long and thick and curved at just the perfect angle.

Ezra wriggles his arm down the front of you, fingers immediately finding your clit. You gasp when he touches it, rubbing perfect, practiced circles into the sensitive bud. “Oh fuck, Ezra.”

“Yeah, she likes that, doesn't she, birdie? Don’t take much at all.” Ezra smiles behind you, then presses a kiss against your cheek. He breathes you in as he fucks you, rubbing your clit with precision to bring you to the edge. Within seconds, you’re whimpering, thighs twitching against his large, masculine hand. “Let go,” he grunts. “Come all over him.”

With his ministrations, his cock fucking you perfectly, you come with a loud symphony of moans, a mixture of swears and Ezra’s own name. Your pulsing cunt coaxes Ezra’s own orgasm along, walls squeezing around him as he paints your insides with so, so much come. A truly astounding amount of come.

“Ohhh, he needed that,” Ezra groans, pulling out of you with no regard for his spend that spills out of you and onto his flannel sheets. “Thanks for humorin’ him, birdie. Go on and get some sleep now.”

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with some kind thoughts or send me an ask!! Your feedback means the world to me and keeps me motivated to write, and goes so far in making this blog feel like a community 🩷

#ezra x reader #ezra/reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect smut #ezra fanfiction #ezra prospect #Ezra prospect x reader smut #ezra prospect x you #Pedro pascal characters #prospect (2018)

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sailorsoons · 8 days ago

Text

Santa Baby (j.ww)

PAIRING: Wonwoo x reader

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend is stuck working on Christmas Eve in hell on earth. You decide to pay him a little visit to cheer him up - and give yourself a good laugh.

WC: 1,400

AU: Established Relationship

GENRE: Fluff, Humor

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Cranky reader, children slander because the author (me) is a childless wench, some light suggestive talk at the end, explicit language, a single chaste kiss.

A/N: This was originally a request for @kkaetnipjeon on my sailorrhansol blog before my blog was shot in cold blood. So now I'm posting a Christmas drabble in the middle of February :)

A/N 2: This is not beta read - I just used spell check because I am ungovernable.

MAIN MASTERLIST | PERMANENT TAG LIST | ASK

Christmas Eve at the mall should be illegal. It’s most certainly a hazard to your health as yet another family bumps into you with their handful of demons - children - nearly knocking you into the swing sign at Victoria Secret telling you to buy something so someone could unwrap you.

You would love for someone to be unwrapping you right now in the warmth of your home in the sheets that smell like laundry detergent and spicy cologne. The man who would do the unwrapping, however, is currently only available to the population of the world’s most hellish mall.

Which is why you’re in said hellish mall in the first place.

Christmas music blares over the speakers of the mall. The smell of grease and the distinct scent of cheese drifts from the food court. Your stomach rumbles, not for the burnt taste of Sbarro pizza but at the thought of going home and finally digging into a proper meal.

That will have to wait, though.

Smack in the center of the mall is a towering platform decorated like a winter wonderland. Occasionally, a snowblower from somewhere on the second floor shoots out foam, turning it into the North Pole proper. It earns a combination of screaming in delight and terror from the mostly-kid population waiting in line to walk up the metal catwalk to the top of the winter wonderland where Santa is waiting for them.

Sighing, you get in line, by-stepping a little girl covered in sticky candy cane residue as she runs from her mother, tears streaming down her face while screaming she doesn’t want a picture with tanta. Well, you’re not sure who tanta is but you can’t blame her, looking at your watch to see it’s nearly eight o'clock at night.

The line moves sluggishly slow. You shift back and forth on your feet, scrolling mindlessly through social media. The mother in front of you accidentally knocks your phone with her purse as she shifts one of her screaming children from one arm to the next.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe him. You wince. You get it - she doesn’t have it easy. “And sorry for his screaming.”

“That’s okay, I think it’s a requirement for kids to scream during the holidays. It’s like an instinct.”

She laughs. “Is this one yours?”

You look to where she’s pointing. There’s a child standing next to you with snot running down his nose and a grinch t-shirt on with several questionable stains. He looks up at you with big brown eyes, blinking and asking, “Dada?”

“No, definitely not.” You point to the father swiftly coming over to scoop the child, an apologetic look on his face. “That’s dada, buddy.”

“Dada,” the kid agrees, turning to reach his arms up as he’s scooped up and taken away from the line.

“Oh.” The woman in front of you frowns. “No kids? Just here to see Santa yourself?”

“Yes. I want to ask him to destroy all the Cybertrucks.”

“Oh.” End of conversation.

One less friend and an infinite amount of line to go, you flip through your work emails, cringing to see how many people think it’s appropriate to send you emails on Christmas Eve. Don’t they know you have a line to stand in for forty five minutes?

You think about asking Santa to send all your coworkers away like Kevin on Home Alone, but realize you’d still be expected to take on all their work. Maybe you should ask for the destruction of capitalism. That seems like a world-wide benefit.

Finally, the line moves forward significantly. The metal catwalk twangs underneath your boots. You lean on the greasy rail, listening to the musical styling of Mariah Carey as she earns yet another number on her paycheck as foam snow blows overhead.

In a weird way, it’s not terrible. You look around, drinking in the miserable families just trying to take a last second holiday photo, late shoppers scrambling to get the last of their presents before tomorrow morning, the kitschy decorations making up the mountain with Sana’s chair somewhere at the top.

You grin, feeling a sense of nostalgia as the line moves forward again. It might be an annoying way to spend your evening, but there’s no denying there’s a bit of magic in the air, even for capitalism Christmas. And Sbarro pizza.

Finally, you near the top landing. There are elf workers helping take photos and managing the line while Santa sits on a gold chair with velvet cushions. His robes are equally as red, nearly blending in with the seat save for the white beard and hair and the slightly askew glasses as the little kid in his lap knocks him in the head.

Coughing to disguise your laughter, you watch as Santa delicately removes the child from his lap and gives a hoarse ho ho ho before sighing and readjusting to accept the next family. He doesn’t see you in line, entirely focused on lifting up the little tyke in front of him into his lap to ask what he wants for Christmas.

The teenage elf working the line looks you up and down, raising her brow as she chews her gum. “How many?”

“Just me.”

“Oh. Ummm. Alright I guess. You get five minutes with Santa. Please don’t go over time. Your photos will be available at the kiosk downstairs. Take this ticket and they’ll print them.”

You take the piece of paper from her. “How much are photos?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Jesus Christ, do I get to kiss him on the mouth too? Why is it so expensive?”

She stares at you before turning over her shoulder to see the family leaving. “I don’t make the prices. Your turn - and don’t kiss Santa on the mouth.”

Shoving the ticket in your pocket, you mutter under your breath that you can actually kiss this specific Santa all you want. The Santa in question turns to greet you, halfway through his greeting when he sputters,” Ho-ho- holy shit what are you doing here?”

“Wow, what terrible language, Santa Baby.” You grin, plopping yourself on his lap. Wonwoo nearly drops you as you do, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. “You smell like cheese.”

“It’s the food court,” he mutters. “It won’t leave me, I swear.”

“Gross.” You adjust his glasses, heart fluttering. “You look cute.”

He does, in a weird way. Not because the giant suit and the beard and the hair are flattering, but because you know it’s Wonwoo underneath it all. Wonwoo who somehow got roped into covering for Mingyu as a mall Santa for the evening, Wonwoo who is a little bit overwhelmed by kids but eager to make them laugh anyway, Wonwoo whose grip tightens on you a little, eyes sparkling at your arrival.

“Do I?”

“No, but I like you anyway.”

“Alright, pose with Santa,” the photographer says.

Both of you ignore him as Wonwoo laughs. “So,” he hums. “Have you been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I drove an hour in traffic to come to this shitty mall and then fight for parking for another forty-five, got run into by a bunch of families, stood in line and got called dada or mama like four times, all to come see my boyfriend and make his night a little better.”

“Got it. Nice list.”

You brush stray white hair from his beard. “Definitely nice list.”

“Thanks for coming to see me.” He hugs you a little closer, softening. “It’s really sweet of you. I’m off in an hour.”

“Good. I’m hungry and I want to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol with my own personal Santa Baby.”

“Is that what’s on your Christmas list?”

“Yes. And for all the Cybertrucks to be destroyed.”

His laugh is jovial. You think Wonwoo’s laugh outranks Santa any day, full-bellied and cute. You feel your affection swell, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips despite the teenage elf telling you not too. Too bad she doesn’t decide if you get to kiss your boyfriend or not.

“Hey!” She yells behind you. “I told you not to kiss Santa!”

“I’ve gotta go,” you laugh. “I think I just made the naughty list.”

“I’ll see you at home?”

“Mhmm.” You think of the Victoria Secret sale sign. “Come unwrap me.”

PERMANENT TAG LIST

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched @eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume @yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries @archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersona @beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen @mingumis @kimsaerom @imlonelydontsendhelp @eunyi @smiileflower

#wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #svt fic #svt fluff #wonwoo x you #seventeen x you #svt x you

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bambisworlds · 5 months ago

Text

bambi and her bodyguard

simon "ghost" riley is bambi's bodyguard, he worships the ground she walks on but fights his feelings for her. well, until he can't anymore (5,121 word count)

*bambi is my oc, click on my pinned 'about my blog' post to learn more about her :)

content warnings, mdni 18+

f!reader, bambi!oc, bodyguard!simon, unmasked!simon, gentledom!simon, innocent!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader (but not a virgin), simon is down bad for reader, protective!simon, jealous!simon, oral (f. recieving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of "Daddy" (2 times), use of "good girl", lottts of praise, not really a warning but frequent consent checks (consent is sexy), frequent usage of pet names, let me know if i missed anything x

my masterlist

Simon never expected to like his charge for his latest bodyguard gig. The contract would only last for a year, and then he'd likely move on to whatever spoiled brat he was assigned to next. He retired from special forces 5 years ago. He thought he'd enjoy it, but as it turns out he hates to sit still. So, he started working as a bodyguard 2 years ago. He's had 8 jobs so far, most of them were short-term gigs. Bambi was his latest assignment.

Her name wasn't actually Bambi, but the nickname fitted her well. She looked as if she belonged in some flower field where the sunlight could shine on her, making her hair glow in golden hues. Bambi was gentle and skittish like a deer with big doe eyes. The object of innocence and sweetness. He wanted nothing more than to taste the sweetness of her lips and her cunt, but he couldn't go there. He wouldn't.

Bambi was the daughter of the CEO of a luxurious company. He was a billionaire, and like most wealthy and famous people he had people who hated him. Her father was receiving threats on both himself and more importantly, Bambi. His words to Simon in the consultation before he was hired were; "She's too good for this world, too innocent. These thugs would squash her like a bug."

Her father was right, Bambi was too good for this world. And he would do whatever it took to keep her from its harsh realities.

Simon stood outside of her bedroom, he could hear pop music faintly playing inside. Probably Ariana Grande or SZA, which Bambi had been educating Simon on against his will. Bambi had plans to go out with her best friend, Florence. She and Florence have been friends since middle school. They were an unlikely pair. Florence was outgoing, raunchy, and bold. Bambi was not. Bambi was shy, polite, and kind. Florence, like Simon, knew Bambi was precious, so she often used her boldness to defend Bambi, which Simon greatly appreciated.

Simon had been staring at the wall across from him in a haze as he listened to Bambi's faint, melodic humming from inside her bedroom. He was practically in a trance. But, he was snapped out of it as Florence came strutting down the hall.

"Hey big stuff," she greets Simon with a wink as she walks into Bambi's room without knocking.

"Florence," Simon greets flatly. As if there was some magnetic pull between him and Bambi, he turned so he could look into her room. Florence had left the door open after she entered. Simon leaned on the doorway as he watched Florence try to coax Bambi to do bolder eye makeup. Simon didn't think it was necessary. She looked angelic with her usual soft, pink eyeshadow and the delicate highlighter on her nose that gave her a natural but ethereal glow.

Simon barely registered Florence's outfit, his gaze was hyper-focused on the silk, pink dress Bambi was wearing. It had fine flower designs on it with a low cut, giving a glimpse of her cleavage. Simon gulped and forced himself to look away, pretending to seem intrigued by the collection of romance novels on her bookshelf.

"Si's coming with us," Bambi says, her sweet voice calling Simon's attention back to her like a siren call. He blamed the flip in his stomach on the shitty Chinese food he had for lunch, not her calling him 'Si'. She was supposed to refer to him as Ghost, but Simon wanted to hear his name on her lips, so he asked her to call him Simon two weeks into his job.

"You won't even know I'm there," Simon says, his tone dull, as she tried to prevent Florence's unavoidable bitching about him accompanying them to the blues bar they were going to.

"Yeah, right," Florence scoffs, turning towards Simon, "What are you? 6'4, 6'5? I'm sure I won't even notice your sasquatch ass behind Bambi the entire night," she says with a roll of her eyes.

"He's just doing his job, be nice," Bambi coaxes Florence with a gentle touch on her arm.

Simon watched transfixed as Bambi adjusted her hair in the mirror. It was neatly curled with a lovely, pink bow on the back of her head to keep her hair out of her stunning eyes. Bambi adjusted her dress and turned to Simon, "Are you ready?" she asked gently.

Simon cleared his throat, he barely listened to the words she said, he was too focused on her otherwordly-like appearance. "Yeah, I'm ready," he says gruffly.

"Good, let's go," Florence says and takes her hand, pulling her along with her as she exits Bambi's bedroom.

