#asking the age old question: what if those two guys kissed

[ringneckedpheasant]

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

cr: divider by @kodaswrld / gif @tomshiddles

[retroaria]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 boyfriend nagi.ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹ ࣪ ˖ another set of bf headcanons finally !! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings: this is post Blue Lock, not a high school!au

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🌵 - aria

pre-boyfriend!nagi who spends weeks, months even, questioning what exactly it is he feels for you because he just can’t wrap his head around it. doesn’t know why his heart throbs when you say his name, why his hands get sweaty when you sit close to him, why he feels the need to lie about certain things to make himself look better, why he feels the constant urge to just fall into your arms and lay there forever.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who goes to Reo for advice on the matter only to be called an idiot and have his own feelings explained to him at his big age

pre-boyfriend!nagi who now can associate those feelings with wanting a relationship with you, it’s all he thinks about. he yearns for you so bad. wants to have you in his arms, nap with you, teach you how to play games, let you cook for him (and feed him lol), introduce you to choki, show you all his cool soccer moves. it makes him really sad that he can’t just have you already, and it’s gonna be a hassle to ask you out.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who isn’t ready to ask you out but still wants to share his affections with you. He’s very touchy, always hugging you, leaning on your shoulder, brushing strands of hair out of your face so he can see your eyes. Asks you to hang out with him almost every day, even if he knows you’re gonna be busy, he still has to ask just in case you can.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who realizes that holding his feelings in is way more of a hassle than confessing so he does exactly that. He’s very straightforward about it. “Hey, I’ve liked you for a while now. Wanna go on a date?”. If you say yes he’d probably just kiss you on the spot. He hasn’t even taken you on the first date yet but in his head you guys are already dating.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who takes you to an arcade on the first date, beats you at every game, but then wins you a bunch of claw machine stuffies to make up for it.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

boyfriend!nagi who asks you to come live with him early on the relationship. He has such a straightforward mindset that he can’t wrap his head around how you guys are together but not “together”, as in together all the time (if that makes sense). He has to learn the concept of personal space in a relationship and eventually even after you guys start living together understands why he can’t cling to you every second of every day. He’ll still try sometimes and gets sad when you go off to do your own thing but gets over it once he’s preoccupied watching matches or playing games.

boyfriend!nagi who gets jealous very easily, but not in the stereotypical sense. He doesn’t get mad or aggressive when he’s jealous but he’s totally the type to deadpan you with “do you not love me anymore?” If he sees you giving anyone else more attention than him. This feeling he gets isn’t just towards guys or even people your age, it’s anyone. “Why were you talking to that old woman at the store for so long? I was right there.” “Nagi, she was ringing us up, she’s a cashier, it’s her job.” He actually has very little reaction to other guys flirting with you because he simply thinks that’s a stupid thing for them to do and is confident you’ll reject them.

boyfriend!nagi who lets you dress him up, style his hair, do his makeup for fun, would honestly let you give him a tattoo if you really wanted to. His mind doesn’t have negative preconceived notions about many things, and he thinks it’s adorable watching you have fun with him. Really likes when you do his hair just so he can feel your hands on his scalp. Same with doing his makeup, thinks both activities are relaxing and hassle free bonding moments for you two. All he has to do is sit there and look pretty.

boyfriend!nagi who mentions you unconsciously all the time. Along with football and video games, you’re a focal point of his life and you’ve become integrated in almost everything he does or thinks about. So much so that when responding to questions and such, he’ll say “we” more often than ”I”. “Nagi, did you get a chance to watch that match last week?” / “Yeah we watched it the other night.” / “There’s this new manga that just came out I think you’d be into it Nagi.” / “Oh alright, we’ll definitely check it out.”

boyfriend!nagi who drops the love bomb very early on because if he had feelings for you strong enough to even notice or care about, he’s confident it has to be love. He has different variations of “I love you”, the most commonly used ones are groggy and drawn out, “love youuuu~” or “Mhmm, love.” It’s a pet name and a confession all in one, verbal shortcuts make life easier (nagi logic 101). When he really wants you to hear it, he’ll say “I love you” in full but repeatedly. Either while he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck or following you around the house begging you to forgive him for sleeping all day instead of the chores you asked him to do.

boyfriend!nagi who wants to put more and more effort into himself and his lifestyle now that he has you. He wants to be the best he can be, give you everything you want and need, show his love for you in a million different ways. It’s so bad that he sometimes cries to himself thinking about all the ways he might mess up the relationship, he doesn’t know what he would do if you left him, he’d just feel so empty. :((

boyfriend!nagi who clings to you at every moment that he can, his heart stings at the feeling you leaving his grasp even if it’s just for a moment.

boyfriend!nagi who is absolutely whipped and unafraid to admit it. He’s so open and honest about his feelings with you because it’s a pain to not be able to tell you things. Is constantly reminding you how much he thinks about you and yearns for you. So much love with this boy <3

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m)

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut !! p in v, she/her pronouns used for reader

series master list

any minors caught interacting will be blocked and reported

a/n: don't mind me bringing this series back THREE YEARS later bc i fell back in love with matt murdock. felt right to re-publish just bc i have edited it a little bit too. enjoy!!

You fucking hated these parties. 

Sweaty lawyers, classy music, champagne that cost thousands of bucks but tasted like piss. And it was all for what? For every lawyer on the Upper East Side to have a dick measuring contest and decide who the best prosecutor was? Yeah, that sounded about right.

