#I’m on the verge of leaving everyone

[canvasism]

Lmao vent art (I’m trying not to Kms)

Btw this is how I come up with new personas, I feel like a fucking mess, I’m burnt the fuck out and been relapsing like the devils on my ass

The song is opium by mili

[sassmill]

Cool so everybody wants to get smacked today? Is that it???

[yoohyeon]

Saw that the Tumblr icon on my iPad changed so I went to see what’s up and WE FINALLY CAN REPLY WITH THE BLOG WE WANT !!! THANK YOU !!! Now staff make it so when you block someone it’s block on all sb too thanks I’m tired of blocking 3 times

[tojirights]

bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻

so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.

instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..

a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍

alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.

upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.

"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.

"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."

alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.

"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.

his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.

"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.

"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.

alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.

you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.

---

"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.

"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.

[mrsbarnesblog]

i need help

summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)

a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂

You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 

Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.

“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.

“I said, what–”

“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”

“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”

“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”

“I told you no.” 

 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 

“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”

“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 

“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 

“Both.”

You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 

And you always gave it to him. 

But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.

“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.

“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”

“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 

It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 

“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 

You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”

“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.

“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    

[yanderenightmare]

part two

TW: none? ig

fem reader

You’re there with a friend, only waiting, holding her stuff—feeling in-the-way posted on the wall as closely as possible, making yourself as small as you could while models and other busy passersby buzzed about back and forth in front of you.

Your friend—one of the many models—had just done her fifth outfit change and was all but running back to the photo shoot. Apparently, the photographer was a real jackass.

Jackass was an understatement. You feared he’d turn around from the white background sheet he was facing, spot you and tell you that you didn’t belong in there and to get the fuck out. He was certainly shouting that same thing to some of the models.

Your friend was then next to bite the bullet—being the fifteenth model he’d sent on their sorry way. 

You’d honestly thought it was for the best—she’d get nothing but scorn modeling for that narcissistic drama queen anyway. You give her your best sympathetic smile as she teeters over. It doesn’t surprise you to see her on the verge of tears. Some of the prior ones had been all but bawling their eyes out, running out of the room as fast as they could. But you couldn't blame them—if anyone were to shout at you that way, you’d most likely have died on the spot.

His eyes fall to the back of the room in frustration—a heavy sigh leaving him. Seems he was out of models already. What a pity until—right there, standing small and almost insignificant next to the changing area, there’s you—the perfect face he’d been needing.

“Oi you, get dressed,” he bites with a finger pointed towards you. But no, he must have changed his mind about your friend who’s standing next to you as you hand her back her clothes.

She brightens up when she notices, dropping her clothes back in your arms to go back, only—

“No, not you,” he very nearly sneers. “You there,” he points again—this time, it isn’t a question of who it’s directed at. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

There’s such a harshness to his tone that you’re almost convinced you’ve done something wrong. But no, you’re not supposed to be dressed.

“I’m not a model,” you call back.

At that, he scoffs. The smile on his face must be the cockiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Everyone’s a model, sweetheart. We’ll send you a check in the mail.”

Your eyes are round—too stunned to be affronted. He taps his shoe, hardened gaze directed at you, unwavering in wait. You’re almost scared to say no.

“Well? What’s it gonna be?”

It’s only been a few seconds, and still, he sounds as if he’s been waiting forever—exuding impatience on a level you’ve never seen.

You open your mouth to tell him off, but a tug from your side makes you stop.

“You have to,” your friend ushers. “It’ll be trouble for me if you don’t.”

You give her an incredulous look—but she only grabs you and drags you with her into the many rows of clothes, picks out your size, and helps you get into it before you’ve even said another word aside from a pitiful “Wait—” 

Lastly, she applies some light makeup to your face before pushing you out into view of the waiting photographer.

You’re in too deep to be turning back now. Besides, you wouldn’t want your friend to get fired when she works so hard just to have gotten in the same room as the guy before you—so you end up walking over, ever so awkwardly—not used to the height of the cigarette heels.

If he notices, which he most certainly does, he doesn’t say anything.

He seems to have found some patience he lacked, watching you—bearing an expression, almost amused.

You don’t return the favor, looking down as you stop before him.

“So, uhm—what, ugh—” you mumble, on your way to peek behind you, hoping to get some sort of direction from your friend, when he grabs your chin and makes you face him.

Still, he makes no sound—only wetting his thumb with a lick of his tongue before putting it to the outer corner of your eye. You gasp, but it doesn’t deter him as he smudges the eyeliner to his liking. Doing the same with the other eye. He continues until he’s satisfied. Keeping his grasp on your chin, he angles your face here and there slightly while his intense glare rakes over you like he’s a tortured artist chiseling a sculpture to some vision in his head—then hums with a smile, softly, “Perfect.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part two is right here

You were with Alyssane when the doors burst open and could only watch as a bloodied and bruised Benji was being held up in the arms of two other boys, who were also bruised and bloodied but not nearly to the extent that Benjicot was.

This type of scenario happens far too often at this point for you to feel anything but exasperation at who had pissed Benji off to the point of no return, for Benjicot Blackwood was a short fuse disguised as a awkward, shy but honest to god good man, and everyone in the realm knew that the devil himself runs away in fear when a good man goes to war.

‘What happened this time?’ Alyssane asked, just as unfazed by this predicament as you were as she crossed her arms over her chest, while the two men holding Benji up shared a look between themselves before looking back at yourself and Alyssane.

‘There were some Brackens-‘

‘Here we go.’ You whispered under your breath, finding yourself already foreseeing how this interaction with their rival house might’ve went down; they crossed paths, started provoking each other, swords being drawn and fists being thrown as the accumulated testosterone between the rivalling houses chokes the air.

‘-and they said something to Benji that made him madder then I’ve ever seen him.’ The boy with the pale hair on benji’s left continued recounting the story as the the boy on Benji’s right, a boy with chestnut hair and slight facial hummed in agreement as he shifted Ben’s arm on his shoulder when he felt the young lord slipping from his grip. ‘Yeah and after beating them with an inch of their lives, he wouldn’t tell us what those Bracken bastards said.’

You looked closely at Benji, feeling your heart wretch as you watched his eyes try their best to focus on something before they fell on you, and suddenly he was smiling as though he was trying to reassure that he wasn’t hurt that bad; acting as though he wasn’t currently on the verge of collapse. You hated how much his sweet side affected you to the point your dreaming about it for weeks on end knowing that it was fruitless to ask for more.

You may have gotten use to Benji getting into fights but you will never be use to seeing him hurt, you’d rather he be safe and unharmed but that seems like too much of an ask even for him; despite how many times he’s promised you that he’d be careful only to come back bruised knuckles, bloodied faced and looking as though he fought a bear and won.

‘I’m fine.’ Benji slurred as he tried to stand up and walk a few paces forward, just for his legs to have out beneath him as the floor rushed up to meet him, but you managed to run across the hall to catch him in your arms. ‘Gods you’re heavy.’ You groaned as you wrestled one of his arms over your shoulder as he lent most of his weight against you, trying your hardest not to let the smell of cedar wood get the best of you.

‘I did it for you.’ Ben murmured incoherently.