The whole drive to the blues bar was torture for Simon. He tried to stay focused on the road, but his eyes kept involuntarily drifting to the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of Bambi.

"I need to find you a man," Florence says to Bambi and Simon snaps out of his daze. His eyes fly to the rearview mirror again at almost inhuman speed. Florence was perceptive, or at least more perceptive than Bambi, so she had picked up on Simon's feelings for Bambi. And damn, did she love torturing him with it.

"I don't know, no guys seem to be the kind that I want," Bambi sighs, fidgeting with her purse, "I've tried dating apps, but they all just want hookups or they ghost you once things start to get serious. I want someone to understand me, to want to understand me."

I understand you. Simon wanted to say but bit his tongue.

"Maybe we'll find your Prince Charming tonight," Florence says to Bambi with a gentle smile, before turning to look at Simon in the rearview mirror with a mischievous smirk. Simon scoffs under his breath and focuses back on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

Simon was two seconds away from punching something, someone, in the face. He never had the desire to hit a woman before, but damn was he itching to as he watched Florence introduce Bambi to a group of frat guys. Simon was positioned at the opposite end of the bar so he wasn't breathing down their neck, but could still see them clearly.

Simon wasn't supposed to drink on the job, but he went against protocol and downed a shot of bourbon after one of the frat guys rested his hand on Bambi's lower back.

His grip tightens on the now empty glass as Bambi smiles at the guy shyly, her cheeks tinted pink. Simon was practically seething when Florence looked at him over her shoulder with a smirk, clearly enjoying his struggle. She wanted him to man up and tell Bambi how he feels and she was gonna make him, one way or another.

After another grueling half an hour of watching the string bean of a human flirt with Bambi, Simon stood, the bar stool scuffing from his abrupt movement. He practically stomped over to them, stopping when he was positioned behind Bambi. The frat guy slowly looked up at Simon, who stood nearly a foot taller than him, he could see the unease in his eyes. Simon reveled in it.

"Your dad wants you to go home, said he got a new threat in the mail," Simon says flatly, his eyes bearing into the man's face. Bambi flinched at the sound of his deep voice, unaware he had been behind her. Simon grabbed her wrist, but with a gentleness that contrasted his rough exterior, and started to lead Bambi out of the bar. Florence followed after them with a slight smile.

Simon led Bambi to the car, he offered her his hand as she got in and closed the door behind her before getting in the driver's seat.

“Thanks for the help,” Florence mumbles as she gets in the car as well without any special treatment from Simon.

“I’ll drop you off on the way,” Simon says flatly to Florence. His eyes were dark, situated on the road ahead of him as he spoke. Florence knew she had pissed him off tonight, and she couldn’t be happier about it, which Simon knew, pissing him off further.

Simon pulled in front of Florence’s apartment. Bambi bid her goodnight.

Florence stopped at the driver's side window, “You better not fuck this up.” She says to Simon, a quiet warning before she heads up to her apartment.

Her words rang in Simon’s ears the whole way home, he really didn’t want to fuck things up with Bambi. But he needed to taste her, to be surrounded and engulfed by her sweet, addictive, scent.

After pulling up to the Bambi's father's mansion, he killed the engine. His heart pounded in his chest at the knowledge that her father was away on business. He fell into the usual routine of helping her out of the car and walking her to the door with a protective hand on her lower back.

Simon held open the door for her, and once she entered he did as well, closing the door behind them and locking it. Simon stood, utterly motionless and silent, as she took off her Mary Jane shoes. When she straightened back up Simon spoke, "What do you want in a boyfriend? What traits, what behaviors?" Bambi turned to look at Simon, her delicate features furrowing slightly from the question. "I'll be any of it, anything you want," Simon says, hating the slight desperation in his tone.

Bambi's big eyes scanned over his face with a mix of confusion and understanding.

"What do you want?" Simon asks again.

"I want them to be like you," Bambi says softly.

Simon swallowed roughly, his hand twitching with the effort of keeping still. "Like me?" Simon asks, his tone flat.

"Not like you," she says, her voice soft and airy, "I want you."

Simon could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the entire world seemed to get smaller and smaller until only Bambi remained. Before he could think twice about it, he walked over to her in two long strides and captured her lips with his. The softness of her lips made his head spin. His large hands moved to span across her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"You want me?" Simon asks, his lips a breath away from hers, "You can have me." he says, his voice gruff. "Whenever you want. However you want."

Bambi let out a shaky breath and kissed him again, her soft hands moving up to rest on the back of his neck. Simon's legs nearly gave out from the eagerness of her kiss, but he forced himself to pull away again, "How do you want me baby?" Her eyes flicker between his, a silent storm behind her eyes as she tried to get the courage to say what she wanted, "It's okay, you can tell me. No need to be an embarrassed sweetheart." he says, his large hand lifting to rest on the side of her face. Bambi looked down at her legs briefly then back up at him. Simon smirked, "You want me down there?" his head nodding towards her thighs. Bambi nods timidly, nibbling on her bottom lip anxiously. "Good girl," Simon praises before leaning down again to kiss her.

His hands slip down to underneath her thighs, lifting her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. Simon managed to make his way up two flights of stairs and down a hallway without looking as he kissed Bambi like she was his only supply of oxygen.

He kicked open the door to her bedroom, then kicked it shut behind him before carrying her over to her plush bed. He laid her smaller form on the pink comforter. "Can I move these?" he asks gently, motioning to the four squishmallows propped up against her pillows. Bambi nods and Simon smiles slightly, moving them over to the bay window before returning over to her. He stands over her, his fingers softly tracing along her thighs that were on either side of his legs.

"Now, I need you to do something for me, okay sweetheart?" he asks and Bambi nods. "Whatever we end up doing, if you want me to stop, or it doesn't feel good, you gotta tell me. Sound good?" he asks and she nods again. "Good," he says softly and leans over her body, his hands braced on either side of her head as he kisses her once more. Simon moans against her lips and braces one arm beside her head, the other sliding down to rub her side soothingly. His hand progressively moves down to her thigh, bunching up her dress slightly. He slowly eases the skirt of her dress up higher until her panties nearly peek out from beneath it, "This okay angel?" he asks and Bambi nods, her hands resting on his broad shoulders.

Simon pushes up her dress to her belly button, exposing her cotton panties to his eager gaze, "Cute." he mutters with a small smile as he looks at her panties. Simon leans down to place a kiss on her covered mound before standing straight again. "Can I see these pretty tits too?" he asks, gripping the fabric of her dress again as he prepared to lift it up higher. Bambi nods, "I need words sweetheart." he says with a gentle smile.

"You can take it off," Bambi says, her voice breathy with a slight tremble.

Simon leans down and gives her a gentle kiss, "Good girl." he mumbles against her lips before straightening up to take off her dress completely, “I’m gonna treat you like a princess tonight, sweetheart.” Simon says huskily as he lifts the dress up over her head. Bambi lifts her arms to help him, then rests them at her sides once the dress is off. Simon lets out a shaky breath at the sight of the delicate, lace bra that hid her breasts from view. "Such a pretty little thing," he breathes as he leans back over her body to plant kisses over the swell of her breasts. Bambi shivered, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. "Nervous baby?" Simon asks, lifting his head slightly from between her breasts to look up at her.

"A little," she says softly.

"Then let even the playing field a bit then," Simon smiles and pulls off his own shirt so perhaps she'd feel less exposed. "How's that?" Simon asks, tossing his shirt on the floor without a second glance.

Bambi gulps, her eyes flickering over his chiseled chest and abdomen, "Good." she says shakily. Simon chuckles in amusement.

"Now, we'll take this as far as you want, or do as little as you want, okay?" he asks and Bambi nods. "Can I take this off too?" Simon asks, his fingers ghosting over the straps of her bra. Bambi nods, "Use your words, baby." he reminds her gently.

"You can take it off," she says, arching off the bed slightly so he could unclasp her bra. Simon reaches behind her and unclasps her bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down her arms until her breasts are exposed. He folds her bra and sets it on the floor with a carefulness he didn't express with his own clothing. As Simon looks back down at Bambi, her chest heaving from anticipation and nerves, he felt his cock twitch. This little creature had the most perfect tits he's ever seen.

"Damn, little one," Simon says with a dramatic exhale as he drinks in her exposed chest. "Is it okay if I taste 'em?" Simon asks.

"Yes," Bambi asks, remembering to answer verbally this time.

"Such a good girl," Simon praises as he leans down to take her left nipple between his lips. He moans in satisfaction, his right hand coming up to squeeze its twin. "How's that feel baby?" he mumbles against her breast.

"G-Good," she says, her hands gripping the comforter beneath her. Simon smirks against her breast, moving over to her right breast to give it the same attention. He suckles the bud gently before pulling back to admire her tits again. Simon moans at the sight, his hands cupping and squeezing the soft mounds.

"Perfect fuckin' tits," he mumbles under his breath. His distraction from her breasts breaks as he looks down at her panties. "How about these, baby? Can I take these off?" he asks, nodding down towards her panties.

"Yeah," she answers, her grip on the comforter relaxing as he lets go of her breasts. He slips his fingers beneath the delicate fabric, "Lift your hips for a second sweetheart," he says and Bambi complies. He slides them down her thighs until they dangle from her ankles. Simon leans down to place a gentle kiss on her right ankle as he removes her panties, setting them on the floor with equal care he did with her bra.

Simon's focus returns to Bambi momentarily and his head falls back with a dramatic groan at the sight of her bare mound. He lifts his head again, sighing heavily as he rests his hands on her thighs. "Remind me what I want you to do angel," Simon says, looking back up at her face.

"Ask you to stop if I don't like something," she says softly.

"That's right, good girl," he says as he slowly pries her thighs open. Simon's mouth waters as he spreads her thighs, his eyes drinking in the sight of her pink, glistening folds. "Fuck," he whispers to himself, taking a moment to admire her bare sex. Bambi's cheeks turn pink and she looks away, growing flustered by his heated gaze. Simon smirks, "Don't get all shy now baby, you've got a pretty little pussy, might as well show it off." Simon leans forward, kneeling between her thighs and he plants a gentle kiss on her clit and Bambi jerks slightly.

"Have you ever had sex baby girl?" Simon asks Bambi. He knew she had a boyfriend before he was hired as her bodyguard, but he wasn't sure if they went all the way or not.

"Yeah, a few times," she says shakily. Simon nods in acknowledgment and kisses her clit again. He places a kitten lick on her clit before sucking it between his lips. He lets out a low moan at her taste, gently sucking on the sensitive bud. Bambi exhales shakily, her thighs twitching slightly. Simon keeps a gentle hold on her thighs to keep her spread open for him as he ravishes her pussy. Simon's technique was slow and unhurried, wanting to drag this out for not only her but for himself. He wanted to savor her taste and the sounds she made.

Simon's eyes flickered up to her face as he slid his tongue inside her. She gasped and her back arched slightly, a good sign. He began to pump his tongue in and out, lifting one of her thighs onto his shoulder so he could move his tongue deeper. Bambi let out a sweet moan, her face scrunching up slightly as his tongue slid deeper inside her. Her delicate hands gripped the pink comforter beneath her as Simon continued his ministrations. He watched her reactions closely, trying to see what she liked best. When she made a particularly appetizing noise, he repeated the action until her thighs trembled. He cycled through the favored motions, wanting to make sure she enjoyed every second.

Bambi panted softly, gripping the comforter tightly, her body growing tense as the familiar signs of an orgasm built within her. "Cum whenever you're ready, baby. There's no rush." Simon mumbles against her pussy, alternating between lavishing attention on her clit and fucking his tongue into her. Bambi gasps sharply and keens as she reaches her peak, her body trembling and spasming. She tilts her head to the side, trying to muffle her cries of ecstasy with the comforter. Simon smirked against her sex at her attempt to stay quiet.

He continued to lap at her clit until she jerked with each stroke of his tongue on her overly sensitive bud. Once satisfied that she was spent, he pulled away and licked his lips clean. "Good girl," Simon praises as his eyes drift over her limp form appreciatively. "Still not quite ready for me, though." he smiles and stands up to sit on the edge of the bed beside where Bambi's legs dangled off the edge.

"You're gonna do more?" Bambi asks, still slightly breathless.

"Baby, we can keep the foreplay going all night long if you want, I don't mind." he smiles, his fingers tracing over her mound. "I wanna make sure you're ready for me. But, if you don't want to have sex tonight we can just stick to this stuff." Simon says and Bambi shakes her head quickly.

"No, I want to," she says eagerly and Simon chuckles from her eagerness.

"Don't worry baby, we will if you want to." he smiles as he slides his fingers down to slip one of his thick fingers inside her, "Gotta get this pretty pussy nice and prepped first," he says with a breathy moan as he begins to slowly pump his finger in and out. Bambi lets out a slight moan, her thighs beginning to fidget, but Simon's free hand holds one open for his ministrations. "So fucking tight," he grits out as he continues to thrust his finger in and out of her sopping cunt. He relished the wet squelch from his finger moving inside her.

Bambi's eyes flutter shut as she moans sweetly, clearly enjoying herself. Seeing that she's relaxed, Simon adds a second finger. Bambi gasps and her back arches momentarily before she melts back against the bed. "Good girl, just relax and enjoy it," Simon encourages, picking up the speed of his fingers slightly. Bambi's lips part with a shaky moan as he picks up the pace. Simon smirks and crooks his fingers to find her sweet spot, he knows he found it when she arches off the bed and a high-pitched moan slips past her plump lips. Simon focuses on hitting that spot with each thrust of his fingers.