It would have been less insufferable if the barristers in question were younger, hotter and more prone to using antiperspirant. Sadly, they were none of those things. All well past their sell-by date. You could deal with an older man but these were just…old. Daddy issues were one thing but gran-daddy issues was where you drew the line. Much unlike the gorgeous blonde girls hooked on the arms of the eighty-plus law firm partners, flaunting the expensive rocks on their fingers and praying for the day that their husbands finally keeled over and left their estates to them. You’d always sworn not to become one of them. At least not until you were twenty-seven at most - and it wouldn’t have been hard, given that your father was the District Attorney and had every high-flying lawyer in his pocket. 

You didn’t need their money though, not when you had his. Obviously, most of it was family money - district attorneys didn’t exactly make money bags. Not much of an issue given that your family name ranked a little between the Vanderbilts and the Rockerfellers. 

So there you were, perched on the edge of some random firm’s annual mixer. You’d cracked out your mother’s vintage Chanel suit - a red-and-black checkered blazer and matching mini-skirt, finished with black platform heels and a spritz of Coco Chanel. There wasn’t a hair out of place - that was rule one of finishing school. 

“Darling, are you going to mingle at all?”

Eyes flickering up from your champagne, they locked with your father’s a few feet away. The scowl was natural. 

“What am I supposed to talk about?” you asked. “They’re all boring. And old.”

“Any man here would give you a job,” he replied. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to have one.”

“Oh father, please,” you snorted. “Your great-grandad didn’t spend years exploiting oil tycoons for billions of dollars for me to break my nails working.” 

You could have gotten any job or degree you wanted - money aside, you were smart as fuck. You’d graduated top of your class at Harvard at the mere age of 21. Two years later, however, your degree was just decoration, with you having discovered you much preferred just…existing. And spending money on clothes, bags, and whatever else you fancied that day. 

“Our ancestors worked hard-” 

“- I never said they didn’t work hard,” you cut him off. “You clearly put a lot of effort into sucking Wilson Fick’s dick.”

Shoving your glass of champagne into your father’s hand, you blew him a kiss and stalked off. 

It was that particular conversation that caught Matt Murdock’s attention. 

He stood a good few meters away from you, nursing his own glass of barely-touch bubbly and fiddling awkwardly with his tie. Foggy Nelson had dragged him there - c’mon Matty, it’s just a formality he’d said - and then duly fucked off to flirt with a stunning law clerk. What a jerk. 

Your comment had been flippant, but it was the first mention of Fisk’s name in a negative light that he’d heard all night. It was no wonder he wasn’t very popular there, given how his law firm had attacked the big guy. 

“You look bored…” you trailed off, eyes flickering down to the name tag on Matt’s lapel. “...Murdock.” 

That wasn’t why you’d come over to him. Okay, maybe it was a little but also because he was a) a stunningly attractive man in a room of viable Jabba the Hutt’s and b) his blazer was just a little too tight for his arms. He’d been meaning to get it taken out a little but man, life was just so busy at the moment. 

It took exactly five seconds for your entire being to fill his senses. Faint Coco Chanel and expensive body cream, all of which had clearly been used to mask the smell of tobacco. Expensive tobacco too. The taste of champagne lingered every so slightly on your breath, but not enough to show you’d had that much. He could read you just from that. You smelt like you - or your daddy, most likely - had money and it was clear you weren’t big on drinking. At this event, at least - because what socialite in modern day Manhattan didn’t have a drinking problem? 

It was weird how he could tell when people were staring - it was just a sense that their lingering eyes just happened to be in his direction. But even if he was in their line of sight, it was clear they weren’t looking at him. No bets that you were one of the best sights in the room. 

Matt was bored. You were bored. And that was where the entire problem began.  

The lawyer gave you a smile. “This isn’t really my scene.”

“Oh, please,” you beamed back at him. “It’s not mine either. You should be grateful you can’t see what’s going on right now - it’s like watching hundreds of Rich Uncle Pennybags drag around their discount Pamela Anderson sex dolls.”

Matt let out a derivative snort. Hell, you were funny too. 

“I very briefly remember what Pamela Anderson looks like,” he replied. “Even a discounted version of her is arguably still very beautiful, no?”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “I mean…I would.”

“I can only assume based on the way you’re speaking about these established lawyers that you’re not one of them?”

“Absolutely not,” you shot back. “I never got around to passing the bar.”

“So why are you here?”

“My old man’s the district attorney,” you replied. “And I can tell by the way your face just fell that you don’t like him.”

“I don’t not like him-”

“- it’s okay, Murdock,” you cut him off. “Rest assured, I probably hate him more than you.”

“So I’ll ask again,” he raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

“Family obligations,” you rolled your eyes. “But what I wouldn’t give to stop playing happy families and leave this godforsaken hall to drink alcohol that doesn’t taste how my Great Aunt Betty smells.”

Matt normally wouldn’t have accepted your hint, but he was so done with the night already. Daredevil aside, he hadn’t been living a very exciting life the last few weeks. Maybe it was time he did something for himself. Something younger, funnier, and prettier than the woman he would normally find in New York on a Saturday night. 

“Are you even old enough to frequent establishments that sell alcohol?”

“Oh, you’re funny,” you huffed. “Old enough by just over two years, but I can assure you I’ve been drinking much longer than that.” 

Matt smiled. “Then I might know a place.”

–

All eyes were on you the second you stepped inside Josie’s Bar. Not for the same reason they’d been on you at the last event. 

Your outfit alone probably cost more than the yearly rent of this hole. It was a nice hole, though. Nicer than you’d expected. Even if the carpet was sticky on your heels and the air thick with tobacco. At least here you wouldn’t have to hide your own smoking habits. 

“What’s your poison?” Matt asked. He kept a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the bar. Nice.  

You glanced at the bar, scanning the shelves for your choice of intoxication. 

“I’ll take a double dark rum and coke, please.” you replied - half to Matt, half to the woman behind the bar who you assumed to be Josie. 