‘What?’ You asked, feeling as little overexposed by the eyes of his aunt and the two boys who dragged him in here as they dig into you.

‘I did it for you.’ He said again a little louder this time. ‘I did it for you and I’d do it all over again for you to prove just how important you are to me.’ Benjicot adds with a dopey smile as he closes his eyes and the rest of his weight has your knees close to buckling underneath you, however the urge to know what he meant by that and how it correlates to beating the Brackens black and blue gave you the strength to keep him upright as you looked over at Alyssane, who looked at you both with a knowing look in her eye.

‘I’ll go fetch a Maester and I’ll trust that you y/n will get him up to his room.’ She says before leaving the hall and you to ponder whether or not you were being pranked right now, for as you went to look for the two boys behind you for help, only to find that they had seemingly disappeared into thin air.

‘You’ve got a lot of explaining to do when you wake up Blackwood.’ You said to no one in particular as you began the long journey to Benji’s room.

[fastandcarlos]

Sleepless Nights : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as your daughter cries out yet again, you can't help but feel like the problem, especially when max swoops in and saves the day again

A frustrated sigh escaped as what felt like for the thousandth time that night you heard cries coming from across your home. Beside you, Max turned onto his back, meeting your eyes as he offered a sympathetic smile, feeling exactly how you felt, exhausted and on the verge of tears. 

You’d been up and down for most of the night, unable to quite settle your daughter. With Max only home for a few days before the track called again, you’d decided to take on most of the night jobs to try and let him get some rest. 

However, as you sat up and went to leave the bed again, two hands on your shoulders pulled you straight back down. “It’s my turn, you’ve done more than enough tonight,” Max whispered, sitting himself up instead. 

“She’s never been this bad before,” you hummed, allowing yourself to settle back down. 

Max stood up and stretched, momentarily looking back at you. “I’ll go and see if maybe a change of face will do the trick,” Max suggested, keeping his footsteps quiet as he left your bedroom, shutting the door behind him to try and not disturb you. 

As much as you knew Max needed to rest, you couldn’t help but feel thankful that he had got up this time. Your tank was empty and your frustrations were growing. Of course, you adored your daughter, but she sure knew how to give you a restless night of sleep. 

“What’s wrong baby girl?” Max whispered as he walked into your daughter’s room, peering over her cot and reaching in, scooping her up and pressing her against his bare chest.  

Max walked around the room with your daughter for a few moments, rocking her gently as her sobs began to quieten down. His eyes didn’t leave her, studying her closely with a smile on his face, walking out of the room and into your bedroom once she was quiet again. 

“I think someone might be feeling a little bit needy tonight,” Max laughed as he took a seat beside you on the bed, keeping your daughter in his hold as you shuffled to face them both. 

As you sat up, Max reached across with your daughter, offering her into your hold. As you took her though, the volume went straight back up, making you immediately flinch back and give your daughter back to Max again.  

“Love,” Max whispered as your eyes went wide, guilt filling you up. Your hands brushed through your hair as you watched her go quiet again once Max had her. “Maybe she just wants her daddy tonight.” 

Max knew you like a book, he could tell exactly what was going through your mind. It almost felt as if you were the problem, the one that kept your daughter crying because she didn’t want you, she wanted Max. He seemed to be the one that solved your daughter’s problems, whilst you just seemed to make things worse. 

And as your daughter went quiet again, it felt like the weight of the world was coming down on you. “Don’t think like that,” a voice spoke, breaking you from your thoughts, with Max knowing exactly what was going through your head. 

You smiled softly across at him, wishing it was just that easy. Motherhood was hard, but raising your baby was harder than you ever thought it would be, especially as so much of it you were having to do all alone. 

“I can’t seem to do the right thing,” you whispered, burying your head into your hands, “I’m trying to do everything I can to make her happy but it’s like I’m the problem, the reason that she’s crying so often.” 

Max sighed as you spoke, with your daughter in one arm, his other wrapped around your shoulders. He hated how hard you were being on yourself, even if you didn’t see all the good that you were doing, he absolutely did. 

“I thought having a baby was supposed to be a dream,” you admitted. 

Everyone had told you how amazing having a baby was, but for you, it felt like the opposite. Watching Max come in and save the day again and again was lovely, but at the same time, it felt like a knife in the back for you, as if to show you all the things you were doing wrong. 

Max’s hand moved up and brushed over the top of your head as he heard faint sobs coming from beside him. “What am I supposed to do when you go back to race next week? Do I just sit here and let her cry night after night?” 

“No, because that’s not what you do,” Max assured you, “you’re an amazing mum.” 

“It doesn’t feel that way, it feels like I’m messing up constantly,” you confessed, your voice a faint whisper. 

It killed Max to listen to you to hear how hard you were being on yourself. He was beyond proud of all that you were doing, if anything, he wished that he could do more instead of having to leave you and go to work all the time.  

“Love, listen to me, please,” Max asked you. “These things take time, it’s all about routine and we’re all still learning about each other. I promise that it’s going to get easier, the first few weeks are always the hardest.” 

“Do you really think we’ll get there?” You nervously asked, looking up and across at Max. “You think we’ll get through this?” 

“Absolutely,” he insisted with a smile. “I’m struggling too, I’ve never raised a baby before and I mess up too, I just do a better job of hiding it so that you don’t see,” Max joked. 

“You make mistakes?” You queried, surprised by Max’s sudden confession. “You always just seem to have everything under control, I’m in awe of you most of the time.” 

Rather than reply, Max held your daughter out to you again. Your hands nervously held out as she placed her down, a smile gracing your face as Max let go and the room remained silent, exactly what you had been hoping for. 

“There you go,” Max proudly grinned, nudging against your side. “You’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself, you’re doing the most amazing job.” 

Your smile softened as you glanced down at your daughter, relieved to see her settle in your hold. Max was right, you had placed a lot of pressure on yourself, perhaps a little too much. You knew with time you would figure things out, you just needed to be more confident that you could achieve it. 

Max’s eyes remained on you both, feeling his heart swell with pride. “When you feel like you’re struggling I want you to talk to me love, even if I might be thousands of miles away on the other side of the world.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, silently promising that you wouldn’t bottle things up like you had been doing, refusing to suffer in silence any longer. 

“Every day is going to be different, some days it will go well, others it won’t, but that’s all part of the fun of raising a family,” Max reminded you, ���I’m not going to let you sit back and feel like you’re not doing enough, because you are.” 

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You quizzed. 

Max chuckled in reply to you, “you didn’t get lucky with me, I’m the one who got lucky with you. We’re a team, that’s what’s always made us so successful.” 

“I know, but you always just happen to know the right thing to say.” 

“And so do you, that’s why I love you so much,” Max reminded you, “it’s why you’re my best friend.” 