Bambi begins to squirm on the bed, her hips involuntarily rocking against his hand. "That's it, take what you need," Simon practically moans as she rolls her hips to meet his movements. He clenched his jaw, trying to stifle his own desire as he focused on making Bambi cum. But, there was a visible patch of precum on the crotch of his pants. He ignored it, focusing on the little angel he was pleasuring.

Simon smiles to himself triumphantly as her pussy begins to squeeze around his fingers and she white knuckles the comforter. Simon adjusts his hand so he could circle her clit without pausing his ministrations. Bambi gasps, her face scrunching up in pleasure. She tilts her head again, trying to hide her moans with the comforter. Simon's free hand moves to tilt her head straight again, "None of that little one, let me hear you." he says gently but firmly, and she complies.

Simon watches her face intently, drinking in every micro-expression as she cums. She lets out a desperate wail, her body convulsing and thighs squeezing around his hand as she cums. Simon's free hand quickly moves to grip one of her thighs, forcing her legs apart again. He slows the pace of his fingers, prolonging her orgasm. Once her inner muscles begin to relax and her breathing slows he withdraws his fingers, bringing them up to his lips to suck them clean.

"How are you feeling baby? Still good?" he asks and Bambi nods mindlessly, her eyes shut in bliss. Simon chuckles, amused by her blissed-out expression. He rubs her thighs soothingly as she comes back to herself. When she finally opens her eyes again Simon smiles down at her, "Do you want more? Or was that enough for tonight?"

"I want more," Bambi says quickly and Simon laughs at her speedy response.

"Okay, sweetheart," he chuckles and reaches down to work on his belt buckle. He pulls off his belt, tossing it on the floor before moving to unbutton his pants. Bambi watches his every movement, her body buzzing in anticipation. She had been dying to see what he was hiding beneath those cargo pants.

Simon unzips his pants and pulls them down, then his briefs. Bambi's eyes widen slightly as his large cock springs free and bobs against his stomach. The tip was red and angry, dripping precum. After Simon tosses his pants on his forming pile of clothing he looks over at Bambi, he chuckles at the look on her face. "Feeling a bit giddy are we?" Bambi's eyes flicker up to his face and she looks away shyly, feeling caught. "Don't be shy baby," he smiles gently, grasping her chin to turn her face back to his, "You can look at it as much as you want. It's all yours for the night, and as many nights as you want after."

Bambi timidly peeks down again before looking back up at Simon. Simon smiles to himself but doesn't comment on her quick glance as he moves to stand between her spread legs. He grabs her thighs in his large hands, guiding them to wrap around his torso as he stands before her. Bambi complies, locking her ankles together behind his back. Simon gives his cock a few slow strokes, spreading the precum over his shaft.

"Still want to do this baby?" Simon checks and Bambi nods, "What did I say?" Simon asks, his voice growing firm.

"To use my words," she says timidly. Simon raises an eyebrow, "I still want to." she says and he nods in approval.

"Good girl," he says and drags the head of his cock through her slick folds, coating himself in her juices. Bambi shivers each time his cock slides over her clit. His free hand rests on her belly as he positions himself at her entrance. He inches the head of his cock in first and Bambi tenses, panting softly. Simon moans lowly from the tightness of her pussy. He starts with shallow thrusts, stretching her open. Bambi responds eagerly to his movements, her eyes fluttering shut and lips parting. Taking it as a good sign, Simon pushes deeper until half of his cock is inside her, repeating the slow thrusts to ease her open for him.

Bambi's hands grip the comforter for the nth time tonight. She bites her bottom lip, stifling her moans.

"What did I say, baby?" Simon asks, halting his movements. Bambi's eyes fly open, "Don't be quiet, I want to hear you." he says firmly and she nods in response. Seemingly satisfied with her response, Simon resumes the slow roll of his hips until he bottoms out inside her. He groans in satisfaction as his balls press against her ass, "Fucking hell," he moans, remaining still for a moment to savor the sensation of her warm walls gripping him. Lost in his own euphoria, Simon snaps out of his cloudy haze as Bambi begins to squirm. "S'okay baby, I'll give you what you need," he says as he begins to thrust slow and deep, pulling out until only the tip remains before pushing back in.

Simon's eyes roll into his head as he begins to thrust again, letting out a gravelly moan. "Such a perfect little cunt," he breathes, "Gonna get addicted to you sweetheart," he pants as he picks up speed slightly. Bambi responds beautifully, her mouth dropping open as she lets out sounds of delight with each snap of his hips, "That's it, make all the noise you want," Simon encourages breathlessly, his hips smacking against the underside of her thighs with each thrust.

Bambi’s tits jiggled enticingly with each thrust, only adding to Simon's arousal. Simon lays over her, his arms braced on either side of his head as he ruts into her. Simon let out a shaky moan, tucking his face into the crook of her neck. She lifted her hands to rest them on the back of his neck, spreading her thighs wider to give him easier access.

“Good girl,” he grunts out as she spreads her legs wider. He leans back again slightly to get better momentum as he fucks her. Bambi’s eyes drank in the sight of him. His mouth was dropped open, his forehead beaded with sweat as he grunted and moaned with each movement he made. She couldn’t tell who was enjoying this more, him or her. His abs rippled with each snap of his hips, and Bambi couldn’t resist the urge to trace her fingers over the muscles.

Simon let out a low loan as her fingers danced over his hard abdomen and he increased his pace, fucking her with renewed vigor. “That’s it, touch Daddy wherever you want.” He grunts out. Bambi whimpers from the dominant title, surprised by how much she enjoyed it. Simon smirked, “Yeah? You like that?” He asks and she nods mindlessly. Simon chuckled and smacks her hip lightly, “Be a good girl and cum for Daddy. Make me proud.” Simon lets out something that resembles a whimper as Bambi’s pussy began to tighten around him. “Fuck,” he gasps, “Sweetheart, you gotta cum now before I blow my load inside you.” He warns, a slight tremble in his voice.

As if on cue, Bambi’s cunt clamps around his cock and she convulses wildly on the bed. “Oh shit,” Simon moans, his eyes rolling back at her already tight cunt becoming impossibly tighter, “T-That’s it, good girl,” he praises, his voice trembling as he fucks her through her orgasm. Bambi mewled and whined, her hands clawing at his arms as she rode out the waves of pleasure crashing through her. “Oh, fuck,” Simon gasps, “Gonna cum,” he pants, quickly pulling out of her messy cunt and stroking his cock rapidly. He lets out a low groan as he cums, thick ropes of his seed coating her stomach. Simon shudders and moans, bracing himself on one arm as he falls forward so he doesn't collapse on her as he rides out his high.

Simon pants, letting go of his cock as his orgasm subsides, “Holy fucking shit sweetheart,” he says, his chest heaving. Simon sighs shakily and tilts his head down to give Bambi a slow, almost thankful kiss, “That was damn good.” he sighs contently. “How about you? You still feelin’ good?” he asks breathily.

Bambi nods, “Yeah, really good.” she says, equally winded.

Simon gives Bambi another lingering kiss, “Let's get you cleaned up sweet girl.”

if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x oc #simon ghost riley x original character #bodyguard simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #call of duty #bambisworlds #simon ghost riley x bambi

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normanssurvivalsite · 1 year ago

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The Prince

(Alastor x prince of hell!reader)

"HOLLLLYYY FUCKING SHIT (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER WE ARE VISITING CHARLIEEEE" yelled your dad while bursting into your room.

You looked up at your dad startled.

"Thats great, but why are you yelling?" You asked while raising your eyebrow.

"BECAUSE WE ARE GOING NOW COME OOONNN" he continued yelling while taking your hand and dragging you out of your room and off you guys were to the Hazbin Hotel.

When you arrived your dad almost run in before you told him to tone it down he is still the king of hell who has to keep up a certain image.

This was your relationship in a nutshell. You were not at all like your father and older sister. You were calm and collected and were there to calm them down. And why you stuck with your dad? Because he was broken after your mother left and you kind of got stuck being his mental support.

You never blamed Charlie for leaving you had the chance you do that as well but you decided to stay.

Your dad entered the hotel and immediately hugged Charlie. You just calmly walked in after him.

"OOOHHHHHH YOU BROUGHT (Y/N)" yelled Charlie as well excitedly and gave you the same bone crushing hug your dad gave her earlier.

"Yeah...'m here...sis....cant...breathe" you tried to get a sentence out.

"OH yeah of course sorry"

"Its fine Im happy to see you Charlie" you smiled at her while dusting your button up shirt.

After this encounter Charlie introduced you to the rest of the residents including her girlfriend, who you were delighted to meat since Charlie always rented about her when you guys would talk.

But of course your dad managed to make that encounter awkward as well to which you just sighed a little.

Unbeknownst to you a certain radio demon had his eyes on you from the moment you entered. It was one thing that your attire was something he himself would wear and it suited your figure perfectly, quite old fashioned just like he liked it, but when he saw that seemingly you were the distinguished one in the family you have won his interest.

The way you held yourself with a straight back chin up, truly befitting a prince. He noticed that you seem to either calm down or hint to your father on how to act. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"And this here-" started Charlie nearing the stairs where Alastor appeared. "-oh, this is Alastor our beloved building manager"

"Its a pleasure to meet you sir quite the pleasure" said Alastor while shaking Lucifers hand and wiping it in his coat after.

Not paying a second more of his attention on your father he looked immediately to you.

"And this magnificent creature is the prince of hell himself I'm sure" he said while taking your hand and softly kissing your knuckles.

Your face got a bit read while he straightened back up eye contact never leaving.

"I am, it is a pleasure to meet you sir, I quite enjoy your radio podcast" you managed to get out after re-gaining your composure.

What you said was true, though. You enjoyed his brodcast, his voice, and interestingly enough your taste in music was similar, the jazz part at least.

Alastors eyes lit up at that.

"Indeed? Well I'm honored the prince of hell himself enjoys what I do, and please do call me Alastor." he smiled at you and took one of your hands in both of his while you guys just stared at each other.

"Should we do something ooor...?" Whispered angel to Husk.

However the cat was to stunned to speak. He has never seen Alastor act like this with anyone before. The radio demon was literally flirting with the prince of hell.

"WOOOOWWW ooookkkkk nononono lemme just...squeeze in here" said your father while standing between you and Alastor which was almost impossible thats how close you two stood to each other but he managed.

"If you don't mind I believe my daughter was about to show us the hotel so see ya later" said your dad hastily while pushing you away from the overlord.

"Oh, no, we built the hotel together we should show it together, right Charlie?" Grinned Alastor at the princesse

"...Ok"

"I wouldn't mind at all to show the lovely little prince around" he smiled at you and offered you his arm which you gladly took.

All this while Lucifer was glaring daggers at Alastors back as you two walked off chatting happily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOOOOOOWWWW LOOK AT ME POSTING AGAIN YEAAHHHHH WHAT CAN I SAY I HAVE A PROBLEM

And you bitches too I literally uploaded my Hazbin Hotel posts minutes ago and yall are eating it up already.

I mean ofc thank you sm for all the love (🥹🧡) but DAMN yall good? Anyone need a therapist?

Haha, just kidding...we all do.

ANYWAAAYSSS

I HAVE SOOO MANY MORE IDEAS AND I CANT WAIT TO WRITE THEM AND SHARE THEM WITH YOU GUYS.

I'm also thinking about writing a pt.2 for this so lemme know if yall would be interested😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

#male reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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interact-if · 12 days ago

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Black History Month Author Spotlight: Kiki

Our third edition of the Black History Month Author Spotlight series, features Kiki (@scapegoated-if)!

(I’m rly happy to have gotten to know Kiki better through the feature, and the interview contains really interesting insights on gender and race-locked main characters in interactive fiction, among other things! If you haven’t yet played Scapegoated (and if you’re a fan of Infamous/music IFs, definitely give it a go!)

Author: Kiki Born and raised North London, but ethnic background Jamaican (my parents are a part of the Windrush Gen)

Games: Scapegoated (slice-of-life, music, hollywood, '70s)

Short blurb: Scapegoated is about a female musician in a band that is seguing into an acting career. She is facing a lot of blame and scandal regarding the split between her band that happened in 1968. Not only are a lot of the general public hurt and angry about it, but so is an infamous serial killer that has been terrorising the west coast...

Quotes from the interview

I’m from North London. My parents moved to London when they were children from the Caribbean and are a part of the Windrush generation. I am a black, bisexual woman growing up in the UK, a place that tends to disguise its wider prejudices as a classist issue in all cases. […] A huge part of my love for music is strongly intertwined with my relationship with my late father. He passed away in June of 2023, and he was very much so kickin’ it in the ‘70s. He was a DJ throughout his life, so the legacy of LPs that he left behind was unspeakable and very ‘70s.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

I graduated from a Russell Group university with an English Literature BA (Hons). I think a part of me has always wanted to be a writer in some capacity; I know that I’ve always wanted to write a book. So, I think beginning this IF has existed for me as a gateway to see what that would be like. I thought of it as a brainteaser–the prospect of exploring different outcomes and different pathways that a character may undertake. It has been challenging, dare I say more challenging than writing an actual book, but that’s exactly what I wanted out of this process.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

My best friend introduced me to the world of interactive fiction one day last year. She introduced Infamous to me and asserted that I would really like it because I’m a huge music nerd. Of course I fell in love with the characters and the world, but I also fell in love with the format of IFs.