“Diet coke?” she teased. 

“Not necessary- regular is fine,” you replied. “I assume you accept American Express platinum here? I’ll tip as well.”

Josie smiled. “Touche - and for you, Matthew?”

“I’ll take an IPA.”

You smiled, resting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I kind of liked just calling you Murdock.”

“I don’t mind if you want to keep doing that,” he replied. “That little play with the AmEx card was cute.”

“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna let her talk down to me just because I’m not…working class like everyone else in this bar.”

“How long did it take you to come up with a nice word for poor?” he teased. “Didn’t they teach you grammar in private school?”

You ran a hand down his arm, acrylic nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “You like running your mouth, don’t you, Murdock?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

Maybe this was unlike him. Actually, maybe it wasn’t unlike. In fact…it was more like him than the everyday Matt Murdock he liked to let in. It felt a little sacreligious that it was a pretty rich girl that brought it out of him - never mind that you were at least ten years younger - but hell, he’d take it. Life was short and he knew how fun the daughters of rich businessmen could be. Elektra Natchios was testament to that and was arguably much less of a good time that you were so far. 

You slid his drink towards him. “Better get drinking then, huh?”

–

You tried to outdrink Matt.

Matt tried to outdrink you. 

And that was the only explanation as to how you were still at Josie’s by final call. Neither of you were drunk - tipsy at a push - and somehow, you were both walking the line between giving the other your all and still playing hard to get. You’d learnt that Matt was a tease - no doubt a smooth talker in the courtroom - and he could easily keep up with your taunts and jabs. 

“I can’t believe we got kicked out!” 

You’d stumbled out the bar about two minutes before, arms linked with his to guide him down the street. Matt’s cane was tucked up neatly away now - he could have pretended to still use it, but the way you held onto him and led him down the street did far too much to his senses to deny himself of it. It was a mixture of expensive perfume and rum, and what felt like electricity every time your hand touched his wrist. 

“It’s called closing time,” Matt shot back. 

“In my world, that’s just a Green Day song,” you said. “You go a few blocks east of here and they’ll stay open as long as you keep paying.”

“We could go a few blocks east - or we could go one block south and go back to my place.”

You grinned. “Lead the way! Wait - oh my god. Was that really mean?”

He chuckled, grabbing your hand and leading you in the opposite direction.

Matt’s apartment was nice - high ceilings and big windows, though sparsely furnished and minimal at the same time. You followed him through to the kitchen, kicking off your heels and sliding into a bar stool beside him. He threw aside his glasses and cane, spinning around to face you.

“So, tell me,” you began. “How does a small-time lawyer like you afford a place like this?”

“I take men like your father to court,” Matt suavely replied - he reached across the counter and yanked over a bottle of scotch, popping off the lid. “Care for some?”

“Mm, Glen Mckenna,” you glanced at the label. “I’m not much of a scotch gal, Murdock. At least scotch that’s only thirty years old.”

“It’s older than you, sweetheart.”

“My age hasn’t been much of a problem the rest of the night,” you shot back. 

You unfolded your legs, ever so slightly pushing up your skirt as he did. You knew Matt couldn’t see, but some part of you knew even more that he was picking up on your signals. 

That suspicion became something of certainty when he practically threw aside everything on the kitchen counter, large hands grabbing your hips. Within a matter of seconds, as though something had snapped, he had you placed on top of the cool wood, fingers splayed into your sides and mouth just inches away from yours. 

“You’re really playing the age card, huh?” his voice was raspy; bare, green eyes dark with lust. “You know nothing.”

You gave him a grin. “So teach me.”

Matthew Murdock’s lips were on yours before you’d even finished your sentence. Not unlike his hands, they were thick and calloused, bringing a thousand senses over you at once. He was clearly an experienced kisser - and a giving one too. Worlds away from the immature frat boys you’d spent the last few years gallivanting about with. 

He was right -you did know nothing. 

But that was just it, right? Matt was older than you - ten years, fifteen at the most. You’d slept around here and there but hell, nothing had been like this. Two minutes into whatever the fuck you were about to do and Matt had you shaking, cocky demanour gone; hands tangled in his hair and cunt begging, craving for a man you’d never even had before. 

Matt’s teeth tugged on your lower lip and you knew then you’d completely lost your mind. The moan that escaped your mouth only lulled him on, hands squeezing your hips even harder and pulling you closer towards him. 

You felt it then, pressed against your lower stomach. He was hard as fuck. 

“Stop teasing,” you grumbled. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Matt hissed. 

Still, he obliged. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pulled you off the counter, carrying you over to the sofa. He held you with only one arm, free hand tangled in your hair and holding your lips on his. 

You both fell onto the couch, clothes flying everywhere. It didn’t matter how expensive your stupid vintage Chanel was then- it looked much better on his floor than it had ever had done on you. Matt’s shirt and pants followed suit, landing before yours in a crumpled pile. 

“You in some kinda fight club or something?” you paused, tangling your hand in Matt’s hair and pulling him back. Your free one followed down his torso, fingers ghosting across the pink ridges on his abs. No complaints here. 

“Less talking, sweetheart,” he brushed aside your comment. “=

“Who put you in charge?”

“Me,” his words were muffled, barely audible as he attached his lips to your neck. “You gonna do as I say?”

“Or what?”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Matt’s lips were quickly replaced by a calloused hand on your throat. He gave it a light squeeze, a wicked smile spreading across his face when your wise demeanor was suddenly gone. He pressed another kiss to your neck, then another, following up to your ear. 

“If it gets too much, you say - okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied. “I promise I can take it.”

Another kiss, this time on the lips. “Good girl.”