“I love you so much too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, katsuki/reader are friends w/ benefits, they are not officially dating, pro hero!katsuki, hickies/bruises/mentions of burn marks, swearing, orgasm denial, inappropriate quirk usage, katsuki’s bad at feelings, katsuki is unreasonably jealous, erm.. light?? blood kink, it’s soft at the end though, happy kinktober everyone GENRE: SMUT & FLUFF SUMMARY: katsuki doesn’t approve of the way shouto was looking at you—even though you’re both single and he has no real claim over you. WORD COUNT: 2.7K 🦊’s A/N: i can’t believe i’m the opening act but here we are; i rlly hope you guys enjoy what we have lined up for y’all :3

     katsuki bakugou is mean and rude, possessive and somewhat controlling, and an arrogant bitch. whatever he wanted, he got; whenever something was his, everybody would be sure to know it. this, of course, translated a little too naturally into his sex life. 

     and when it came to you? god have mercy.

     “shit–! katsuki!” you whine as he bites cruelly at the tender skin of your inner thighs before sucking over the spot, making sure his teeth grazed over the sensitive, heated flesh. 

     “huh?” though on the quieter side, his voice was just as gruff as it always was. 

     “please—!” is all you’re able to breath out as the large, calloused hands forcing your legs apart begin to spark, and—ow! fuck! “katsu! what the fuck is wrong with you!?” 

     “tch, like you don’t know,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. surely you were just playing dumb. there was no way you didn’t know what the fucking problem was. he thinks back to your little conversation with shouto earlier—where that icyhot bastard practically eyefucked you the entire time (he had not, actually; it was just katsuki’s awful, Awful jealousy and insecurities flaring up despite you two not even being an item). 

     all you knew, though, was that he had been like this all damn night! biting you all over your flushed body — absolutely nowhere was safe from his teeth; your neck and throat, chest and midriff—hell, he even managed to leave hickies along your ribcage for christ’s sake!—and now, he was working on your thighs. 

     but if all that wasn’t already enough, his hands had occupied your hips most of the time as his quirk popped off repeatedly as his grip only tightened, not only leaving bruises in the shape of his fingertips, but also scorch marks on the flares of your hips. 

     “i don’t!” you protest in vain. in your mind, your conversation with shouto hadn’t crossed your mind—so the idea that katuski might be jealous? didn’t even register. 

     “yeah, right,” he barks out a laugh before diving back between your legs, burying his face into the fat of your thighs, where he sucked at the horribly sensitive skin there. and when you tried to close your legs around his head? he used his fucking quirk to keep them spread!

     his sweaty palms had no problem with igniting small scale explosions against your heated and tender flesh, leaving behind little burn marks in their wake.

     “god—dammit, katsuki!” you wail as his mouth gets dangerously close to your cunt, just to avoid it all together. “please—just! what's wrong?!” it's all you can do to choke back frustrated tears as your fuck buddy goes about leaving his physical claim on you—while leaving you all hot and bothered in the process. 

     “nothing's wrong, bitch—” his voice is strained and he sounds…… almost emotional? oh shit, was something seriously the matter? 

     in attempt to check up on him, one of your hands comes up to tug lightly at his spiky hair so he’ll look at you, but instead, he snatches your wrist up tightly, so hard you swear there’ll be bruises soon, as he looks up at you with narrowed, fiery eyes—they seemed…. glossier than they typically were; not that he looked like he was on the verge of tears or anything, but more so that he looked visibly distraught. 

     “keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” he spits out, his significantly larger hand sparking and popping around your poor wrist, and you can’t help but let out a yelp. 

     your faux concern was starting to piss katsuki off, and he physically can’t help the way his brows twitch and furrow in anger. there was no way you were really this dumb? (hey, einstein, maybe just, and here's an idea: tell them directly!) with a snarl, he bares his teeth (like a goddamn dog) and bites down harshly against the skin of your upper inner thigh, and he only bites down harder when you squeal and yell out his name, trying to free your wrist from his bruisingly tight grip. 

     in a desperate attempt to get him to calm down, you meekly choke out an apology—you didn’t know what you were sorry for, but you prayed it would be enough for bakugou to quit seething and just focus on something other than his anger.

     “‘ll show you sorry,” he grunts, picking a new spot on the fatty flesh of your thighs to bite down on—this time, a few tears manage to slide down your cheeks as he bites so hard, you swear to god you felt the skin tear. 

     “ow–! katsu–ki! jesus christ!” your free hand now comes down to try and push his head away from in between your legs as you squirm uncomfortably on the bed. your efforts are in vain, however, as he begins sucking against the freshly marred skin, sloppily laving his tongue over the spot so he could lick up the blood he had, in fact, drawn. “‘m sorry—whatever i did, i'm sorry!” you cry out pathetically, causing katsuki to pause in his actions as his eyes flit upwards to meet your glassy ones.

     “that's funny, you don't look very sorry,” he comments gruffly, the hand still placed on your thigh suddenly begins to pop off and spark against your reddened flesh.

     “nngh–! fuck’s sake! what has gotten into you!?”  

     “nothing, i told you already,” he grunts out, the corner of his lips twitching in annoyance as he looks up at you, and suddenly humping the mattress while he lays between your thighs isn’t enough for him. 

     before you have time to question him again, he had already moved so he was hovering over you as he had been at the beginning of your little rendezvous, and after releasing your wrist, he uses one hand to support himself while the other tugs his all too tight boxer briefs down enough for his almost painfully hard cock to spring free. and in one swift movement, he gathers both your wrists in one large hand before pinning them above your head while his free hand grabs his dick to line it up with your embarrassingly wet slit, barely getting the tip in before he just has to bottom out entirely—right up to the base as he lets out a groan louder than he’d meant to. it wasn’t like it was his fault, though! you just felt soooo good; how was he supposed to keep his cool? (not that he kept it in any other aspect of his life……)

     “aa–aah! nngh–! fuck! katsuki! you—mmfgh!” your words are cut off by a kiss, however, and your eyes widen at the sudden feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours and your wrists struggle in his horribly tight grip, unsure of how to react — you had both agreed on no kissing when originally setting up boundaries during sex! truthfully, you didn’t think it would have lasted as long as it had — as you had almost kissed him several times prior, but always caught yourself before you had the chance to make a fool out of yourself — but you never would have thought katsuki would be the one to break that rule! ?!?!

     arching your back as he begins to thrust his hips, slowly at first, before quickly picking up the pace, you reluctantly give in to the kiss as your chest presses against his. 

     katsuki, meanwhile, was buzzing with too many unfamiliar emotions to process — it wasn’t that he was a simple man per se, far from it, in fact, but his primary emotion was anger, and was one of the few ways he knew how to express himself. now, though, he finds himself in highly unfamiliar territory as his heart hammers in his chest; the last time he had been this genuinely scared was the time he had been kidnapped by the league of villains, and even then, he thinks he prefers it to the way he felt right now. the fear of rejection absolutely plagued his mind the moment his lips had crashed against yours, but it was way too fuckin’ late to change that now, so instead, he doubles down and allows his tongue to slip out and slide over the seam of your lips before he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and nips at it hard enough to draw the smallest bit of blood. 

     “nngh–!” you had no clue what the hell was wrong with katsuki until he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss and, for the first time in. …? as long as you can recall, he looks so…… vulnerable, like he was scared (and he was!), and for some reason, that just broke your heart.