A huge part of my love for music is strongly intertwined with my relationship with my late father. He passed away in June of 2023, and he was very much so kickin’ it in the ‘70s. He was a DJ throughout his life, so the legacy of LPs that he left behind was unspeakable and very ‘70s. I am a huge music lover with such a wide-spanning eclectic taste, but the period of music post-”Dylan going electric”, post-”Elvis being on the out”, Quincy Jones (rest in king) and Beatlemania is just everything to me, so the idea for Scapegoated came into my life in a very natural way. I knew that whichever story I told, I wanted it to explore the Sunset Strip, groupies, rock ‘n roll, The Beatles, The Manson Family and Cher all at its core.

I am of the opinion that coverage of the ‘70s music scene has been run into the ground lately. There has been a resurgence of nostalgia within the public consciousness when reflecting upon this time due to Daisy Jones & The Six, which was one of my favourite shows the year it was released. So, including Hollywood and murder was my attempt at innovation.

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

I’m from North London. My parents moved to London when they were children from the Caribbean and are a part of the Windrush generation. I am a black, bisexual woman growing up in the UK, a place that tends to disguise its wider prejudices as a classist issue in all cases. I am writing Scapegoated as someone that has only been to the US twice for two weeks at a time. I am writing Scapegoated as someone that can only relate to two aspects of my main character. I am writing Scapegoated as someone that has experienced discrimination and has been scarred by instances of discrimination. In university, I tended to be quite outspoken; in my first year, I felt quite ostracised by my predominantly white cohort during the BLM movement, because I seemed to be the only one willing to speak out in favour of it.

When I first wrote Scapegoated, I was inboxed on Tumblr and replied to on the Choice of Games Forum with genuine curiosity about my choice to gender and race lock my protagonist. This is an excerpt of my response:

I didn’t want to have a self-insert MC because I wanted to ensure that the conversations had revolving these social issues and the murders that unfold aren’t danced around. Perspective is an extremely important factor in that, and I want to ensure that the MC is directly involved–rather than just there as things happen because it wouldn’t be interactive. [...] Initially when I planned this story, before it was titled and the only thing I knew was that I wanted to write an IF about the '70s music scene, it was neither gender or race locked [...]. But I did toy with my ideas by self-inserting (I’m a black woman) when I was attempting to figure out the logistics of gameplay. That’s when I realised that due to the time period and all of the change that was happening at the time, social issues had to be discussed.

To this day, I am extremely proud of my decision and the conviction in my decision. I asserted a level of loyalty to the story I am telling in a way that I didn’t know I was capable of; retrospectively, I think I took a kind of power in it. But I really love the story I am telling and the range of representation.

I am trying to work the line of prioritising my vision, all the while giving weight and importance to my readers’ opinions in the way that these very interesting and thorough opinions deserve. It warms my heart that even one person might care about my characters just as much as I do.

what are some of the most rewarding or challenging aspects of writing Interactive Fiction for you?

Songwriting. I’m tragic at it, but I like to think I’m self-aware enough. There are different characters with different voices and different reasonings behind their songwriting styles. I struggle to ensure that their songwriting oozes with their individual personalities.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

Story beats. However, planning and writing can exist as two entirely different realms to me. What I think the story may be, can develop into something entirely new all on its own once I begin to write. Sometimes characters that I think I know transform into someone entirely new once I start to get to know them through writing their dialogue. I’ve experienced this with several characters already. On the contrary, some characters are so secure in my mind that they can’t be anything other than who I’ve introduced them to myself as.

I really love the writing process I’ve conjured up. It hasn’t failed me yet, but it isn’t secure–writing can never be anything other than an insecure process. Writing, for me, always remains in a constant stage of planning.

Do you have favourite interactive fiction games, characters, scenes or authors that you’d like to recommend?

I have received a lot of IF recommendations due to how new I am to IFs. I truly haven’t read very many, so all I can recommend to anybody are the 3 IFs that I have read which I each loved enormously: Infamous; College Tennis: Origin Story; and Apartment 502.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

I only got here in December, and so far everyone has been extremely welcoming and helpful. Honestly, I have no notes. All I can do is encourage everyone to give writing a chance. It’s been so fruitful and rewarding for me, so I strongly urge everyone to give it a shot if you’re considering it. Stop thinking, just do!

Any books, music, movies etc. you’re obsessed with at the moment, or which changed your life (or perspectives on something)?

I’m currently reading I’m With The Band by Pamela Des Barres as research for my IF, which has been a great insight into the mindset of groupies on an intimate level.

As for something that changed my life, I recently watched Sing Sing (2024)--which wasn’t something I did in relation to Scapegoated, I am just an avid film-watcher–and it was such an incredible de-stigmatising eye into the prison system. An extremely important watch for Black History Month, too!

This-or-that segment: (bold = Kiki's pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

City or countryside?

Angsty or Cozy romances? (Or enemies-to-lovers or best-friends-to-lovers?)

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Summer or Winter?

First drafts or editing?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

Characters or plot first?

Kiki’s custom “either-or” pairing: writing in silence or with music playing?

#interactive fiction #cscript game #interactive games #author features #black history month #interview feature #spotlight #poc game developers

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rozeliyawashereyall · 13 days ago

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Headcanons, headcanons and more headcanons but with drawings this time.

✵One common headcanon I always think of is that literally every character ever had fucked up trying to cut their hair by themselves, it's a fun pattern /lh

✵Fucking bet you Tethys used to bully Zef

✵ Timmy and Marco would love musicals actually

✵Explained it before- but in human form; I really feel like the merfolk in human form are still stronger and faster then the average human, Zef would be too but he's still getting used to the surface lmao ✵They most likely don't understand what hair dye is

"I'm dying my hair blonde tomorrow-"

"..you're killing your hair??"

✵Sera would either tolerate or HATEEEEE slasher movies omfg. Zef doesn't like the little mermaid movie solely because of that one mom dying scene.

✵I feel like Soheil wears reading glasses..it's just a vibe

✵do you think there's video games on the ship in the rebel series, cuz I feel like Naveed would DESTROY others at Mario kart He has daily competitions with Soheil, Torvin occasionally joins and destroys both of them at it

✵Nathan also seems like he rocks at video games, specifically the horror ones. Put him in Slenderman and he's getting out of there with all 7 papers within 20 minutes if not less

✵if Zef finds something shiny he'll immediately bring it to Sera, on some occasions he *purposefully* looks for shiny objects for him

✵He also has an ongoing mission to try and sneak up on Sera, but Sera always knows. Zef refuses to give up.

✵Guys you're really gonna need to hear me out on this one. Ray reads romance novels in his free time for fun. OH ESPECIALLY THE SAME WITH SKY- He wants to know what love feels like and what better way to learn than to read.

✵Ray had those little Beyblades back in middle school. Hell he probably STILL has them actually, just for the memories. Also it's a really cool trinket

✵Mercury has a subtle limp I feel ? From getting hurt all the time—well, not ALL the time, but enough times.

✵Zef has a VERY specific and picky music taste but the problem is you can barely figure it out because it changes like, every few days or so.

✵I feel like Konrad and Sky tend to dissociate a lot ? Just daydreaming and all

✵I'm going to need everyone to hear me out on both Zef and Sera liking photography. Clemmy shows them how to take photos on their phone and it’s all over—like HOW did you take 378 pictures in the span of an hour.

Then hits the realisation that humans live for like, a third of what merfolk live up to so Zef and Sera start hanging little photos of them and Clemmy they took in the cave where they'd meet up as a forever memory.

✵Not an HC and more of a theory- but hear me out, what are the chances Sky DOES turn back into a human somehow?? Smt smt the long line of dark magic that turned the elves into vampires clashes with the holy immunity and reverses him back....But also a negative and a positive make a negative—so instead of reversing him back it could either turn that ginger into god or kill him.

✵Zef thinks jumping out of the water to startle people is the funniest thing ever.

✵Zef, Nathan, Konrad, Sky, AND Ray stim. I rest my case.

✵If Timmy hears a new word, he has to repeat it at least three times.

✵actual crossover shit—Uno night would go CRAZY with all of them. For Ray's safety and sanity he doesn't join- "no I'm not playing Uno with a vampire, a zombie, an enhanced spy and a fucking mermaid. Get me OUT of here." And you know what I don't blame him—If someone said I have to play go fish with a werewolf I'd leave right then and there....Imagine playing go fish with merfolk though- I'd do it just for the jokes i fear.

✵Do not let any of these men anywhere near horror games actually, something is getting broken and it's probably the monitor.

✵ Timmy is the resident "baby" of this AU, and Ray is the extremely unwilling babysitter.

✵it's okay though he acquires Bodie as a father figure /hj

That's all yipppeee

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redtsundere-writes · 1 month ago

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Date 2. Listening To Music

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soldier!Reader

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Summary: You just want to help Ghost to stop harming himself… These aren't dates, okay?

Word Count: 2974 words.

TW: MNDI. Self-harm. Smut. Possessiveness and Jealousy.

Ghost hated that Price smoked so close to his bed. Although he was partly to blame for choosing the bunk closest to the window. Now and then he would catch the captain smoking with half his body out of the window to “avoid” stinking up the room, but it never worked. The smell reminded him of his father. His harsh laugh with the smoke escaping from his cruel lips. Ghost couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to get his anger out.

The hallways were dark, but Ghost already knew the way to the exit by heart. Walk out of the room until he reached the wall, then walk left along it and go down the second staircase that led directly to the reception and then the exit. His boots echoed against each metal step, he stopped halfway when he heard a second pair of boots. He turned around to find you following him, rubbing your eyes half asleep.

“Are you going to the gym?” You asked.

You were face to face, thanks to you being a few steps higher to compensate. Ghost looked away out of shame, he didn't want to admit what you already knew. His knuckles had already healed, and he was ready to destroy them again. You sighed as your suspicions were confirmed.

“Follow me,” you asked, passing by him to lead the way.

Since you had caught him red-handed, Ghost had no choice but to follow you. You followed the stairs until they reached the common room where the shared television was and some private offices to do work or make phone calls, although most soldiers used it for other things.

“I once told my father that I was depressed, and he just told me: 'You're not depressed, you just have a dirty room.' So I did. I left it spotless,” you told him as you led him to the storage room.

“Did it work?” Ghost asked curiously.

“No,” you answered honestly. “But at least I cried in a clean room.”

You opened the door with a mischievous little smirk. Ghost could already imagine what awaited him from that short story. On the other side was a messy world, filled with canned food, blankets, and cleaning products piled up on metal shelves. Sense and order had been thrown around, and now you had to find it.

“Tonight we’re going to clean and organize the entire storage room,” you explained.

“We?” Ghost arched an eyebrow under his balaclava.

“I have seen your locker, trust me, you’ll need help,” you told him, rolling up your sleeves to get started.

You both got to work. Ghost dusted the cans off and you stacked them. You separated the cleaning products by sections of use, while Ghost swept the cobwebs off the ceiling. You both folded the blankets so that they would be better accommodated on one of the upper shelves. The whole night passed by. You did not talk because there was not much to say. You had been working together for more than a year, so you were already comfortable with each other's silence.

You were labeling some cardboard boxes until you came across one that had “Lost and Found” written on it. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you opened it to discover what was inside. Old t-shirts, ridiculous keychains, an empty canteen, everything seemed relatively normal until you saw a relic.

“Hey, Ghost, check this out. I haven’t seen one of these in years!” You called out excitedly to show him a pill-shaped MP3 player with its respective headphones connected. “And it turns on!” Your eyes sparkled as the screen light up green.

You sat on the floor, your back against the shelf, to find out what kind of music it had. The owner of the MP3 really liked 80s rock. AC/DC, Journey, Tears for Fears are some bands he had in his small library. Ghost joined you curiously, stealing an earphone to share.

“This person has good taste,” you commented.

“Not bad,” Ghost shrugged. “Could have more metal in it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You asked sarcastically.

It was to be expected. Ghost was in her forties, so he was born in the early 70s. He was at least 6 years old when the heavy metal craze started in the UK, he practically grew up with the genre. Simon probably had posters of his favorite bands in his room and his mom would yell at him to turn down the music when he was listening to the stereo.

“Oh, this is a great song,” you said excitedly as you heard the beginning of Don’t You by Simple Minds.

You let the song play while humming the song and moving your shoulders to the beat. Ghost looked at you out of the corner of his eye as he enjoyed the song in his own way, in complete silence. Unlike him, you weren’t afraid to express your likes or opinions. If you wanted to do something, you just did it without having a nagging little voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea. Sometimes you envy being able to be free even though neither of you were locked up.

The song ended, and you continued to look through the repertoire. You were surprised to see the ballad When a Man Loves a Woman by Michael Bolton was in it, as it didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the songs. You were about to skip it when Ghost's voice stopped you.

“Leave it. I want to listen to it”.

“I never thought you'd like ballads,” you commented surprised.

“I don't like them,” he replied.

“If you don't like it, why do you want to listen…?”. Your eyes shot open in realization. “It reminds you of someone!”. You exclaimed in eureka.

“Well…”. Ghost scratched the back of his neck. It was lucky his balaclava covered his flushed face.

“A partner?”. You asked curiously.

Unlike Soap, who talks as if he was on a forever podcast, Ghost never did, much less about himself. Approved topics of conversation were discussions of hypothetical cases, the weather, or missions. That Ghost was about to reveal a memory like that was unlocking a piece of the mysterious puzzle to discover who is Simon Riley.

“No,” Ghost replied. “It’s the song I lost my virginity to.”