You let out a whimper, brain not entirely sure what to focus on as Matt’s hands went to work. He kept one on your throat, squeezing it just enough to earn a moan out of you, the other creeping up your thighs and gently slipping inside you. That caught you by surprise - how gentle he was, and yet completely the opposite at the same time. 

Matt pushed you down into the cushions, hand still gripping your throat. His fingers curled inside you - back and forth, back and forth. A steady beat that hit the right spot over and over and over. Ecstasy took over your body like a rush, senses consumed by nothing but him. 

“Matt,” you murmured. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” his voice was still gruff, holding some type of contagious venom at you for distracting him. “I’m getting plenty from this.”

And he was. He was getting everything. The quickening pace of your heart, the smell of you, the tiny moans and whimpers that escaped your mouth every time he so much as moved. It was exultation for him as well - and almost completely sinful, the way it made him feel. Not that he gave a fuck about any religious figure in that moment. The man was willing to spend an eternity repenting his sins if it meant just one night with you. 

You came quicker than you ever had with anyone - better than you ever had with anyone. It rushed over your body like a fountain of cold water, ripping from your stomach and up to your already-dysfunctional brain like the sharp drop of a rollercoaster. Falling, falling, falling, until Matt’s hands grabbed you and grounded, softly caressing your face, holding your jaw as you cried out his name. 

“You want to stop?” he gently asked. 

“No,” you sharply sat up, scowling. “Didn’t I say that I would tell you-”

“- careful with your tone, sweetheart.”

Matt grabbed you by the hips again, pulling you down into the sofa. The next few moments were unbearable in the best way - a blur of teeth on your neck, chest, stomach and thighs, barely even registering what was going on until you felt his tongue swipe over your folds. A cry escaped your mouth, still overstimulated from your last orgasm. 

“If you want something,” Matt popped his head up, shit-eating grin across his stupidly gorgeous face, “you should just say.”

“Stop fucking teasing.”

He moved back up towards you, brushing his lips against yours. “You make it so easy.”

With that, Matt placed his hands on your ass and hoisted you into his lap. He gave it one final slap before grabbing his dick and maneuvering into inside you - you couldn’t help but let out a moan of relief, dropping your head into his shoulder and gently biting his skin. 

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” he chuckled. Running a hand up your back, he dusted across your shoulder, large fingers finding place on your jaw. “Move.”

And move you did. 

It was heaven the way he felt inside you - his fingers had been one thing but this was incomparable. You didn’t give a fuck about a stranger’s neighbours at the best of times, but you had absolutely no respect in that moment for anyone belove or below (in more than one sense). You were loud and Matt fucking loved it. He couldn’t see you - couldn’t see your glazed over eyes or freshly bruised and bitten skin - but hell, you filled his other senses enough to make up for that. 

You kind of knew the minute you met that he had a big dick. It was in the way he held himself: confident, but humble. Funny, but in an unassuming way. And it hit just the right spot, repeatedly edging the same spot that his fingers had tired out just moments before. 

It went on for a few more minutes; you were completely lost in one another, brains barely able to comprehend that you’d known each other less than twelve hours. 

You didn’t need to tell Matt that you were - he knew, and rather than slowing it down so that you could revel in the last few moments, he picked up the pace; hand tightening on your throat, other squeezing your ass in a way that was sure to leave a mark in the morning.

Your second orgasm was indescribable - you opened your mouth to let out a yell and yet, it was silent. Your acrylics clawed up and down Matt’s back, digging into him in an attempt to ground yourself. That only egged him on, the sting adding to his euphoria as he came undone inside you. 

Matt laid you back down on the couch, pressing kisses to your jaw as he did. You frowned when he began shuffling about - then he produced his shirt from the floor. He maneuvered your arms so that he could pull it over your head, before reaching for a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around your middle. 

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go get you a cloth. Don’t move.”

“I’m never moving,” you softly chuckled. 

He smiled. “Good.”

[uchispeach]

Empire (Pt. 1)

Dark! Drug Lord x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Possessive and manipulative behavior, obsession, death threats, gang violence, guns & drugs, kidnapping, non-con groping & kissing, manhandling, age gap, Sheltered! Reader…

Summary: The moment Rafael Caro Quintero laid eyes on you, something inside him snapped. You weren’t meant for his world—too innocent, too untouched—but that didn’t matter. He wanted you. And when Rafa wanted something, he took it.

Oblivion could be blissful, except when the order of things is unexpectedly changed from one day to another.

Reality can give devastating hits, that’s why most people decide to hide under ignorance—to sit still until it all explodes on their faces. You were one of those people, just not willingly.

Your dad knew you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed; a sweet and gentle soul like you wouldn’t survive a day by yourself. At least, that’s what he told himself when cutting every single feather of your freedom wings, prohibiting you to even dream about leaving home one day.

It’s not like many questions were asked, you were never a rebellious child—always latching to your dad’s side after your mother’s abandonment, probably afraid of being left behind once again.

The bubble you lived in felt pretty stable, all filled with calmness and warmth. A loving father, a nice house and a calm city, that’s all you had known for 19 years.

“Good morning!” You stopped chewing in order to cover your mouth, pronouncing each word with effusiveness. Your father looked neat, a perfect ironed shirt accompanied by his signature vest. “Good morning, pretty girl!” His polished shoes squeaked funnily against the wood flooring.

Adding to his serious look, a black leather suitcase hung from his arm. Your eyes focused on his flared nostrils, admiring his ability to smell food from meters apart. “Oh, just what I like” His tone leaked with excitement, followed by desperate hands reaching for the utensils.

Each meal was spent together, one of the various rules you had been imposed since a young age. You weren’t opposed to it at all, gladly enjoying your father’s company when eating yet another home cooked meal.