    “just talk to me, katsuki,” you say softly, tongue flicking over your slightly bloody lip as you look up at him through thick, tear-dampened eyelashes. before you two were fuck buddies, you had managed to become good friends; given, the dynamic was a bit odd, as bakugou was not known for being a “friendly” person, let alone perceived as sociable, but. here he was! balls deep in his best friend, whom he wanted all to himself without even realizing until, well, just now, really.

     “i don’t want you talking to that icyhot bastard ever again,” he finally spits out, voice nearly cracking. he keeps his shit together, though, as he continues to fuck you like he hates your guts. “you’re mine, got it?” his cheeks are flushed red (a rare sight) as he pants heavily from on top of you, embarrassed by his own words, even though you obviously needed to hear them in order to remember who you belong to. …even though the two of you never disclosed the other couldn’t fuck anyone else; even though you were fully free to decide who you wanted to suck, lick, n fuck, katsuki hopes—silently prays, even—that you’d decide he was the only one you needed. 

     “what?” your eyes fly open at his words and your body freezes beneath him. “ka–katsuki, ‘m not yours—” he feels his heart shatter into a million pieces before you’re even done speaking, and he has to bite his tongue from lashing out. “we’re not even dating! y–you can’t be possessive over s–somethin’ that’s not— not even yours!” you try to reprimand him until you see the look that came over his face—the way his pouty lips tug into a deep frown and brows furrowed lightly, not out of anger but, rather, confusion—and suddenly you can’t bring yourself to scold him anymore. seeing katsuki, someone usually so outwardly hardened and tough, look this pitiful….. well, it made your heart ache, and your own expression softens as his pace subconsciously slows down as he waits with bated breath until you’re done talking.

     “oh, katsuki,” you sigh deeply, rolling your hips gently upwards to meet his as you look up at him with watery eyes. “you’re such an idiot,” you can’t help but giggle as you crane your head upwards in an attempt to kiss him once again — what the unfortunate blond hadn’t realized is that you had been in love with him within the first year of knowing him. 

     “huh?!” is his immediate response before you had leaned in for a kiss, and suddenly the dots click. he easily closes the distance between the two of you (not that there was much to begin with), and kisses you a little more softly this time, a little less angrily. 

     after a very heated moment, katsuki slowly pulls away and looks at you sincerely — his heart not quite on his sleeve, but as close to that as he’s ever been, ready to shut down at the first sight of genuine rejection; but before he gets the chance to stew on the thought any harder, you break him out of his headspace by saying exactly what he needed to hear.

     “there’s nothing going on between shouto and i—in fact, i haven’t even dated anyone in years because of you,” you tell him, wrists straining against his grip again and, this time, he gets the cue and gently releases them so you can tenderly cup his face and bring him in for another kiss. carefully moving your lips against his, you moan softly, asking for him to start fucking you again, and he happily obliges, with a renewed confidence at your admission. 

     katsuki really does feel like an idiot as his hips roll against yours, fucking you with a different kind of resolve this time.

     “‘ve been in love with you since our second year of high school,” you confess, a little quietly. it doesn’t go unheard by katsuki, however, and a smirk stretches across his face as he quirks an eyebrow up at you. you two had only started hooking up once he had gone pro and desperately needed an outlet for his stress.

     bakugou finds himself rendered speechless for once in his loud-mouthed life and he isn’t quite sure how to process your words. he believed you, mostly, but……. it was just very difficult to believe because….. well, why wouldn’t you want todoroki over him? it seems like the obvious choice, no? and yet…. here the two of you are, bodies sweaty and entwined as you both pant in attempt to catch your breaths, and you move to wrap your arms around his neck when you notice that faraway look in his eyes coming back—falling victim to his own mind once more.

     “‘m serious, kats,” you say sternly, brows furrowing as you move your sore legs to wrap around his narrow waist, crossing them at the ankle and pull his hips flush against yours. “mmh,” your heart is hammering at what you’re about to say, but you’ve already come this far. “i love you, katsuki bakugou,” you say softly, threading your fingers through his unnaturally spiky blond locks as you look up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes.

     katsuki’s eyes widen considerably at your words, and instead of bringing himself to choke out an i love you too, he kisses you deeply and shallowly thrusts his hips against yours as his tongue easily slides into your already parted lips, already having prepared yourself to not receive a verbal answer from katsuki. you knew he was absolutely god fucking awful at words, and you didn’t exactly expect him to reciprocate your feelings.

     in your mind, he only picked you as his fuck buddy because he had known you too long and he wasn’t the type to fuck strangers, when in reality it was because katsuki was disgustingly in love with you, not that he had realized that prior to now—your words had awoken something in him and it feels so unfamiliar, and the unfamiliarity is what causes him to almost fumble you—almost, he has enough sense about him to mumble the quietest, raspiest, aggressive i guess i love…. he chokes on the word itself, never actually having had said it before—ever?—but manages to spit it the fuck out so he doesn’t lose the best friend—and pussy—he’s ever had. he sounds confused when he says finally manages to say an i love you, too but the fact that he even brought himself to say something so inherently soft and vulnerable (even if his tone wasn’t) cause your eyes to fly open in raw shock and disbelief, fully unable to believe your ears. 

     “you—you do?” no. there was no way he had just said that!

     “don’t make a big deal out of it, and don’t expect to f'me to say it again anytime soon, y’hear?” he replies, face beet fuckin’ red, blush having spread all the way up to his ears as he moves to bury his face in the crook of your neck to hide it away from your view, where he began to nip and suck at the skin there again, only adding to the collection of hickies he had already left. ah, there’s the katsuki you fell in love with.

     you smile at his words regardless of how gruff he sounded about it, heart (and cunt) so, so full and content, your grin stretching across your face until your cheeks hurt, and you can’t help but giggle quietly as he continues to mark you up, hips moving slowly, but each thrust hitting deep, the thick tip of his dick threatening to kiss up against your cervix if he went any deeper. 

     you would have to have a discussion with him about what you two were after this, but for now, you arch your back and close your eyes as you enjoy the feel of his lips against your skin and the way his thick cock stretches you out so deliciously.

return to KINKTOBER | K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

[starkeysprincess]

you and drew are friends but also more than just friends someone recorded them making out at a bar the vid made its rounds on social media

pairing: drew starkey x reader

warnings: none

Everyone knew you and Drew were friends, the two of you became close after having to work together for months for a film you starred in. After the movie released, the two of you were often spotted together. The handful of interviews have shown the world just how compatible both of you were and fans loved your friendship.

What people didn’t see behind the cameras was how flirty you were with one another. Your relationship teetered on the verge of friends and more than friends. It didn’t help that both of you loved physical touch, everyone that knew you and Drew could see how touchy both of you were with each other.

Mutual friends have witnessed and experienced that you and Drew always had to be touching each other, whether it was your legs brushing against each others, hands barely grazing together or hugging. It was obvious to close friends and family that the two of you were on the verge of being more than friends.

You and Drew got together and hung out as much as possible so it was no surprise that the two of you were spotted having dinner together at a bar.

The night had been going great for both of you. It was filled with nothing but flirtatious comments and laughter. The amount of times you had to grab onto him, almost on the verge of tears from laughing so much was too many to count.