If the shelf hadn’t been there, you would have fallen flat on your back. You gaped at him as he looked at you weirdly as if you hadn’t just confessed that he lost his virginity to one of the most romantic ballads of 1991.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“Who would have thought? You’re such a romantic!” You scoffed.

“Not at all.” He snorted, looking away in embarrassment. “We were in the car…”

“You lost your virginity in a car?!” You exclaimed, to which Ghost quickly covered your mouth.

“Shut up, you’re going to wake everyone on the base with your screams,” Ghost whispered to you angrily. For a second you had forgotten that it was 4 in the morning.

“It must be a great story,” you whispered, still excited.

“You really want to know?” You nodded excitedly. “Fine, but you better not tell anyone,” he threatened you.

“My lips are sealed,” you closed your mouth with an imaginary zipper.

Ghost sighed, he couldn’t believe he was about to tell you one of his most precious memories. Even though that annoying little voice in his mind begged him not to, he wanted to do it. He trusted you.

“Prom was coming up. There was a girl, Melanie, but back then she was ‘Fat Melanie.’ She was bullied every day at school.”

In high school, Simon was a lone wolf who was always on the lookout for his surroundings. He knew everything. He knew who the popular ones were, the bullies, and the victims of the popularity pyramid. The only reason Simon wasn’t among the victims was because he was 6’1” tall at 18 years old. Add to that the fact that he always had an “I’m going to kill you” face on, even if he was just thinking about what he was going to eat that afternoon. Most of his classmates were so scared of him that they thought he was going to shoot up the school at some point. Luckily, this is the UK and not the US, Simon didn’t have a gun… yet.

Melanie was one of the most frequent victims he bumped into because her locker was in the same hallway as his. She was the one bullies picked on the most for having good grades and being fat, since this was the 90s and anti-bullying campaigns didn’t exist back then.

One day, a scream of excitement broke out in the hallway. Simon poked his head out of his locker to see the source of the loud sound. It was Melanie who had just received an anonymous love letter. Then he heard one of the bullies holding back his laughter, hiding behind a pillar like the fox from Dora the Explorer. Simon didn't need any more evidence to know that it was a practical joke.

Apparently, the love letter turned out to be a hateful essay on how the poor girl must kill herself to have loving parents who gave her double helpings of dessert after dinner. Melanie ended up in a sea of her own tears while the bully mocked her in her face. Simon closed his locker to take a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed it on his lips and lit it in an attempt to remove himself from the situation. He was going to continue on his way, ignoring everything as always. It wasn't the first time he saw Melanie cry, he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

The other students watched the scene with some emotion at the absurd spectacle. A group of friends whispered that they felt sorry for her, which Simon thought was hypocritical. “Damn cowards…” That thought made him stop dead in his tracks. He was not a coward.

“Who would take an elephant like you to prom?” The bully mocked, cornering poor Melanie against her own locker.

The smile faded when Simon grabbed him by his leather jacket and slammed him hard against the lockers to get him out of his way. Melanie stopped crying confused at not understanding why a stranger was helping her, better yet, why a cute boy was helping her. Simon, despite his unfriendly face, was attractive in his own way. Unruly dirty blonde hair, chocolate eyes, sharp features and lips that she wanted to kiss because he was her hero. Simon took the cigarette out of his lips and blew the smoke out carelessly.

“Wanna go to prom with me, yes or no?” Simon asked her directly.

“Wait, wait… Is that how you asked her?” You asked, offended for Melanie, interrupting the story.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Ghost, I’ve seen you interrogate terrorists with more tact than that,” you explained.

“I was never good at that kind of thing, but whatever. She said yes.” He shrugged.

“Obviously she was going to accept. You were her consolation prize, even though she knew you were asking her out of pity.”

“I mean, she was pretty. Blonde, green eyes, a nice smile, she was just…”

“Fat?” You raised an offended eyebrow.

“Short. She barely reached my chest,” Ghost corrected.

“Oh.”

Simon didn’t plan on going to the prom, as he didn’t have money for it. So in less than a week he got the tickets by doing some odd jobs around the neighborhood, bought a black suit at a thrift store, borrowed a neighbor’s car in exchange for some handyman work, and stole some pink roses from a hotel garden.

After the neighbor gave him some advice on how to behave like a gentleman, Simon went to pick up Melanie at her house. Luckily, the roses matched her dress that looked like a cotton candy cloud. Her mother was impressed with the boy who asked her sweet daughter to prom. She forced them to pose for a picture while her father glared him.

Simon thought he would hate prom, but he had a good time. They took their yearbook photo, the band was good, and no one bothered them all night. Melanie was forcing him to dance, even to the slow songs as if they were dating. Since he had invited her, he had no choice but to please her. After all, it was only for one night.

It turns out that some idiot poured whiskey into the fruit punch without anyone noticing, so Simon and Melanie were waiting in the parking lot for the alcohol to go down so they could go back to their houses safely. The radio was on the love station (Melanie's choice). Ghost doesn't remember how it happened exactly, but one moment they were chatting and a second later, she already had her hand on his crotch.

Luckily, his kind neighbor had put condoms in the glove compartment in case this exact situation happened. Simon helped her into the backseat, so the magic could begin. They kissed like idiots because neither of them had ever done it before. They undressed as best they could in the square meter they were in. It was obvious what was going on because the car shook like a bouncy house, the windows were fogged up, and When a Man Loves a Woman was playing at full volume.

Simon drove Melanie home with her hair a mess, her elaborate dress placed wrong, and her lipstick ruined. Melanie kissed him on the cheek goodbye as soon as he opened the car door for her. She was about to get in her house when she shouted:

“This was the best night of my life!”

“I don’t know why that affected me so much. I stood there like an idiot watching her get in when I really wanted to tell her that it was also the best night of my life,” Ghost told you as soon as the song ended.

“Please tell me that you later became a couple, got married, had three children, and adopted a dog,” you begged him in the face of the adorable story.

“After graduation, I never saw her again.” You groaned at such a disappointing ending. “The last thing I heard from her is that she moved to London to study at university.”

“You never looked for her?” You asked, hopeful of a possible sequel.

“No. After high school I went to work at a butcher shop, and then I joined the army, so I lost contact with a lot of people.”

“How sad,” you murmured.

“Why is it sad?”

“Because it was obvious that you liked each other, and could have been a nice couple.”

“Sometimes there are people who are only destined to be a nice memory.” Ghost sighed.

“You're right.” You pressed your back against the shelf, careful that the earphone didn't come out of your ear. “Although I can't imagine you dancing to a slow song, I can't even imagine myself doing it.”

“Have you never danced to a slow song?” Ghost asked you, surprised. You shook your head. “It's not that hard” He said before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You arched your eyebrow confused.

“I'll teach you” Ghost took your hands to help you up.

“Are you serious?” You asked, unable to believe it.

Ghost took the MP3 from you to play When a Man Loves a Woman again. He placed the earphone in your ear again so that both of you could listen to the song. One of his calloused hands pulled you by the waist to hold you close to his body, while the other wrapped around your hand. He ordered you to put your free hand on his shoulder and, like a good subordinate, you did.

“Now what?”.

“Just follow me,” Ghost whispered to you.

“Yes, sir,” you responded in the same way.

Ghost moved his feet from side to side, in a back and forth motion that went from his feet to his shoulders. You just followed his steps with a certain stiffness since this was your first time dancing so close to someone. He was right, it wasn't that hard when he was in control. The seductive sound of the guitar and the relaxed rhythm of the drums made you melt into your partner's body. You rested your head on his chest. One ear listened to the music and the other, the addictive rhythm of his heart inside his strong chest.

Ghost smiled at the warmth of your body. He placed his chin on your head as you slowly turned around the small place you shared in the world. He closed his eyes for a second to pretend you were in an elegant living room with a giant chandelier lighting your steps when in reality you were in a storage with a bare wire spotlight. Nothing mattered beyond the fact that Ghost enjoyed having someone to protect in his arms.

The MP3 player died in the middle of the ballad. With no music playing in the background anymore, you pulled away from each other. His hand longed for your touch as soon as you moved your hand away. You stretched your arms with a yawn, you were already sleepy after snuggling into his chest.

“I think I’ll go to sleep now,” you whispered.

“I’ll finish here,” Ghost offered.

You said goodnight to each other and left the storage to return to your bunk bed. Ghost took out his earphone, wrapped the cord around the MP3 and put it in his pocket. It had been a good night. He didn't hurt himself, he danced with a cute girl and found his old MP3 player.

Masterlist.

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Thanks for reading! <3

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty ghost #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanart #call of duty #cod

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supernova41st · 2 months ago

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Always Forever ✩‧₊˚

Tf2 x Teen!Reader

A/n: Ty to all the people that voted for that poll I did last week! This is sorta ‘recycled’ from this post I made just for Scout, I rewrote most of the stuff for his section. Was going to put ‘Skinny’ by Billie Eilish as the song here but I felt it was too angsty, that has nothing to do with anything I just wanted to share that.

Warnings: ‘Troubled’ Teen, Mentions of period, slight angst,

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

Spy

✭ Since spy is.. spy he knows nearly everything about your background, surprisingly he feels pity for you. He knew that the other mercs didn’t exactly have the best home life but here you were, barely finishing highschool and becoming a mercenary

✭ Although he does feel sorry he still seems like the same bitter spy he is to everyone else, maybe not as much but overall the team can’t sense any different emotions towards you.

✭ Missions with him are fairly awkward, you expected him to say some petty bullshit straight from the start but he mostly just seemed observant of you.

“You just gonna glare at me for the rest of this thing?”

“If it bothers you so much why don’t you crawl back to your mother”

“I can’t go back, you know how my life use to be”

✭ Oof, that kinda got to him.

✭ Like with Scout, he rarely ever calls you by your name/title. He mostly just calls you ‘girl’

✭ He tries to get use to your teenage perks, it’s been a while since he’s been a father so it took a while.

✭ once your teenage girl instinct kicked in once you realized he was snooping around your bunk room, you weren’t happy

“Who was in my room?”

“Cough what?”

“I went in my closet and my shoes were out of order because I put them from my least to most favorite and my converse were next to my combat boo-WHO THE FUCK WAS IN MY ROOM??”

✭ It’s ok, he won’t be snooping around there for a while for his sake <33

Heavy

✭ Every time he looks at you he looks like he’s about to cry. Can you blame him? You remind him of his sisters so much!!

✭ Especially after learning about your rough past.. god he wishes he can just have you move in the cabin with his sisters. It’d be so much better than what you’ve been through.

✭ Since he’s been around girls his entire life he warmed up to you real fast. Will gladly watch your back out in the battle field

“Jesus heavy!! I could’ve taken that shot Yknow? You look like Swiss cheese..”

“It’s alright, little one. Not as frail as you.”

✭ if you forget to ask for pads when goods get shipped to the base don’t worry, he always orders some in case you forget

“(Y/N), Miss Pauling told me that you forgot about Red riding hood visiting.”

“Gasp Oh god.. Thanks so much, Heavy.”

“No problem”

✭ Easily he’s the one you like the most. Not only is he chill but he’s always there for you 🫧

Sniper

✭ Divorced dad core

✭ Honestly he doesn’t really mind how young you are, as long as you can do your job he’s pretty okay with you

✭ Although (as said before) he does give divorced dad vibes. Helping mow the lawn, let’s you have a sip of his beer, spending weekends in his camper van, etc.

✭ He enjoys going on camping trips with you and teaches you how to use his rifle. Once you got injured near your eye because of the harsh recoil, he felt real sorry

“You good mate? Those frozen peas doin’ any good for ya??”

“Sniper I’m fine!! It’s just a bruise”

“Yeah, a big one! Lil’ bugger is already turnin’ yellow.. don’t tell Heavy I did this to ya”

✭ He always has to swat your feet off the dashboard of his car as if it’s not already dirty

✭ will NOT let you play music in there, he says it’s “too sappy for his taste”

✭ (Extra)

✭ Soldier doesn’t like you going out, divorced mom core.

“AH! LOOK WHOS FINALLY HOME FROM SNIPERS, ONLY 2 SECONDS LATE.”

“What?”

Scout

✭ Don’t get him started.

✭ This boy will defend you with his LIFE. (not on the battlefield)

✭ Anyone giving you a hard time? Scouts here!!

“Hey, (Y/N), perhaps before jumping straight into the enemy team you might want to wait for yours to come over??”

“Wow another mission where you blame everyone but your big ass 😐”

“That’s a little out of pocket but I mean.. thanks?”

✭ Miss Pauling and him are your parents now btw. They take you EVERYWHERE with them

“Guys I really don’t have to go, plus I don’t have any extra money to pay for myself anyways”

“We’ll just pay it for ya toots!! You can order all the food you want”

“Yeahh, under 30$ tho.”

✭ Despite how much fun he has with you, he does have a deep connection with you as well. He knows how it feels to be seen as ‘useless’, so he tries his best to make sure you have the best time you can at a place like this.

“You alright, kid? It was gettin’ pretty ugly out there, especially with all that blood splatting all over ya”

“I’m good, I just hope I don’t get any infection since I got some blood on my eye..”

“Ew.. I mean-cool!! That’s pretty sick if you ask me”

✭ Does not ask you about your past, let alone bring it up. Scout may be stupid, but he’s smart enough to know that he’ll probably say something ignorant if the life you gave up ever gets brought up.