The Kitchen’s layout was just the same from any other middle class home, classic and cozy—causing the electronic device in front of you to stand out.

A TV was one of those things you could never convince your father to like, too modern and distracting for his academic taste. However, with enough begging and birthday wishing, you could finally get to bring it home.

“Police are still investigating the sudden death of José Naranjo and his brother, Pablo Naranjo. Two recognized business men in Guadalajara, owners of multiple restaurants and hotels spread all over the city-” The news reporter looked dull, monotone voice combining his inexpressive features.

“Turn that off…breakfast is for spending time with family not staring at a screen.” Your dad looked at you through sharp eyes, adding authority to his demand. You complied immediately, rushing to press the button.

“Pft. Business men, I can’t believe that’s what they call them nowadays.” The silver fork suffered under his grasp, eyebrows tightened together showing discontent. Meanwhile, confusion decorated your face—quickly puzzled by the sudden complaint.

“What do you mean, daddy?” The last mentioned sighed heavily. “I’m just saying…people don’t get killed for no reason.” You froze, limbs feeling heavy at the cruel assumption. “Don’t say that, dad!” A hint of indignation tickling your throat.

Unfortunately, your father was right. The Naranjos weren’t your common old money family. In fact, they didn’t even come from generational wealth, more so from new opportunities. Two guys that knew exactly who to bribe, who to be friends with and who to eliminate. The pair of drug lords who ran your state.

The grey haired man decided to ignore your newfound empathy, clearly aware that it came from naivety.

One would think the extinction of yet another pair of assholes was a great input for humanity, and it was. The only problem being the empty vacant waiting to be filled by a crueler competitor.

Either way, none of that seemed to affect you from the Ford Pinto’s passenger seat. Too occupied admiring the city’s morning glow—unaware of the growing revolution happening on the same land you happily stepped on every day.

(…)

Punctuality above anything else, that’s what had been preached at home since the day you came to this world. Still, you always seemed to find new ways to distract yourself on campus.

But who could blame you? No one, not when a middle class girl with mediocre grades like you got to attend one of the most elite universities in all the country. “Ugh, thank God���at least, we’ll be late together.” You flinched at the intrusive arms wrapping around your shaky shoulders.

Sofia’s timeless face stared at you in playfulness, her pink lips stretched on a confident smirk while her gold earrings swinged around. “I wouldn’t be so relieved if I was you…” Your voice shook with each long stride you took.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure being the teacher’s daughter has its perks.” The brunette’s hair bounced smoothly with each movement, accompanied by her flared jeans and girly purse.

A slight frown morphed your features. On one side, you were deeply grateful for your father’s efforts, recognizing he was the only reason you ever got to step foot in the building. But on the other, it was exhausting—having to perform under his perfectionist supervision could be dreadful.

“Knock.” The tall girl threw at you, standing lazily next to a closed door. You shook your head in horror. “No. You knock!” Even with all the noise coming from the corridor, you could still hear the grey haired man lecturing the class of rich kids.

“Whatever…” Sofia’s green eyes rolled with annoyance, followed by his rough hands turning the metal handle. You took a deep breath, chest rising rapidly at the crowded room’s sight.

“Miss Conesa…and companion.” He looked strict, with his straightened back, puffed chest and one foot ruler pointing straight at you. Warmth started flowing to your face, feeling overwhelmed by the possibility of being berated in front of your juvenile classmates.

“Just…take a seat.” His sigh echoed through the tall walls, hurrying you to take a seat upfront. Quickly, your hands scattered through the infinity of notebooks, hoping to not anger the professor any further.

(…)

“And that’s the difference between permeable and impermeable surfaces.” The sun leaked through the huge windows, reflecting its beautiful light on the chalk drawings. Your heart rate had finally stabilized after a few minutes of inhaling and exhaling frenetically. Leaving you in a relaxed state while attentively listening to yet another geographic explanation.

The soft hand held your jaw with gentleness, a common pose you took when being deeply entertained. Your dad sure knew how to give a class, making you feel a sense of pride while seeing him talk through every topic with professionalism.

He looked so composed, right in his element. Suddenly, his face morphed into a surprised one. His normally straight eyes opened up like two big plates, staring abnormally at a foreign presence.

Perhaps three foreign presences. Deep in thought, you had managed to ignore the heavy boots unapologetically stepping into your learning zone.

The door was left wide open, blocked by three brutish looking men. Their features were rough, just as their burly bodies, which flexed proudly under old T-shirts and torn jeans. They had dirt on their shoes and arms, making them stand out from the crowd of ironed dresses and Italian loafers. Still, none of those characteristics were as astonishing as the pair of handguns hanging from their side.

“Class is over.” The taller one stepped forward, leaving his two henchmen behind. Funnily enough, he was the only one without a weapon, nonetheless, he had the scariest presence out of them all.

His voice was deep and demanding, his frame nothing but small. He was all big muscles and scarred skin, a clenched jaw adding authority to his already outrageous behavior.

The two dark orbs posed themselves dangerously over your father, making you gasp quietly. “What the fuck?” Sofia whispered from beside you, following the crowd’s confused murmuring.

“Didn’t you hear, motherfuckers?” The shorter one shouted aggressively, making you jump out of your seat with shaking legs. “Get moving! Get the fuck out of here!” Big surprise hit you like a truck when every single one of your spoiled classmates started abandoning the room, a few of them encouraged by the frenetic trashing coming from the armed individuals.

The stiffer ones were not-so kindly moved by violent pulling and pushing, quickly kicked out onto the hall. The turmoil of emotions had you frozen in place, weak knees barely holding you up.

Fear clouded your senses, making you fail at recognizing the angry man approaching you from the side. “No. Wait!” You struggled to move under the tight grip, one of the aggressive goons dragging you by the forearm and onto the room’s entrance.