“Okay, stop making me laugh so much because my face is starting to hurt” you giggle lightly, catching your breath as you wipe the single tear from under your eye. “You have a contagious laugh, I can’t help it” he chuckles, moving his hand towards your face, thumb lightly tapping at your tear to ensure he doesn’t mess up your makeup.

“Thank you” you smile, “You have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen” he grinned, his fingers moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything about you is pretty” he whispered, his hand gently cupping the side of your face and you look away from him as you can feel the heat creeping up onto your cheeks.

It wasn’t until your eyes shifted to look back at him when you realized just how close his face was to yours. His eyes flicker down to look at your lips before looking back into your eyes while you do the same. He leans forward, your lips inches apart, “I really want to kiss you” he mutters, his thumb stroking your cheek softly as he looks at your lips again.

All it took was the words, “I’m not stopping you” to slip out of your mouth for him to close the gap between the two of you, his lips capturing yours. Your lips move against his, manicured nails cupping the back of his neck while his hand cradles your face pulling you closer into him. It felt like time stopped the longer he kissed you.

You and Drew were too entranced with one another to notice someone recording. As soon as the video was posted, it circled around online. By the next morning, gossip magazines were all over it and the video was everywhere, leaving fans surprised.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @sturnioloshacker @heartsforvin @hallecarey1 @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafecameroninterlude @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @starkeyisthelastname @drudyslut @slumnit @rafescurtainbangz @nemesyaaa @shawtycoreee @annoyingassleo @kisstaya @ijustwanttoreadlols @stoned-writer @rafedrewandjjs

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (2) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 1 | masterlist | word count: 1803

summary: Jenni promised reader's daughter Mila to come to her first football match, can she keep her promise despite being away with the Spanish national team.

author's note: dear readers, you asked for a part 2 and here it's, please enjoy. Let us know your thoughts on the oneshot.💜🖤

“But you promised to come…”, Mila whined through the phone, her voice on the verge of cracking. The disappointment in the little girls voice weighed heavy on Jennis heart.

She winced as she replied: “I know, I know.”

“It’s my first important game…”, Mila complained.

Jenni sighed. She was the one who had helped Mila find a football team in her age class, the one who had bought her first pair of cleats and also the one who had promised her support for her first game. Only, she had forgotten that she would be away with the national team at the time of Milas first game.

“I'll find a way to be there, Mila.”, Jenni promised determinedly. She didn’t know how yet but there was no way she would disappoint her.

Mila seemed a bit more calm at the end of their call but at the same time the conversation had attracted the interest of Jennis spanish team mates.

“Mila has a game?”, Alexia asked, her eyebrows moved towards her hairline with curiosity.

Jenni threw her phone on her hotelbed with frustration: “Yes, it’s her first one. She asked me to come weeks ago.”

Irene who leaned in the doorframe smiled to herself: “Do you all remember your first games?”

“Who doesn’t?”, Alexia replied with a grin.

“We all do.”, Jenni agreed. She knew from experience how formative first games could be.

Aitana stood there, frowning at Jenni like her brain was working at full speed: “But how do you get to her game when you’re here with us right now?”

The hotelroom went quiet as everyone seemed to search for a solution to help Jenni out.

“Easy, fake an injury.”, Mariona blurted out.

Four pairs of eyes stared at her. The disbelief about her suggestion was palpable inside the room.

Jennis face suddenly lit up as she got up from her bed: “During training later? Mario, you’re a genius!”

Excitedly, the darkhaired player pressed a grateful kiss to Marionas cheek and picked her up to whirl her around.

“Jenni!”, she protested, her cheeks slightly reddened.

“Sorry!”, Jenni laughed and finally let Mariona back down.

“Don’t tell anyone that I had anything to do with it.”, Mariona pleaded.

Jenni winked at her nonchalantly: “Oh, don’t worry, Darling. I’d not tell a soul.”

“Good.”

A few hours later, Jenni went down just as planned during a training drill. She held her knee and screamed in pain. The other players crowded around her, faking worried looks. Alexias eyebrows knotted together, indicating that Jenni was definitely overdoing it.

“Jennifer? Are you alright?”, their coach asked, crouching down to Jenni.

“No.”, the football player moaned.

“The physio should take a look at it.”, Alexia interrupted, trying to steer the conversation into the right direction.

Jenni nodded quickly: “Yes, just to be sure. That really didn’t feel good.”

“Okay.”, Montse agreed as she watched her get up and limp off towards the physios.

A short time later, the physiotherapist Pilar realised with a sour face. “You’re fine, Jennifer.”

 “Listen I know I’m fine but there’s a game tonight I’ve to attend. It’s a little girl’s first football match.”, Jenni pleaded.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You want me to lie and say it’s bad enough that you’ve to leave?”

“Not to leave necessarily only to take a break until tomorrow. Please.”, Jenni looked at her with big eyes.

“Excuse me, you want me to compromise my integrity.”, Pilar protested.

“It’s for a good cause.”, the striker gave her the most charming smile in the hope it would work on the physio like it did on all the women before. Nowadays, the specific grin was usually reserved for Mila and you. But this was an emergency.

“You owe me, Hermoso.”, she warned her.

“I know, you can count on me.”, Jenni reassured the physio.

“Go.”, Pilar replied in an impatient tone.

“Thank you!”, the football player promptly jumped off the lounger throwing kisses at her.

“Ugh.”, the physio waved it off, pretending to be disgusted by it.

In awe you watched your daughter warm up with the teammates who became her friends. Mila and you were heartbroken that your friend hadn't come yet despite her promise, which she was supposedly so keen to keep.

The referee started the game that’s why you didn’t hear the person coming who put her arms around your waist with a cheeky smile on her lips. A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you turned around to see who dared to touch you like that.

“Jenni?!”, you exclaimed surprised, glancing at the face you came to love so much over the past year.

“Hey.”, the Spanish woman greeted you grinning.

“You really made it to the game.”, you whispered deeply impressed by her dedication.

“I told you I’d. I never break a promise.”, Jenni answered in a serious tone.

“True, it’s been twelve months, and you never ran away.”, you noted.

“Can’t believe you still think I would.”, she remarked hurt.

“No, I trust you.”, you disagreed whole-heartedly, cupping her cheeks with your hands before exchanging a gentle kiss with the striker. For one moment the pitch and the game faded into the background.

“I think I deserve that trust by now.”, Jenni stated earnestly, pressing a kiss to your hand before releasing you fully.

“You do.”, you responded. Both of you followed the game proudly. The Spanish national team player was the one who cheered and supported the girls the loudest.

A bright smile lit up Mila’s face during a short break once she realized that Jenni did came to the game to see her play. Shily your daughter waved at her which the striker returned with her hands formed to a heart. When the game was on again Mila even scored her first goal.

“There she comes! Hi Mila.”, Jenni kneed down to hug the small girl after the match officially ended.

Milas face split into a big grin once she spotted Jenni standing next to you. She immediately broke into a run and jumped into Jennis arms. “Jenni, you made it!“

“Of course I did. I promised you.“, Jenni laughed as she spun the little girl around before setting her back down on the grass.