#NovaWrites*#Spotify #scout x reader #tf2 x reader #spy x reader #heavy x reader #sniper x reader #x reader #platonic x reader #tf2

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lacroixwh0r3 · 1 year ago

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The First Taste (p.2)

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's the second day at the lake and you meet some people that live in the neighborhood.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON (sorta? Just gonna leave it to be safe), heavy sexual tension, pet names, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), voyeurism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, Bill, Frank, and Tess appearance, use of Y/N (1x), jealousy, degradation, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): Skin by Mac Miller

PART 1 PART3

A/N: I am sooo sorry for taking so long with this one, life has been crazy and weird, but I already have plans for the next part hehe. Also, this is probably all over the place...I wrote some parts of this high lol

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy my pookies!<3

Trying to act normal around Joel was a bit of a struggle for you.

It was the second day of the trip and he was completely normal during breakfast—he laughed and joked with everyone, seeming a little more lively than the day before. It didn't seem like he had seen or heard anything last night. And if he did, he was being very closed—lipped about the whole thing, which you were grateful about that because you'd probably die from embarrassment.

Sarah had done the honors of waking up early and making breakfast this morning, which consisted of pancakes and eggs. It was something simple and everyone enjoyed it, meanwhile, you could hardly touch your plate. Not because the food wasn't good, but because you were too occupied with staring at Sarah's dad, the man you had fantasized about the night before. It seemed that no one was even paying attention so you assumed that no one would notice your lingering eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria had quickly caught onto your crush on the older Miller brother, yet she never said anything. Not even to Tommy, her husband. She sat there quietly as she watched you watching him. She really thought nothing of it other than a simple crush and from what she could tell from Joel's stoic attitude, the feelings were not mutual. However, Maria didn't know that Joel was beginning to grow a desire for you—he could hide it better than you.

You were glad that Sarah has been too busy typing away on her phone to even pay attention.

“Y’all had fun last night?” Joel asked as he peered over at the three that went out last night, but mainly looking over at Maria.

Joel was interested in their night, but he also knew how Tommy was after a few drinks. After Tommy and Maria had gotten married, it was obvious that he matured, but he still had his moments.

“It was lots of fun—there was good live music and good drinks there,” Maria said to him as the other two just nodded their heads in agreement.

"We actually ran into Bill and Frank while we were there, they were with a friend...what was her name again?" Tommy asked as he tried to recall the unknown woman's name.

Joel didn't know much about Bill and Frank outside of the fact that they were married and lived next door. During the very brief encounter with the two yesterday, he could tell that Frank was the outgoing one out of the two and Bill was more reserved and not too keen on strangers—Joel didn't blame him, he was the same way too.

"Her name was Tess." Your father reminded Tommy as he took a quick sip of his coffee.

"Right, it was Tess!" Tommy said before speaking up again, "I think you'd like her, Joel...she's your type." he said slowly to his older brother.

This instantly piqued everyone's interest—Sarah's head had snapped up from her phone, while your eyebrows raised with surprise. Joel didn't need any convincing because he instantly shook his head after Tommy said that, letting him know that he wasn't interested.

"Oh come on, Dad!"

"You can't be serious."

"Joel!"

With these responses from Sarah, your dad, and Tommy at the same, Joel scowled at them. Meanwhile, you just sat there silently as you picked at the food on your plate with your fork. For some reason, you were happy that Joel had turned down Tommy's suggestion.

"Tommy is right, Joel, I think you and her would get along well and she's beautiful," Maria shrugged at Joel. "You should meet her and get to know her first."

He hadn't dated in a very long time and hadn't been interested in dating either. He decided that he would agree to get everyone off his back

"Fine, I'll meet her," Joel said as he put his head down and looked up at you. From the corner of Joel's eyes, he can see his daughter and Tommy high-five each other from across the table, while you looked at him with an unreadable expression.

You didn't think that he would agree that easily, but it didn't matter. You couldn't get jealous over someone who isn't yours.

"Great! Tommy and I will go over there to invite them over for this evening and we'll be sure to tell them to invite Tess," Maria winks at Joel.

Before Joel could respond, he was interrupted by Sarah's phone. it began to blow up with messages by the second. Sorry—she said as tried to silence it until eventually, the person called her, making her answer the phone before telling the person on the other line to hold on. Joel was about to scold her until she cut him off, "I gotta take this, I'll be right back. Girl problems!" she tells him with a sheepish expression as she hopped off her chair and started to loudly to talk to the person on the phone as she walked up the stairs to her room.

You all heard her yell into the phone to her friend about some boy before her words became intelligible. You stifled your laugh as you watched the look of defeat washed over Joel's face and he shook his head.

"That girl," Joel whispered, making everyone at the table laugh a bit. When he heard you laugh, he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, and you did the same.

The split moment between the two of you was briskly intervened by your dad.

"What did you two get into last night?"

You were about to make up some bullshit lie about what you had done last night before you stopped yourself and began to internally freak out because you remembered that Joel caught you smoking weed yesterday and he could easily tell your dad right now if he wanted to. You looked over at Joel with silent pleading eyes not to tell your dad what he saw, but he just looked at you with a blank stare as he proceeded to answer your dad's question.

"Nothing really, I think this one found out there's a balcony connected to her room, you should ask her about it," Joel said before finishing the rest of his food on his plate as he looked over at you. You felt everyone turn their attention to you, making you feel like your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest after Joel said that.

"Oh yeah? How was it, honey?" Your dad asked.

You felt like you had the words guilty written across your forehead, lying was not your strongest suit. You looked around the table and gulped down your spit, noting how amused Joel looked as he watched you become a nervous wreck.

You realized how insane you must've looked at that moment and cleared your throat before speaking up, "it was cool," you said in a composed manner.

"It was just 'cool'?" Your dad asked you, confused by your short response.

There you go again, embarrassing yourself in front of Joel.

"I mean the view was really nice from there, I liked it a lot," you shrugged. Your dad let out a hum, letting you know he was a little more satisfied with your response, making you relax. You looked over at Joel to see him looking at you with a discreet smug look on his face.

...

You had eventually finished their breakfast, to which Joel offered to wash everyone's dishes. Your dad got up from the table with a groan as he grumbled about going to the couch to rest for a bit, while Tommy and Maria headed over to Bill and Frank's house.

You decide to help Joel bring the dishes over to the sink.

"I can help you with that," You tell Joel as placed the mugs down and stood next to him by the sink, grabbing the drying towel that sat on the counter before looking up at him

"I got this, darlin'. You go sit and relax yourself," he said reassured you, yet you made no attempt to move. You shamelessly checked out Joel, watching as he focused on the dish, not even sparing you a glance. He could feel your gaze on him, but he said nothing to you. You peaked down and saw as he gripped the plate with his strong hand as the other rubbed the soap around the plate, the suds were dripping down his wet hand.

You pushed whatever thoughts that were about to appear in your head and looked back up at Joel. "It's fine, Joel. You wash, I'll dry," You tell him. He stops scrubbing before looking back at you, letting out a sigh, and going back to what he was doing.

You said nothing to him as you dried the dishes and Joel said nothing to you as well. There was this weird, awkward tension that lingered between you two. You got a feeling that Joel wanted to say something, he was just waiting on the right time to say it. You decided to break the silence first.

"Thanks for-um-for not saying anything to my dad, by the way,"

"That was nothing, sweetheart. Didn't wanna get you in trouble," was all he said. You weren't sure what to say after that so it went back to being silent.

Joel rinsed off the plate then passed it to you before clearing his throat and speaking up. "So, uh, how'd you sleep last night?" He asked you lowly and passed the plate to you. As you open your mouth to respond and go to reach for the plate, your body stills and your words get stuck in your throat. You had registered what he had said to you.

He was so casual with his words; to anyone else in this house, it didn't seem like anything, it was just Joel asking about you. However, you both knew there was a deeper meaning.

Joel new favorite thing was making you flustered-saying things to you that would catch you off guard and just leaving you hanging. He absolutely loved it.

"Oh come one, sweetheart, I asked you a question. It would be rude not to answer me," he said teasingly as he pushed the plate toward you some more so that you could take it.

You slowly reach for it as you watched him from the corner of your eyes, afraid to even turn your head to him. "I-I slept pretty well. Wha-what about you?" You asked him. You were nervous as hell and you could feel your hands shaking, so you decided to start drying the wet plate in your hand to cover it up.

"Me too, sweetheart," he said to you. You thought that was going to be the end of that conversation, but no, he kept going. "You know what though?" He asked you before turning to face you, got close, and bent his head down slightly to catch your eyes, but never did because your eyes were laser-focused on the now dry plate in your hand. You could feel his warm body close to yours.

"I was sitting on that balcony last night and heard some strange noises comin' from your room, had t'make sure you were alright before I went to bed." He said as he began to speak you again, "but I'm sure you were too busy to notice, right, darlin'?"

Kill me, you thought to yourself, just fucking kill me.

He was right, you were too busy too notice, but you refused to admit that to Joel. Just as you were about to lie to him again, you think back to the night before when he had called you out on lying to him about smoking.

You sat the plate down with the other plates and looked up at Joel, "I don't know what you're talking about," you say innocently as you turn your head to look at him and gave a tight, faux smile, which he returned as well.

This motherfucker.

"Mmm, I'm sure you don't, sweetheart." He says before the phony smile dropped from his face as he got closer to you. Your eyes flicker over to where your dad was sitting, making sure that he didn't see what was going on, before going back to Joel's dark ones.

"But I know what I saw when I looked in that room. I saw the way you fingering that wet cunt, moaning my name," he whispered to you menacingly. You suddenly feel his damp finger gliding across the back of your arm, causing goosebumps to spread around your body. You tried to move put some distance between the two of you, but he followed. "Cummin' all over those fingers while you thought of me."

There is no way your dad's friend is admitting that he watched you finger fuck yourself, while you moaned his name at that. It didn't feel real to you.

You had yet to say anything back to Joel, so he kept going. "Made me cum so hard in my hand. I couldn't help myself, you looked so perfect touching yourself." Instantly, you gasped loudly before looking over at your dad again, and luckily he wasn't paying a lick of attention. The sound of the running water must've covered it up.

Joel's confession should've disgusted you, but it didn't—in fact, it turned you on a lot. Some sick part of you liked that he jerked off while watching you.

Finally, you had gotten the courage to speak up. "You're a sick fucking bastard, Joel," you told him as you push his arm from you and your face scrunched with false disgust. "A sick pervert," You spit out at him as you turn your body to him and point close to his face.

You refused to feed his ego, which was already inflated.

Your words did nothing to him, not even a little bit. "Oh, honey..." he said as his large hand rested on your lower back, "You were the one moanin' my name last night, but I'm the pervert? Now that ain't fair," Joel smirked.

You scoff before you speak again. "Get your hands off me now before I tell my dad."

Instead of letting you go, Joel pulls you into his body, making your hands come up to his chest so you can push away. Still, he didn't budge and kept pulling you closer to the point you could feel the hardness of his cock against your stomach.

What a sick man he is.

"Do it, baby, and I'll tell 'em all about what I saw and heard last night," he says as his hand drifts down to get a quick squeeze of your ass.

"You liked thinkin' about me fuckin' you? Makin' you squirm while you cum all over my fat cock." He whispered. You saw how Joel's eyes darkened with desire as he said this. Truthfully, it was giving you a strong indescribable feeling deep down in your stomach, reaching your core.

For a brief moment, the disgusted expression on your face faltered, your eyes had batted open and shut, and you let out a shaky sigh as you looked up at Joel—hopeful that he hadn't seen your quick moment of weakness. Except, he did. You looked back up at him only to see him deeply observing your face with a small smirk on his face as if he had just accomplished something great.

"You liked that?" He asked you cockily with his hand still resting on your ass. You just rolled your eyes at him as you tried to push yourself away from him a second time. "You like it when I talk to you like that?"

You didn't even have to answer him because he already knew the answer.

"You need to let me go before someone catches us, Joel," You tried to change the subject, but this only made his smirk bigger.

"Aw come on, sweetheart, no one is gonna see us," Joel insisted before looking over at your dad. "They're all doin' their own thing

His actions after this had caught you off guard.

You can feel his big hand trail up your body, while his other one still rested on your ass to keep you close to him; going from the back of your waist to the front and going up to your breasts, giving them a quick, firm squeeze as he cupped them over your shirt. You whimpered as you looked down at the sight between you and looked back up at him.

Joel's hand moved up again, but this time he wrapped his fingers around your neck. He loved the softness of your neck against his rough calloused hand.

His long fingers flexed around your neck, growing firmer as he held your face up at an angle just under your jaw as he bent down. "Or I can take you upstairs if you want..." Joel's grip tightened some more. "Make sure to take my time with you, darlin'," He said as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Not because of his hand around your throat—Joel made sure he wasn't choking you to death, but because of his words.

Joel had this seductive nature about him and it was obvious that he knew how to use it to his full advantage. He could probably get you to do anything he wanted.

Fuck—you couldn't believe that you were actually thinking about saying yes to Joel after the way he spoke to you. But again, there was some sick part of you that got a kick out of the way he spoke to you. You weren't exactly sure what it was about Joel that you allowed him to speak to you this way, but if this were anyone else, you were sure that you would have absolutely freaked out on them.

"Fuck, Joel," you whined as you felt him inhale the scent of your perfume that you spritzed a little below your ear earlier this morning.

"Mmm, you smell so good, baby, just wanna taste you," He murmured, taking in your scent. His mouth was so close to your neck, you wanted him to place his plush lips onto it. You wanted to feel the prickly feeling of his facial hair on your neck while he sucked, licked, and kissed it.