Meanwhile, the leader stomped his way to your father. Maniac glint in his gaze while approaching your trembling father. You trashed harder against the mean guy’s chest, planting your feet on the wood floor. “My babies are dying…Because of you, asshole.” Spit flew to your dad’s face, making him squeeze his eyes together in a mixture of disgust and fear.

“But don’t worry, you’re going to fix this.” In one swift movement, the delinquent grabbed him by the collar. “Let go of him. Dad!” Voice broken making your demand sound much less intimidating, and much more pitiful.

Slowly but confidently, the wild beast turned his head around—attention focused on a new target. The tip of his lips stretched sickly across his face, making you question whether a smile had even been a kind gesture to begin with.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re coming with us too.” His calloused hands yanked your father back, making him stumble over his desk. “Chapo, start the car. We’re leaving with both princesses.” The last thing you saw was a shameless wink.

And as you were forced to keep your sight down, you couldn’t shake the feeling of two dark orbs burning holes into your skin.

(…)

"Honesty is the root of trust," your father used to say each night before tucking you in. "And families trust each other."

It’s funny to look back on now, considering the number of times you caught him in a lie.

"Trust needs to be earned," he'd add, as if to justify the weight of his words. Now, that made more sense. Harsh but true. You weren’t worthy of trust—not in his eyes. He’d made that clear, thousands of times.

Like when he lied about where your mother was—told you she was just "gone for a while," but you saw her things packed up in the car days before.

It wasn’t hard to see, the avoidance of your dad’s stare was noticeable—even for a hazy girl like you. Either way, there had been no time for confrontation, both of you being quickly thrown into an unknown car.

The thick fabric covering your face made you feel suffocated, preventing your eyes from wandering around. All you sensed was the heavy smell of a cigar, mixed with a strong herbal note. A beer bottle rolled all over the vehicle’s floor, occasionally crashing against your feet.

Rafa—that was the leader’s nightmarish name. You’d heard the four letters being thrown from one of his men, in the midst of imploring for mercy as dozens of curses flew their way. Rafa wasn’t a merciful man, though, fueled by his never-ending rage.

“Fucking imbeciles,” he barked through clenched teeth, hitting the compartment with a tight fist once again. “Geologist, you better sort this shit out or I’ll fuck you up…”

A vein popped on his forehead, his wild curly hair barely covering it, while sharp teeth flashed in a wolfish smirk. Your eyes couldn’t admire it, but your mind couldn’t help but imagine it. “…real bad.” His last words were buried by a thick cloud of smoke, followed by a cruel laugh.

Northern Mexican music blasted through the vehicle’s radio, making you feel overwhelmed—alongside your companion’s anxious leg constantly bumping against yours.

Would honesty had been of any help?… Perhaps it could’ve kept you from hysterically sobbing against the leather seats, but knowing yourself, it would’ve given your fear deeper roots.

Guadalajara’s sun scorched your exposed skin, the flimsy sundress offering little protection. A pair of dark eyes fixated on you, trailing over your trembling body as their owner licked his lips in anticipation.

The car lurched to a sudden stop, the jolt making your limbs feel impossibly heavy. “Stop crying, doll. You’re in good hands.” A pair of rough, calloused hands yanked you forward, fingers digging harshly into your wrists as you collided with a firm chest.

The scent hit you first—leather and tobacco, laced with the cold, metallic bite of money. The path beneath your feet was uneven, sharp rocks tearing at your delicate flats, a cruel contrast to the heavy boots beside you.

Rafa’s large palm settled firmly on your nape, forcing you deeper into the unknown. His grip was suffocating, his presence inescapable. Dust swirled in the air, the distant murmur of men blending with your father’s ragged breathing. A sea of outlawed cowboys surrounded you, their watchful eyes tracking your every move.

Suddenly, you were held still, the big hand applying an unnecessary force to your neck. A hurt whine resumed your tears.

The first thing you saw was a precarious floor, all dirt, no pavement. Such a contrast from the cosmopolitan city you were forced out of.

A languid moan alerted you—your father’s formal clothes turned a mess as he kneeled down. The men surrounding you wore rough features, all crossed arms and mean stares. “They’re drier than your ass.” Rafa’s remark made the goons laugh.

Dope, kilometers and kilometers of weed—dying herbs starting to look brown at the lack of hydration. Your lips opened in surprise, a loud gasp leaving them unannounced. The plantation was immense, its illicit leaves flaunting almos mockingly at you.

Blink after blink, you weren’t able to take in the grandness of it. Your fixation denied you from awareness while your father stuttered at the mob’s complaints.

“Don’t lie to me. You know about this shit!” The furious man kneeled down, accusing the innocent man with a pointed finger. “That day, when I visited you in your classroom…fuck, you told me it was here.” The rant was endless, insult after insult burying your father deeper into desperation.

“Geography isn’t an exact science.” You expressed, reaching a pair of intolerant ears.

The thing about ignorance, it’s that it's often followed by recklessness. His orbs were a dark brown, making them almost match his black hair. But when he focused his gaze at you, they grew even darker than the inky strands.

“Is that right?” The slow roll of his shoulders as he stood up, the way his fingers gripped his belt—it was a silent warning, a display of dominance wrapped in effortless ease. “I don’t fucking care…” Your breath hitched when his hand reached out for your jaw—silver rings pinching your soft cheeks. “…You better find my water,” Every word was enunciated with contained violence, husky voice fanning your ear lobe. “or I’ll kill you both.” Rafa gave you a last tug, shaking your brain with aggressiveness.

Your knees wobbled as his helped him back up confidently. Without breaking eye contact, his fingers snapped condescendingly. A short armed guy ran to his side, providing him with relief—the fat blunt was instantly lighted by another man, allowing Rafa to take a slow drag from it.