Mila cocked her head: “Have you seen me play? You looked distracted by looking at Mami.“

You failed at stifling your laughter while your girlfriend replied: “Hey! Of course I watched you play.“

“Uhu, sure.“, Mila nodded, her little face filled with sass.

Jenni raised her eyebrow at her with a grin: “Excuse me? I came all the way from my national team camp to watch you play.“

The tiny football players’ eyes widened in awe: “How did you do that?“

“Magic.“, Jenni explained, waving her hands through the air as if she was casting some spells.

“Wow.“

“All for you.“, she winked at your daughter.

“Thank you, Jenni.“, Mila beamed and pressed yourself against the football player for another hug.

Jenni kneeled down to her: “You did so well today. Were you nervous?“

Mila nodded hesitantly: “Yes but Mami said she believes in me.“

“We both believed in you. Don’t worry, the nervousness gets better after a few games.“

“It does? Also, told coach that you’re a good coach too.“, Mila said and pointed in the direction of woman your age who watched you with raised eyebrows.

You shot her a smile while Jenni laughed: “Oh god.“

“She didn’t like to hear that.“, Mila confirmed what you both could read from the face of her coach already.

Jenni bit her lip to stop herself from laughing: “I bet so.“

“Mila, are you hungry?“, you quickly changed the topic, impatient to leave the football pitch and the watchful eyes of the youth coach.

“Yes!“

You turned to your girlfriend: “What about you, Jenni?“

“I think I have time to take my girls out for food.“, she winked.

“Perfect.“, you smiled.

Jenni held out her hand for Mila. You took the other hand of your daughter. “Let’s go.“

“Please, I’m starving.“, Mila complained which caused all three of you to break into laughter again.

Jenni ruffled through the young girls hair: “Don’t worry, you will get some food to fuel your body after such a long game.“

You found yourself at a restaurant shortly after. Mila was busy digging into her chicken tenders and you watched Jenni pick at her salad.

But there was something that your girlfriend had said earlier that you couldn’t get out of your head. You leaned forward, your chin resting on your hand and watched Jenni curiously: “So… how did you get out of the Spain camp?“

Chewing on a tomato, Jenni shook her head: “Can’t tell you that.“

“It’s top secret, huh?”, you smirked.

“Yes, it’s between me, the girls and our physio.”, she winked conspiratorially.

The small comment of the striker sparked Mila’s curiosity as well. “Was it dangerous?”

“A little bit.”, Jenni admitted sounding amused.

“Woah, that’s so cool.”, your daughter marvelled.

“Mila!”, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly.

“But mami you must admit it’s true.”, Mila defended herself.

Swiftly you changed the topic, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. “When do you have to go back?”

“Tonight, but I can take Mila to bed before that.”, Jenni answered smiling.

“Really?”, your child asked beaming with delight.

“Really.”, the footballer confirmed mirroring her excitement.

“Good.”, Mila nodded satisfied.

The dinner with three had gone by in a blink.

In an animated tone Jenni read out loud to your daughter in the child’s bedroom. It was a story for boys and girls featuring the life story of Marta. In between you could hear Mila’s lively comments she exchanged with your girlfriend until there was only the silence of the night.

“She’s sleeping?”, you questioned as Jenni closed the door behind her.

“Yes.”, she affirmed calmly.

“Wonderful.”, you muttered gleefully. Eye to eye, you noticed a desire and lust in the way the striker looked at you. A blush crept upon your cheeks feeling the intensity of her stare. “What? Why are looking at me like that Jennifer?”

“No reason?”, she murmured innocently.

“No, tell me.”, you demanded in the knowledge that your lover was lying.  

“Well, I’ve some more time before I’ve to leave.”, she began mischievously.  

“You mean long enough to..?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t waste more time don’t you agree?”, you glanced at her expectantly.

With a playful expression Jenni took your hand to guide you to your shared bedroom, leaving no doubt that she was fully in line with what just passed your lips.

Everything started with a promise and ended with another one.

After you two made love together Jenni promised that you three would be a forever thing. Something like the three musketeers against a man’s world which despite all it’s harshness would never get you down.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[literaryrot]

The state of my house is extremely overstimulating right now but so is attempting to do literally anything ab it and I kind of want to explode

[1980shorrorfilm]

pain breaks the rhythm

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!vampire!reader

in which…ellie wants you to bite her out of curiosity. or something more.

before you read…18+. no smut; vampirism is just sexual. blood drinking.

nirvana plays lowly in ellie’s dorm, her warm fairy lights mixed with orange halloween ones, on the verge of falling due to how lazily she placed them.

they cast a warm glow in the small space, and over the few scattered books on her bed. they lay in between you, along with some notes, both of you sitting in silence as your brains are completely fried from studying at this point.

ellie hasn’t even spoken in five minutes, and knowing her, that means her mind is either empty or on overdrive. she keeps looking at you, as you keep looking at your phone, awaiting a message from whatever girl replies first.

your appetite is growing by the minute, and you can feel it. it causes your head to hurt, and your fingers to fidget, tapping them on your thigh as you attempt to focus on the opened textbook before you.

your little secret wasn’t a secret to ellie. you had trusted her with it, because you trust her with your entire life. she had found the whole thing fascinating, like something out of the many comic books she grew up reading.

except, this is reality, and it’s not as pretty as those colorful pages make it out to be. you’re not a murderer, you don’t have it in you. you’ll stalk the alleys of jackson for rats when desperate, and butter up pretty girls who think your bite is just that— a bite.

a painful yet sensational feeling that makes them want more, and why you rely on them in moments like these.

and for some reason, none of them want to fucking reply to you tonight. it feels like torture, and ellie almost feels bad watching you grow anxious— but she also doesn’t. you and another girl…it makes her want to throw up.

she’s not caught up with her lore, but a kiss from a vampire is equivalent to a proposal to her. and no one, other than her, deserves that from you. she tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, heart jumping out of its chest when she finally speaks, “i’m curious.”

“hm?” you hum, glancing at your phone again, going over your irrelevant notifications to see if you missed anything. “what it feels like…you know…”

you look up at her, “what?”

“a bite…what it feels like,” she says shamefully; as if she’s admitting the most taboo thing ever. maybe because she had imagined it, seeing you at a corner of a party, head snuggled comfortably in a blonde woman’s neck, everyone else distracted by the blaring music and bumping bodies while she was stunned like a deer in headlights.

how she wasn’t disturbed, she was so far from. she thought about it being her, and letting you take what you wanted, not just what you needed. she could be your personal buffet, she would do that for you in a heartbeat. ellie could satisfy you. no one else, just her.

but, you laugh at her words, as if she told you a joke. ellie did have a habit of shitty vampire jokes and puns, often made in group settings because she thinks it is hilarious to have such an inside joke. she grabs your complete attention, “i’m serious.”

the smile you wore, leaves your face, understanding what she was trying to imply without asking. something off the table, absolutely forbidden.

“no…no, ellie,” you tell her, the rejection like a stake to the heart. there was absolutely nothing more in this universe you’d want more than to taste her, just the idea of it makes your heart beat even faster, shaking your head as though it would rid the enticing picture. you’re hungry enough as is.

“why?”

“because ellie.”