"Sweetheart!" You heard your dad call out, instantly pulling you out of the half-conscious state that Joel had you in. Your eyes shot wide open as quickly pushed Joel away from you, making release your neck and causing him almost fall to the ground as he stumbled back. Shit—he cursed out as he caught himself. You really didn't mean to push him that hard, but you were deathly afraid of your dad catching sight of his closest friend choking his daughter behind his back.

"Uh-yeah? I mean, yes, dad?"" You said as you scrambled to fix your clothes and make yourself seem as normal as possible. The adrenaline rush made you feel like your heart was damn near beating out of your chest and made your hands shake with fear.

"Y'all still ain't done with the dishes yet?" He asked, making you tried to voice out some lame excuse, but was unable to. Instead, all you could do was make these odd sounds.

"Anyway, you don't mind gettin' me a glass of water, do you? This damn headache won't go away," he groaned out. You felt relief at the fact that he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice.

"N-No, I'll-uh-get it for you in a sec," You told him as you looked over at Joel. He just looked at you with a faint worrisome expression on his face—his breathing was just as hard. You gave him an apologetic look before getting the glass of water for your dad.

You made no attempt to look at Joel as you brushed past him, you were too ashamed to look his way. Your hand was still trembling as you walked over to your dad, who was sprawled out on the couch, and handed him the water.

"Here you go,"

"Thanks, sweetheart!" He gave you a weak smile before downing the water, to which you returned as well. You plopped down next to your dad on the large couch as you heard Joel shut the water off in the kitchen and shuffled his way up the stairs.

You sat there feeling guilty as your dad talked to you about whatever was on his mind.

Even though you and Joel didn't go all the way, it still wasn't right to think of him in that way or allow him to do those things to you. You decided that you were going to stop thinking about joel for good.

...

Bill and Frank were great, though Frank was a little more lively. The moment you greeted them Frank gave you a quick side hug with a bright smile on his face, which caught you be surprise, and Bill just stood awkwardly next his husband as he introduced himself to everyone.

And then there was Tess.

You along with Sarah watched the painful sight in front of you as her and Joel introduced themselves to each other. You tried not to listen to their conversation, but you were curious and you couldn't help it. They barely speaking a word to each other besides saying their names and where they were from, which made you a little happy because it meant Joel wasn't interested.

Thank god.

"Well, that was a fail," you heard Sarah say not-so quietly, making you let out a chuckle.

Then Tess came over to us, making you both straighten up. From the moment you met her, she was nothing but nice to you and Sarah. She introduced herself to the two of you, smiled, and shook your hands.

"I'm Sarah, Joel's daughter," Sarah beamed at her.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Tess smiled warmly at the young girl before turning to you, "And what's your name, sweetheart?" She asked. Her calling you sweetheart caught you by surprise honestly.

"Oh, i'm Y/N...that man right there is my dad," you said as you pointed to your father who was a little behind Tess, making her laugh a bit.

"Well, it's lovely meeting you as well." She softly stroked your arm, causing you to tremble with nervousness. Just as she finished her sentence, your dad and Tommy suggested that all the older adults go and hang out in the back while there was still light, to which they all agreed.

"Hopefully I'll catch up with you girls later?" she asked. Sarah and you just nodded your head before she gave the two of you one last smile before walking to the back.

That was weird, you thought for a moment.

"Tess seems nice," you said now that the house was completely silent, making Sarah nod her head in agreement.

"Yeah, she did, too bad my dad didn't seem interested in her," she shook her head, "anyway, what do you wanna do now that it's just us?"

"Mmm," You tried to think about what you could do with her, "I think Maria has some cookie dough in the fridge, you wanna bake cookies and play card games?" You asked the young girl.

"Sure!"

The two of you walked to the kitchen—you grabbed the cookie dough from the fridge and the baking sheet from the bottom cabinet. "You mind preheating the oven?"

Sarah walked over to the oven before staring at it, confused on how to use it. "Um, I think you're gonna have to do it. I'm not sure how to even work this thing," she turned to you.

You let out a giggle as you go to preheat the oven. After you did that, you stood next to Sarah as you both began to place cookies onto the baking sheet.

"You know we're gonna have to make a lot, right?" Sarah giggles out.

"And why is that?"

"My dad is obsessed with chocolate chip cookies," She confessed to you, "he'd probably eat them all if you let him."

This made you laugh.

Joel Miller liking chocolate chip cookies came to somewhat as a surprise to you. He didn't seem like the type to enjoy sweets, but according to his daughter he did and you found it cute.

Once you two had finished putting the last pieces of cookie dough on the sheet, you picked it up and went to open the oven. "Can you put on a time for 15 minutes, please?" You asked her as you place them into the oven.

"Sure," Sarah then began the timer for the cookies right as you closed the oven.

"So what was up with that phone call you got earlier? Sounded pretty serious," you asked her as you sat down at the island next to her.

Sarah lets out a loud sigh before talking, "where do I even start," she groaned. She began to tell you all about the drama amongst her friend group—supposedly, her best friend, Lillian, got with their ex-best friend's current boyfriend and now it's a whole situation. Sometimes you would ask a question or even give your two cents about the situation.

"And you wanna know the kicker to all this? Him and Lillian used to date last year and our ex-best friend got with him while they were dating, so we kicked her out the friend group," Sarah tells you. As soon as you let out a dramatic gasp, the alarm for the fifteen minutes had went off.

You got up and went to the oven, "wait, why would Lillian get back with him again? That doesn't seem smart," You say as you grab the mits from the countertop and took the cookies out the oven.

"I don't know," Sarah sighs out, you couldn't help but to laugh at her frustration at the situation.

Teenagers are so funny.

"You guys are crazy," You tell her as you, "You should tell your friend to leave him alone, he seems like bad news,"

"I have, but she doesn't listen," Sarah said in a disappointed tone.

You just shrugged your shoulders, "cookies are done, we just gotta let them cool for a bit,"

Just as you were letting the cookies cool down, Sarah asked you about your high school experience. You began to tell her all about it—your friend group was small and you mostly stayed to yourself throughout the whole time there. You made sure to focus on your school work rather than getting wrapped up in the silly drama or with boys.

Bill walks into the house and asked where the bathroom was, which you point him to the direction where it was and he went on with his business.

A few minutes later, as you and Sarah were munching on the soft chocolate chip cookies, Bill comes back from the bathroom, "It smells delicious in here," he mumbles as he makes his way to the door.

"You can have some if you would like, Bill? We made sure to make enough for everyone," You told him as you give him a small smile.

"I shouldn't," he said reluctantly, but you quickly reassured him that he could have some if he wanted.

"Well if you insist," Bill grabs a napkin before taking two cookies and said a low thanks as he made his way outside with them.

"I bet they're all gonna come in here to get cookies," Sarah laughs as she finished up her cookie.

And she was right.

They all eventually crowded into the kitchen around the island as they devoured the cookies, nearly eating them all. In between their chews, they spoke loudly to each other.

You tried to engage in with conversation with them, but you were too busy watching Joel. You watched as he had his right arm wrapped loosely around his daughter's shoulders while the other one brought cookies up to his mouth—he looked relax right now.

And sexy too.

You didn't see that Tess was next to you until she spoke up.

"Thank you for the cookies by the way, they were really good," She said to you with a kind smile on her face as she looked at you. Her eyes lingered on your face for a little

"Oh-thanks! I-It was nothing really, we were just really bored and needed something to do," You laughed awkwardly, squirming with nervousness. You couldn't even make eye contact with her while speaking to her.

Tess made you feel nervous in ways that you couldn't describe. Not as nervous as Joel makes you, but close.

"No problem, sweetie,"

...

You were starting to fucking hate this.

Sitting here and pretending to not be affected by watching Joel flirt with the hot, older woman made you want to flip your shit.

You hated to admit it, but your dad and Tommy was right—Tess absolutely was Joel's type. She's hot, smart, a tough woman, yet she was kind, and most importantly, she is close in age to Joel. She was also kind of like the female version of Joel.

At first, there was this awkward tension between Tess and Joel that was almost hilarious to you, but it quickly dissolved as the evening progressed and the drinks began going, making it no longer funny to you.

You had to remind yourself that you decided to back off of Joel that morning, but whatever was happening between the two quickly made you forget about it.

After a little while of being around them in the kitchen after baking the cookies, you sat down on the couch to unwind for a bit. However, that quickly ended when Joel and Tess decided to join on the couch right across from you.

While everyone was still sitting around the kitchen island, listening to music and laughing, you were sipping on your beer and looking at them with no expression on your face.

You didn't even like beer, you just needed something to drink on right now.

Joel was relaxed as he spoke to her, with his muscular thighs spread wide open as he held onto the beer in between them while the other arm rested on the head of the couch. He looked so relaxed and comfortable talking to her.

Sometimes, your eyes would sweep down his body, causing you to catch sight of his pants-covered bulge. You weren't going to lie and say that you weren't looking because you absolutely were.

Next to him was Tess, she sat closely to him with her legs folded up on the couch as she faced Joel, giving him her undivided attention. They both spoke in hushed whispers to each other, occasionally letting out some laughs.

She looked so beautiful as she sat there attentively listening to Joel as she gave him a smirk and flipped her long hair to the side, giving him a view of her neck.

God, you hated how jealous this made you.

And the worst part of this all is that he hadn't given you an ounce of attention since she got here. Ever since the incident in the kitchen this morning, he was distant and didn't pay you any mind—matter-of-fact, Joel just pretended that you didn't exist and that made you even more mad. Whenever you were around, he would avoid eye contact with you.

While you were staring down Joel and Tess, Sarah had suddenly appeared next to you as she plopped down on the seat next to you.

"You alright?" She asked you as you took another sip of your beer. "You look pissed right now."

Was it that obvious? If Sarah can notice the look on your face, that meant so did everyone else.

"Oh, me? I'm good, just some boy problems back at college," You lied to Sarah so she wouldn't know the real reason you looked mad.

Okay—was all she said to you, sounding unconvinced, but didn't push any further.

"My dad and Tess look pretty comfortable now," She leaned over and whispered to you. "Never seen him this way with a woman before,"

Honestly, this didn't seem surprising to you at all.

From the way Joel seemed reluctant to even get to know Tess earlier and the awkwardness when she had gotten here made it very apparent to you. Had you not seen any of this, you would've thought that he was quite the ladies man from the way he spoke to you whenever the two of you were alone.

"Interesting," was all you said as you took a sip of your beer again.

"Anyway, you wanna go to my room and watch a movie?" Sarah asked. "I'm gettin' bored of them already," You laughed and nodded your head in agreement and began to get off the couch, still watching the two across from you. Still, Joel continued to talk to the lady without even spairing you a glance.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the steps to go upstairs.

Fuck Joel.

...

It was getting late and Sarah eventually fell asleep a some time after you started the second movie. She was knocked out cold. You were tired as well, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either so you decided to go to your room for the night.

Before quietly slipping out of Sarah's room, you made sure to put the blanket over her and turn off the tv. Afterwards you brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, which was just a tank top and your underwear, before getting into bed.

For a while, you laid in the dark and scroll through Instagram while you blasting music through your headphones. You were tired, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either.

You suddenly felt the vibrations of a door slamming shut and heard the muffled sounds as well, making you yank your headphones off. It almost scared you to death.

You waited a moment to hear for any sounds that might follow up after. It was silent for the most part besides the sound of Joel's heavy footsteps next door, he must be getting ready for bed. You also assumed that Bill, Frank, and Tess had went back to their place because you didn't hear the music playing downstairs anymore or the sound of them talking loudly.

You were about to put your headphones back on until you heard Joel start to talk. You thought that he must've been on the phone or talking to himself until you heard the tone of a females voice—it was Tess. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you hear them talking back and forth to each other.

At this point, you were holding your breath as you tried to eavesdrop, completely interested as to what they were doing in Joel's room together.

Joel must've said something funny to Tess because she laughed fairly loud at whatever he said.

He isn't that funny, you begrudgingly thought to yourself.

One of them flopped down on the bed, causing the bed to creak and the headboard hit against the wall. And because the beds were on the same wall, you could hear almost everything. They continued to talk for a while until it went completely silent and the bed creaked again.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions because you weren't sure what was going on in that room and you and Joel aren't anything so it really shouldn't matter to you. You also felt weird sitting there in the dark, snooping on Joel and Tess so you decided to try and get some sleep.

You readjusted in the bed and closed your eyes—occasionally tossing and turning because it felt like there was a million thoughts going through your mind right now.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard faint sounds of the bed screeching and the headboard thumping against the wall. The sounds were unbroken until Tess lets out a low moan, causing the noise to come to an abrupt stop and Joel shushes her.

He was fucking her and you were hearing it.

Joel says something to her and the noise continues again, this time it was a little fast. Your heart was beating against your chest just as fast, if not faster. The sound of your heart beating almost muted the sounds of Joel and Tess fucking.

Joel's grunts got a little louder as Tess lets out a few fucks here and there along with a couple moans. You listen closely to the plap-plap-plap sound that were smothered by the wall.

There's no way that you were the only one hearing this because they were not quiet.

It probably would've been best if you put your headphones back on, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. There was something about it that made you furious, yet aroused. It shouldn't have, but it did and so much to the point that you felt a throb begin to form at your core.

You needed to relieve the ache somehow and suddenly this bright idea popped into your head. You slipped your underwear off and threw them somewhere off the bed before grabbing a pillow as you get onto your knees on the bed and tucked in the sides a bit, and straddled it.