(…)

The sun had long withdrawn, fading the heat, and quickly replacing it by the cool breath of the desert wind—that stirred the sand in soft whispers.

The moon, high and full, bathed everything in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows of the illegal crops. The goosebumps traveling down your spine were starting to become insufferable, representing the chilling cold penetrating your bones.

Rafa, on the other hand, seemed to be just fine. His shirt had long abandoned his torso—leaving a wide chest only covered by multiple gold chains.

Your tears had dried out, leaving salty paths down your puffy cheeks. You could barely focus on the map, your fingers tracing the faint lines that Rafa, with his commanding presence, had insisted you hold steady. Your gaze, despite your best efforts, would drift to him — to the way his broad shoulders moved as he worked, digging into the earth with purpose. The muscles of his back rippled with every movement, each twist and turn of his body making the air seem heavier, more intoxicating.

He was relentless, his focus unwavering, even as his chest rose and fell with the exertion of his labor. The sweat that clung to his skin glistened in the moonlight, the gold chains around his neck catching the light in a hypnotic way. His vulgar curses would occasionally make you flinch, alongside the smoldering gaze he would direct to you each time the wind lifted your skirt.

Most of his men had drifted to sleep, exhausted by the long hours of being overworked—their snores barely drowned by the sporadic explosion of a grenade.

“Fucking bullshit” An animalistic grunt flew your way as Rafa climbed out of the huge hole he had just dug. His heavy lidded eyes leaked with frustration, making you step back in precaution.

Heavy boots made the floor creak. The man with black hair stomped his way back into the thatched-roof hut you had previously used to take refuge from the sun. Shyly, you followed right behind.

“Sons of bitches” He murmured between greeted teeth, violence in his eyes at the sight of a sleepy crew. A bottle of beer crashed onto the floor, purposely thrown by the fuming boss.

With both dirty hands, he took a whole batch of boxes with him. Effortlessly, he carried the explosive filled thing.

“Rafa, I don’t think that’s a good-” Your opinion went half heard, a concussive rumble numbing your ear holes and everyone’s around.

Men’s grunts and gasps were heard from all around, the explosion having woken up the sleepy crew. “What the fuck, Rafa?” The one they called ‘Chapo’ spoke in a raspy tone. Still, nothing seemed to get the maniac to stop.

This time, a whole box was thrown, “God damn it. You’re going to kill us all.” The black haired man pulled the pin of the last grenade with a slow, deliberate motion, his fingers steady despite the chaos humming in the air. The metal clinked as he rolled the explosive between his palms, like he was savoring the moment. But, just before he let it drop into the dark abyss below, he turned his head—just enough to catch your gaze. His eyes, wild and electric, gleamed under the dim light, a wicked grin stretching across his face, as if it was all just a game to him.

“Back up, back up.” Your father’s voice in the background did little for your nerves. Instinctively, your eyes shut together in distress.

The first explosion ripped through the silence like a thunderclap. Fire erupted from the impact, a shockwave tearing through the air, sending dirt flying in every direction. Before the dust could settle, a second detonation followed, louder, angrier. Then, absolute silence.

Nothing but the occasional chirping of a cricket interrupted the stillness. Until, it happened. A thin trickle seeped through the fractured soil. The trickle grew, turning into a steady stream, then water started surging upward in sudden bursts.

The liquid soaked you entirely, making you fear nearing hypothermia. “No fucking way, man!” Excited shouts numbed your brain, causing dizziness to attack you.

People jumped up and down in excitement, causing the ground to tremble beneath the force. Your confusion made you stumble around, no real direction in mind.

A pair of strong arms kept you steady for once, shameless digits gripping onto your hips. Dangling chains and sweaty chest pressing against you.

You felt him, the heat his body exuded was suffocating—as well as the invasive rubbing on your waist.

His breathing was ragged as it fanned on your hair. Big palms travelled to your jaw, handling it to the right angle—making you meet his dilated pupils.

He towered over you, mentally and physically. Every single one of his pores leaked cockiness, accompanied by that unbeatable grin, the type of grin only a powerful man has.

You were at the beginning of his empire and he would make sure you followed until the end of it. "You just secured me a shit ton of money," he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, taunting. But there was no choice to be made, no escape from the crushing weight of his presence.

Before you could react, he took what he wanted—mouth colliding with yours in a brutal, possessive kiss. His grip on your jaw tightened as his tongue forced its way past your lips, swallowing your muffled protest like it was nothing. The world around you erupted in chaos—gunfire cracking through the air, cheers ringing out—but all you could feel was him, suffocating, unyielding, claiming.

.

.

.

[lucysarah-c]

I'll just say, I may be here posting about Mounting Spring, asks etc... But I'm cooking... I'm cooking something everyone asked me for lol

“I like this! This 3D flower pattern is so on trend right now.”

Levi’s eyes were glued to the screen as a freshly painted nail was shown up close.

“Oh, hi! Thank you,” her voice popped up again, and like an animal in pure confusion, he tilted his head to the side.

What are those things popping up? He was completely lost.

“Isn’t it too late for coffee?” she read aloud before grabbing her cup and taking a sip from the straw. “There’s no such thing as too much black or too late for coffee. Plus, it’s girls’ night! What’s a girls’ night without iced coffee or a glass of wine?”

This feels wrong now, Levi thought, taking a sip of his own drink, lazily sprawled on his bed. But when she started showing off her pajamas, that’s when he lost it.

Holy shit... it’s the little shorts doing it for me.