“you can do it to anyone else but not me?”

her question is more of a salty remark, causing you to glare at her, ellie now quickly swallowing whatever other comment she already had prepared. she doesn’t get it, she really doesn’t, and you cannot explain it to her.

how drinking from other people is a necessity, like eating food to her. how you have absolutely no emotional attachment to them, and you don’t crave any more than you’re given.

and with her, someone you love deeply, you could drain her completely. which isn’t an overstatement. you’ve watched the blood run along her veins on more than one occasion, how thick and sweet it is.

you can taste it on your tongue without having a single drop if it…how good it would taste running down your throat. you would get drunk off of her.

“it’s not that simple…you’re…you,” you scratch the back of your neck, confusion crossing her pretty features at the statement. “i’m me?”

“yeah…god, ellie, can we drop it?”

you don’t mean to sound so frustrated, but you are. ellie isn’t aware of the weight of her words, how her desire isn’t just hers. you share it, you want her. you want to quite literally devour her.

your phone vibrates, ellie trying to read the notification, someone asking to meet up with a stupid wink face. a sigh leaves her lips, sinking into her bed, redirecting her gaze to the book in her lap.

“see you tomorrow?” she quietly says, assuming you’re ready to go have dinner. and you should, you know you should, but you remain seated on her bed.

“it’s…hard…when it’s someone close to you,” you try to explain, “and i could hurt you.”

she’s sat up straight again, green eyes boring into you. “could isn’t a for sure thing,” ellie says, “i could get hit by a car tomorrow.”

“that’s not— you don’t get it.”

“i do,” she groans, tossing her head back, huffing, then looking back at you, “…i…trust you.”

the contemplation rests on your face, ellie noticing, her determination still adamant. she reaches for your hand, grabs it, and faintly leans forward.

“you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

the cool air thickens with tension as you consider her request, listening to how hard her heartbeat thuds. it compels you, along with the unwavering gaze of her green irises, luring you into her. she adds, “it’ll be a win-win.”

ellie is right. you think you could attack the first person you’d see when you leave her room, suck them until the light leaves their eyes— mouth salivating thinking about it. you’re practically starving, or so feel that way, and ellie could easily relieve you.

“okay.”

you expect a shit-eating grin on her face, the mischief glint in her eyes whenever you give her what she wants. and this was practically giving her the greatest gift on earth, yet her mouth drops ajar and she looks shocked, even nervous.

“really?”

“yeah…if that’s what you want.”

“yeah— yeah,” she responds almost too quickly, but she has already shown her desperation for you.

you push away everything in between you two, getting close enough to where you’re nearly in her lap.

“it’ll hurt.”

“i can take it.”

you watch the low spoken words leave her mouth, the suggestive tone combined with her hand squeezing yours, abruptly taking the air from you. for a moment, you find yourself more attracted to her lips, than her neck.

a very brief moment, because you’re swiftly distracted by the pumping of her jugular, the veins screaming at you.

you steady yourself, “ready?”

ellie nods, and with that, she lets your gentle hand cradle one side of her jaw, tilting it upward. her breathing hitches while you move in closer, fangs grazing the soft skin of her neck.

the heat radiating from her pulse sends shivers throughout your entire body, carnal desire growing stronger each millisecond that passes. along came restraint, slowly sinking your canine teeth in the side of her neck, afraid of actually hurting her.

she gasps immediately, guilt hitting you at the noise. maybe you should pull back. maybe you should stop, and apologize to her for even agreeing to this.

but the moment her smooth blood runs down your tongue, your delicate pressure turns into something feverish, electrifying. you crave more.

you bite harder, sucking the crimson from her body with your eyes fluttering to the back of your head, your worries about the ordeal fading into oblivion. ellie tastes even better than your fantasies, like the ripest fruit in the orchard, so fucking rich.

she is unlike anyone else— you mean that in every way, but the taste of her might just drive you mad. the way her blood rushes into your lungs, she fills you up just right.

when she whimpers, you moan, continuing to feast on her, the warm liquid is like ecstasy. ellie is gripping the sheets beneath her, the pain she feels is euphoric. addicting. damn perfect.

you’re driving her to an edge she’s never been before, in between life and death, a high that makes her body feel lightweight and her mind empty. the only thing she can think about is you, and your fangs inside of her, her life being in your hands as she gives you life.

for ellie, it is the best feeling in the fucking world.

she truthfully believes you could gnaw on her flesh until it was raw, and she would welcome the burning sensation with wide open, and loving, arms. she falls back, onto her pillows, your lips not leaving her for a single second.

“fu…” ellie murmurs, unable to finish the word, mind suddenly blanking.

on top of her, you can feel ellie shuddering beneath you; this is it.

for a moment, everything fades away. her warmth, her pulse, and the world surrounding you. you listen to her whimper once more, the color leaving all of her features, going pale.

your indulgence comes to an end, divorcing yourself from the crook of her neck, scanning her face out of worry you had gone too far.

she’s exhausted, breathless, fluttering her eyes at you. her pupils are blown, looking at you with pure admiration, as if you’re an angel hovering before her. then, she smiles faintly at you. and how beautiful she looks so drained underneath you.

you bring a hand to her face, thumb stroking her freckled cheek gently, “still with me?”

“mhm,” she hums, and you give her a moment to collect herself. you await for her heart rate to return to normal, for her temperature to rise, hand traveling down to her neck in the meantime.

softly, you touch the puncture wound, a strange feeling of pride at the mark. not wanting to heal it, and not wanting ellie to cover it up. it’ll remain a happy reminder of tonight.

when ellie’s pupils are no longer fuzzy, she takes in the view before her, her blood coating your face, on your mouth, on your chin. sinful thoughts run through her head, it makes her feel wrong— perverse —but with how tantalizing you look, she doesn’t care.

ellie almost wants to take a polaroid, and keep it locked away safely in her underwear drawer, afraid this won’t happen again.

she reaches for your face, thumb swiping the stray trail of crimson on your chin. you think she’s cleaning herself off of you, but she has different intentions.

after experiencing such an intimate moment with you, ellie feels bold, and she keeps it going, daring to brush her thumb against your lips— giving you a very clear signal, and order.

one that you accept, mouth opening slightly. her finger slips in, and your tongue curls around it.

ellie’s teeth dig into her bottom lip while you suck the blood off of her thumb, your eyes shut in bliss at the mere taste of her. you wouldn’t waste a single drop.

ellie is hypnotized by you, by the way you bring your hands to her forearm, holding her tightly in place until you are finished. and when you are, you glance back down at her, noticing how flustered she is by the pink hues of her cheek.

you can’t help but laugh, and she gulps, realizing she’s been caught in her trance. it’s cute.

the sudden confidence she had is now fleeting as you crawl off of her, ellie searching for the right thing to say. unfortunately for her, the only words that want to come out are ‘i love you,’ as if you had just taken her fucking virginity.

she decides to keep her mouth shut, lying there dazed.

ellie would happily die to you, if this was the death you’d give her.