You began to steadily rocking your hips back and forth, feeling your folds grind against the pillow and the wetness spreading as you became increasingly wet, as you tried to match the pace. Quiet whimpers escaped your mouth though you were trying to stay silent.

You felt like a creep listening to them and you knew you would feel ashamed of your actions later, but right now you didn't care, you just wanted to touch yourself.

At that moment, you thought back to earlier, remembering the way that Joel sat on the couch, sprawled out as he talked to Tess. You imagined him under you, seated the same way while you were on top of him grinding against his hard cock. His warm, rough hands would be gripping at your waist underneath your tank top, as he guided your hips. One of his hands would trail up to your braless breast and cup it while he would thumb at your erect nipple.

You grab onto the headboard, picturing it was his shoulders you were holding onto.

"Feel so good, daddy," You breathed out as if he were actually under you. "Makin' me feel soo good,"

"Atta girl, you like grindin' your pussy against this cock? Huh, baby?" he would ask you before letting out a loud grunt as he tried to hold back from cumming over his stomach and between your thighs.

Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you imagined this and your hips move faster against the pillow, making the headboard hit the wall harder.

"Yes, Joel," you moaned out as if he were actually there, not even realizing how loud you were.

You assumed you weren't being loud at all, but in actuality, you were. Tess and Joel had heard everything from the moment you started. Due to the wall and the fact that you were just so caught up in your own fantasies, you couldn't even hear them talking about you.

"S-she can hear us, Joel," Tess groaned out to Joel, but not once did Joel stop his thrust. He kept going because knowing that you were pleasuring yourself turned him on.

"Yeah? Let her hear," Joel purred as he felt Tess pulse around his cock. His thrust got faster, intensifying the harsh sound of the frame striking against the neighboring wall.

Just on the other side of the wall, you were hunched over listening to them and humping against the poor pillow. "P-Please, daddy, don't stop," You shook your head as you go to grip the pillow under you so you could get more friction. You could feel the sweat dripping down your face from how intense this whole thing was, but you didn't dare to stop.

You were barely listening to Joel and Tess anymore as you were close to your orgasm.

"Don't fuckin' stop," your torso was stiff as you opened your legs wider and pushed your core down on the pillow harder. Your toes wiggled and curled as you were seconds away from cumming. You whimpered Joel mindlessly the closer you got.

You needed this badly, you need him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cumming," was the last thing you rasped before biting down on your lip. Not once did you stop nor slowed down the thrust of your hips as you shook with pleasure. You kept going as you chased your climax, hardly even breathing.

Right after you, Joel came shortly after.

"Aw, fuck!" he grunted loudly as he held onto Tess' hips. His seed spilling into the condom. Because his thoughts were so hazy at the moment and the only thing he could think of you, he nearly moaned out your name while fucking Tess, but thankfully he stopped himself before it could roll off his tongue.

"Shit, Joel," Tess groaned, cumming around his cock. Joel stayed behind her for a moment, still holding onto her buckling hips.

Eventually, Joel pulls out and collapses next to her before pulling the condom from his cock, tying it, and sat it on the nightstand. Tess does the same. They both say nothing to each other as they lay there.

Joel wondered what you were doing now.

Meanwhile, you were still trying to catch your breath, still holding onto the headboard as you tried to calm yourself.

You heard the talking as they got out the bed and moved around the room to put on their clothes you assumed.

Finally, Joel's door opens and you can hear them walking out of the room and go down stairs.

The front door opens as they quietly exchanged a few words to each other.

Joel eventually shuts the door and makes his way back upstairs. Once again, you could hear his heavy footsteps as he trot up the steps.

You decided that once he goes back in his room, you were going to dash to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made on yourself.

You were about to get out of the bed so you could clean yourself until heard Joel's feet about to shuffle past your door before he stopped right in front of it. You sat down on the middle of the bed, waiting for him to go to his room.

Joel hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should knock on your door, but he decided to do it anyway.

Joel's hard knuckles knocks at your door making your body go stiff. You were going to pull the blanket over your body and answer him, but you decided to pretend to act like you were sleeping.

You thought that this worked until your door suddenly swung open, revealing the large outline of Joel Miller. You scrambled to pull the duvet over the bare bottom-half of your body, hoping that he didn't see anything.

He stood there a moment before speaking up. "You good, sweetheart?" Joel asked you. He obviously knew you were awake.

It took you a few seconds before you replied as you were trying to calm your beating heart after he scared you. "Yeah, i'm fine, Joel," you said, thinking that he would just fuck off and go back to his room, he didn't. Instead, he came fully walked into the room and closed the door behind himself before making his way over to the bed.

"W-What the hell are you doing, Joel?" You asked him, caught off guard that he would just come in here.

Joel was going to speak until he realized something got caught onto his slipper as he approached the edge of your bed, making him suddenly stop and look down. Because it was dark in the room, he could tell what it was, but it was obvious that it was a piece of clothing. He bends down and grabs it, feeling a slight dampness to it before coming back up and holding the material out in front of him.

Joel goes to flick on the lights and your heart flutters when you see what he was holding. You look at Joel with a panic look on your face and see that he had this surprise, yet smug expression on his face.

It was your fucking underwear that you threw off.

"Look what we have here, sweetheart," He says as he walks closer to the bed, making you clutch the duvet closer to your body. "These yours?" He asked you even though he knew the answer.

"Can you put them down, please?" You pleaded with him silently as your face burned with embarrassment. He doesn't answer you, instead he brings the damp fabric up to his nose and inhales your scent, closing his eyes as he took it in. You let out a squeak, surprised that he was doing this.

Again, if this were anyone else you'd probably be creeped out by this, but there was something about Joel that made you want him badly.

"Smells so fuckin' good," he says as he pulled them away from his nose. You just look at him, mouth agape as he opens his eyes, balls up your panties into his hand, and sits on the edge of the bed. As if your grip couldn't get any tighter, you pull at the duvet again, hoping that Joel wasn't seeing anything under it. He immediately noticed you doing this and looked at you curiously with his dark eyes, making you feel nervous.

"What's under the blanket, baby?"Joel asked as he pointed at your lap.

You shook your head and avoided eye contact with him, "please don't make me do this, Joel," you begged him again, but he didn't budge one bit.

"Oh come on. Be a good girl and show me what you're hiding under there," He said sternly. You didn't need much convincing because you quickly gave into his demand. You slowly move the blanket off of you, shaking as the feeling the air hits between your legs.

Joel groans at the sight. "Baby, look at you," his deep southern voice says so softly as he brings his warm on on top of your thigh, making your thighs clench together.

"No no no, you don't close those legs unless I tell you, you understand me?" You nodded your head and let him pull your legs open.

"So beautiful up close," He groans out. His hand moved to the inside of your thigh and slid up, making you whimper. Your core throbbed again, longing for him, but he never did.

"Touch me, daddy, please." You whispered to him, so desperately.

"Mmm, not tonight, baby," He says, while his fingers continued to tease you. "Can you do somethin' for me?" He asked softly.

"Yes, Joel," you said and nodded your head without a second thought, ready to do anything he asked you.

"I want you to show me how you were touchin' yourself when you were listenin' to me and Tess,"

You stilled once he said this, you didn't know that he heard you moaning. "W-what?"

"Don't be so surprised, girl. You weren't bein' very quiet." He teased you before speaking up again. "Now, I want you to show me,"

You sat there for a moment, embarrassed that you were about to do this in front of Joel. You grab the cum-soaked pillow before getting up onto your knees on the bed and stradling it, trying not to look at him.

"Look at me." He orders. You look at him, feeling nervous as he watched you with his intense gaze. "Now, ride the pillow. Slowly."

At first, you were reluctant as you began to slowly grind against the pillow, so embarrassed at the moment that you couldn't even enjoy the pleasure. And the look on Joel's face made you want to die.

He brings his hand onto your thigh making your stop, "Relax yourself," he mutters.

You nod your head before you let out a loud sigh. You try to calm yourself down before you lean forward, making your back arch and held onto the pillow with one hand while the other kept you up.

You began to move your hips, this time feeling a little more comfortable as you did so. You let out a weak whine as the pillow grazed against your wet clit.

"Good, darlin', go a lil faster now,"

You didn't need any convincing with that, you instantly went faster, making the bed frame to knock against the wall.

Joel's cock jumped in his pants as he watched you with greed in his eyes. He wished he could take you right there, make you weep and bite into the pillow as he pounded into your wet pussy.

"Look at ya, humping that pillow like a slut," he groaned, thinking about you riding him the same way. "You like being a slut, don't you?" Joel asked you.

"Mmhmm—I love it so f-fucking much, Joel," You moaned as you convulse on the pillow, nearly cumming.

"P-please—" was all you said. You couldn't even get the words out of your mouth as the the uncontrollable waves of pleasure passed through your body.

"Please what, baby? What do you want?" He pressed for you to continue your sentence.

"Please touch me, I need to feel you right now," You grab Joel's hand from the bed and bring it up to your breast, taking him by surprise.

Such a needy girl, Joel thought as he felt your hard nipples through the cotton. He fumbled and teased at them before pinching your nipple, making you yelp loudly and your back arch more.

"Baby, you gotta be quiet or someone will hear you." He whispered to you, trying to get you to be quiet.

Instead of just being quiet, you shook your stubbornly, closed your eyes in pleasure, and bit your lips, loving the feeling you were experiencing right now.

"I don't give a fuck," You said as you breath out a humorless chuckle, after releasing your lip from your teeth.

The way you were acting right now in front of Joel surprised him a bit—it was different than the way you were this morning, even minutes ago. He didn't mind though, not one bit. Joel actually enjoyed seeing you this way. So wild, allowing your pleasure to take over.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum," You gasped out.

"Yeah? You gonna cum?" Joel teased. Mmhm, you whimpered in response as he releases your breast and starts to move his hand up your shirt, starting from your hips and going up your tank top. He palms your breast again, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin, and flicks your nipple hard.

"Come on, cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you moan for me," He eagerly said as he watched your body tremble, ready to fall apart for him. Your moans got louder and louder before your breathing hitched and got caught in your throat.

You came almost immediately, your body shook and your hand went to your clit as you keep on grinding on the pillow, intensifying your orgasm. "Daddy, oh fuu-shit!" you squeaked.

"Look at you, my pretty, slutty baby. Cummin' so hard f'me," he purred, but you couldn't get out your words. You were so overwhelmed that you nearly fell over as you tried to keep yourself up, but luckily you didn't.

Joel continued to spew out teasing comments as he egged on your climax, until you eventually calmed down a bit. He removed his hand from your shirt as your slumped against the bed with exhaustion.

He let out a chuckle as you face plant into the bed before giving your back some rubs as he tried to calm you down. You were breathing heavy as your body trembled and your hips rolled against the pillow, causing you to let out a dreamy moan.

"Oh darlin', come on, get up so you can lay down right...gonna hurt your back laying like that," Joel said to you softly. You were tired as hell and on the verge of falling asleep right there, so you stayed there for a little before getting up.

Once you did get up, you fell back into the soft pillows with your eyes closed as you felt yourself relax into them.

You can feel as Joel grabbed the pillow from that you humped from between your legs. You thought that he was going to put it to the side or something, but that wasn't the case at all.

"Oh, baby, look at the mess you made," you hear him say, almost moaning. Your eyes shoot open, which you catch him running his finger through your wetness on the pillow, bringing it to his mouth, and licking it off. He groaned the moment it touches his tongue, which made your eyes widen with shock and you let out a gasp.

To Joel, you tasted as good as you smelled and he loved it.

"Joel, why would you do that?" You asked him, shocked that he would do that.

He gives you a wide smirk, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "Why not, baby? You taste so good."

You say nothing after this, feeling flustered by his actions.

It was quiet between the two of you until you remembered that you didn't have anything on from the waist down.

You were tired, but you gathered the strength to get up from the bed.

"Where you goin', sweet girl?" Joel asked you as you made your way to your bag.

There's that name again. You loved it when he called you that.

"Just grabbin' some shorts," you looked over at Joel as you bent down to grab your shorts and put them on, feeling his eyes on you, watching you so intensely. "I can feel you watching me, Mr. Miller," you tease him.

"Mr. Miller, huh?" You turned around and made your way back to the bed to find Joel still watching you.

You just nodded your head as you plopped down onto the bed a lay down. You pat the spot next to you, trying to get him to lay down next to you, which he obviously got the hint.

"Want me to lay with you, darlin'?" He looked over to you, searching your face for permission.

You quickly nodded your head as you scoot over to make room for Joel, making him crack a small smile on his hard face.

God he looked so handsome when he smiled.

"Alright, baby."

Joel laid on his back on the pillow next to you, making readjust yourself as you snuggled into him with your head and hand resting on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing you closer to his body.

You laid there listening to his steady heart beat, your heavy eyelids almost closed.

You noticed that he had all the chances to touch you, even have sex with you, yet he never did and it made you wonder why.

Before you could stop yourself, you called his name."Joel?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He asked

You hesitated before speaking up again, afraid of what you might hear from him, but fuck it.

"Why won't you touch me?" You asked him curiously, the sleep was audible in your voice.

He was quiet for a moment, making your wrench with rejection, until he spoke up. "One day, baby. Just not right now, okay?"

You nodded your head against his chest before answering. "Okay," You said softly, feeling somewhat content with his response, but still feeling a little rejected.

At least he didn't say never, you thought to yourself.

"Good girl, now get some sleep." He said, making you nuzzle into his chest and close your eyes, almost instantly drifting to sleep as you felt his hard body under you.

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