[princessbrunette]

I’m crying cause imagine she sees him in public after he posts the lyrics and he’s trynna talk to her and she’s like all out of it like “☹️☹️” and he’s like “Kid, what’s wrong?” And she’s like “who were you talking about when u posted that?” I know he’d be embarrassed too cause not him posting it for her nd she doesn’t even understand

the way it would be s1!rafe and bunny from this timeline <3333

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

he follows the sound of kitten heels clacking obnoxiously along the marble of the country club, heading toward the exit. rafe breaks into a light jog to catch up, appearing at your side to witness your pouty expression.

“hey— woahwoahwoah where you going? hm?” he tests the waters with a hand on your lower back. usually you preen to his attention and touch, but seeing you head for the exit as soon as the boy arrived has him wondering what was wrong.

“just can’t be around you right now, rafe.” you mewl like you’re on the verge of tears, shrugging as you continue your exit.

“wh—why?” he takes a hold of your arm, gently — but firm enough to stop you in your tracks and turn you towards him. your bottom lip wobbles, eyes glassy and your left leg wobbles like you’re threatening to thump your foot.

“because i’m not the only girl! i thought you liked me, but you’re posting all this stuff on your instagram n—n i’m not an idiot rafe. know everyone thinks i am but i’m not. jus’ dont wanna get played by you—” you go to walk away but he holds you still, tilting his head.

“what stuff? fuck are you talking about kid?” he looks genuinely perplexed, eyes squinted and all — which makes you soften your demeanor only slightly.

“you… were posting lyrics n’stuff… all this freaky stuff about what you wanna do with her…” it sounds dumb and petty when it leaves your mouth and you know that, which is why it leaves your mouth so quietly. he stares for a moment, only confirming how you felt and as you turn away from him his hand gets a hold of your cheeks, squishing them lightly in his hand as he forces you to look at him.

“jesus, that was about you. who the hell else do you see me talking to…huh?” he explains firmly and you blink, realisation setting in.

“oh.” your nose twitches, still upset. the eldest cameron backs up, scratching his cheek a little over the whole thing before spreading his arms in gesture for you to follow him.

“yeah, and if you’re done with your little tantrum i’d like you to come back into the club with me, so we can talk.”

as embarrassed about the whole thing as you were, you feel your cheeks push up into a smile — under rafes spell and never passing up an opportunity to talk with him.

“m’kay!” you chime, sniffing back the residual tears that never fell and joining him at his side. the boy throws an arm around your shoulders, shaking his head.

“n’don’t go assuming shit again, alright? ask.”

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

[superstarcherrycolagirl]

taken care of

benny cross x fem!reader/ 1k words

idea: your leaving work, but you’re being bothered. luckily you have company

tw: harassment, swearing, threats

notes: ok so this has been an idea of mine for A WHILE so i tried writing it out. think of that scene from the bikeriders after benny ended up in the hospital after literally getting clocked and the whole squad pulled up to the bar after that, it’s basically that but way more chill!! that scene was so hot ngl so i wanted to write about it:)) here it is

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

being benny’s girl doesn’t only mean gaining the mutual respect of the club and its members, but shown the same amount of care and protection as the bikers themselves.

you were just trying to leave work and go home, the 9-5 work shift literally left you exhausted, but this college boy would not leave you alone!

“can i take you for a ride sweetheart? i can take you back to mine to really get to know you” his obnoxious masculinity oozing out of him. he waited for a whole hour your shift to end, literally eye-fucking you the entire time as he kept shifting in his pants. what an animal you thought, you wanted to yell at him and humiliate him in front of other library goers so he can learn some manners. but you kept calm, you didn’t need to be scared.

“oh no thank you i’m alright! my ride’s just outside” you declined politely, which took a lot of strength for you to.

you’re walking out the door, ponytail swaying back and forth. “aw c’mon lil lady don’t be so shy! i can show you a real good ti-“ the boy couldn’t even finish his stupid sentence before stopping abruptly. the loud roar of rumbling engines sounding filled up the silent library. you’ve never seen anyone get so pale in the face.

you walk outside the door, the boy to follow, to see the fear-striking pack of bikers waiting outside the library doors.. waiting for you. you could spot wahoo, corky, and cockroach near each other, snacking on some gum and cigarettes. funny sonny was saying some shit to zipco and cal, whatever it was made them all send death glares to the shaking boy right next to you. johnny and bruice were checking out this boy, wondering if he would even stand a punch if he tried to lay a hand on you. and benny, bike stand kicked up and leaning back with a cigarette in hand, looked up right at you with nothing but love in his eyes.. and the slightest want to kill this filthy pig beside you on site.

you walk down to the club calmly, your flowy white blouse moving against your deep blue jeans, smiling sweetly at your family as you walked up to benny to peak him on the mouth. that poor boy knew he was screwed just by witnessing how all the bikeriders demeanors shifted to your presence. he was on the verge of vomiting once they looked back at him.

as you were getting on benny’s bike you took a glance up at the terrified boy, wondering why the hell he was still here. you were gonna say something to him, until you were interrupted.

“you wanna ride pretty boy? s’that what you wanted to ask?” benny said in a cocky tone, but you could hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest.

“n-no sir.. i just wanted to talk to this nice lady over her-“ that’s when you popped in quickly, but it did much more damage.

“oh so that’s why you wanted to to jump my bones a’few moments ago hm? to say somethin’ nice t’me?” you said it in your sweet tone of voice, but the adrenaline rising inside of you drenched your words in sarcasm. that caught everyone’s attention so fast, and in an instant everything became so loud.

“s’that so pretty boy?” johnny chimed in first “well you might need some help from us.. to learn how to treat a lady with real manners” his knuckle punching rings tightening tightening into a fist. “we’ll take care of ya’”

“yeah i’ll take care a’him by knocking his fuckin’ teeth down his throat!” cal yelled out, you could steam a teapot on his head from how riled up he was, he almost jumped that poor boy if it weren’t for zipco holding him back by the arm.

funny sonny loudly sounded his engine to make this boy shriek, which led some others to join in with cackles. “c’mon pinko! show us what you got, don’t be shy!” zipco chirped with a guttural laugh, increasing the blush and sweat on the embarrassed college boys’ face. that boy looked so frightened that you though he was gonna cry. ashamed. humiliated.

you could feel benny’s muscles tensing up against your chest, how he was just moments away from seconding cals’ idea. but he stayed right where you were, right where he was needed to keep you safe. everyone was there to keep you safe.

“get the fuck outta here you scum-fuck!” “don’t shit yourself on the way out pretty face!” wahoo and corky vulgarly gleamed, and that left the boy with one more glance at you, trying to send you a smile. not before benny sounded his engine roughly, a back the fuck off kind of signal that almost knocked they boy off his feet. and with that he ran down the block and turned the corner, knowing you wouldn’t see his face again anytime soon.

as everyone was gearing up while laughing, benny softly spoke to you. “you alright baby?” “i’m alright benny..thank you honey” he didn’t even need to say anything, giving the side your right thigh a good squeeze before kicking up his stick. you smiled against his back, that’s gonna need a good wash.

“you’re okay sweetheart, we’ll take care of ya’” that was johnny’s voice that rang. you and benny turned to him, relieved looks on both of your faces. “i mean it doll, always” he was firm with his, and you could only smile back at him.

and with that, you and the dozens of bikes beside you took off down the road.

what a way to call it a day.