“This is why kids these days have their eyes glued to this shit,” he muttered, almost offended— as if his own mouth wasn’t slightly open and his eyes weren’t stuck to the screen as she vibed to the song playing in the background.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” She winked at the camera, arm in the air, hips moving in a way that Levi quickly guessed was meant to simulate riding. Over the kitchen island.

…I’m definitely not better than a 12-year-old boy.

The chat flooded with messages about how much they loved the song.

Whose song is this?

“Oh! I love that! Ugh, my heart is divided, I want all of them to win! Birds of a Feather is so good, but Hot to Go?” she gushed, listing more names Levi didn’t recognize.

Who are those?

“And the dance?”

What trend? What song? What dance?

Levi felt lost. Completely lost.

“Oh, thank you for the donation! Here, a heart for you!”

She pressed two fingers together in the shape of a heart. Levi tilted his head again, frowning.

How the hell is that a heart?

But before he could keep questioning his entire existence—or, perhaps, his age—her expression shifted. The usual bright smile faded as she read something from the chat.

“Look, if you’ve got a problem with me, just keep scrolling, buddy. Can an admin ban him from the stream, please?”

That made Levi do the exact opposite. He scrolled up through the rapidly moving chat until he found the comment in question. Some idiot had said she owed it to him if something happened because of what she was wearing and doing on screen.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” Levi whispered, clicking his tongue. “If a woman has never even touched you, don’t say it so loudly.”

His fingers moved on their own, pressing the guy’s username, looking for a way to reply—until he suddenly let the phone drop onto his chest and stared at the ceiling.

“I need to calm down,” he muttered. Being in this live stream was already too much for him. Getting into an online argument was not the way to go.

How long had he been watching? He wasn’t sure. But in that time, he’d learned that ASMR meant tapping on objects with freshly done nails and whispering, that people voted on live which designs she should do next, and… a whole lot more.

“Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s me, espresso…”

She sang along to the music, and he felt hypnotized.

“…Did I just spend two hours of my life on this?”

The “Love ya!” came through the speakers as she blew a final kiss before ending the live.

“For fuck’s sake…” Levi muttered, almost offended. “You can’t be that stupidly cute.”

Maybe pop songs were popular for a reason. Maybe that’s why Levi never downloaded any apps on his phone or used it for anything beyond strictly necessary texts. Because explain to him why the hell he was humming at work.

“Since when do you know Sabrina Carpenter?”

Hange appeared out of nowhere, catching him off guard.

Levi had to come up with an excuse. Fast.

“What? Is it illegal for me to know new songs?”

“No…” Hange dragged the word out, squinting at him in suspicion. “But since when do you?”

“Give me a break. I’m not that old. I can get to know new artists,” he brushed it off while brewing himself a tea.

Hange let it slide, but their mind was already working, scheming. They kept talking, mostly about work. But as Levi finished his tea and was ready to leave, Hange casually dropped:

“Espresso?”

Levi frowned. “What?”

Hange repeated the question immediately, as if he hadn’t heard them the first time. But of course, he had.

“Fuck no. You know I hate coffee. Black tea,” he grumbled.

To his shock, Hange chuckled, shaking their head, biting their lip as they held back a knowing smile.

“Aww, Shortie… don’t give yourself away.”

“Huh?”

“Espresso. That’s the song you were humming.” Their grin widened. “I’m starting to think you’re not just listening to new artists—you’re watching new people.”

Levi stiffened.

And for the first time, he couldn’t hide the subtle embarrassed blush creeping up his face.

“Get off my ass,” he muttered, already walking away.

But Hange wasn’t done.

“And I think it might be Erwin’s cute little influencer friend!”

I won't say anything else, let the readers figure it out.

[swarvey]

when you've moved on | elliott x gn!reader | part two

summary -> he slowly lost interest in you after you got married. now he watches you fall back in love with someone else. warnings -> very slight mention of nsfw, implied age gap, mainly just angst! wc -> 1106

a/n: i swear i keep trying to write for the bachelorettes but then get inspired with an idea for the bachelors :') anyways have this, decided to do elliott since he's "so much older and wiser" iykyk.

this was inspired by the dialogue you get when your hearts with your sdv spouse gets low, except i flipped the tables :) lmk if you guys want to see this as a series!!

part one -> the way i loved you (sebastian)

tolerate it -> "what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins?"

elliott's pen hovers over the page in front of him, unmoving for the past ten minutes now. his grip tightens, knuckles white in frustration as he finally releases it, falling back in his chair with his eyes closed as it clatters onto his table.

his writer's block has never been worse, and it's because all he can think of is you.

more so, his loss of you.

no matter how many times he replays the scenario in his head, he can't make sense of how he lost you. he still remembers his wedding day, how he couldn't help but tear up at the sight of you approaching him down the aisle.

"you said you wouldn't cry," you'd teased him.

"i said i would try, my dear," he responded, touching your cheek gently, "but how can i not? your beauty is otherworldly today."

he remembers his vows, his promise to always be by your side. he remembers kissing you like his life depended on it. he remembers going home with you that night, in disbelief that he could finally call you his as he pulled his hair into a bun, mermaid's pendant hitting his bare chest as he dragged you to the bedroom.

"i love you, y/n," he'd said after, both of you panting in exhaustion and satisfaction beside each other. "more than anything else in this universe. i wouldn't trade you for a hundred iridium bars."

you'd laughed, turning your head to look at him with shining eyes and pink cheeks. "really? how about a thousand?"

"nor a thousand."

"ten thousand?"

"not even ten thousand bars, no."

". . . how about a hundred thousand?"

"no, not even a hundred thousand bars!" he'd turned to you then, wide-eyed and holding back a grin at the sight of your scheming gaze. "my love, let's be reasonable—"

"what about a million bars?"

"wha . . . a million bars of pure iridium . . . ? dear, don't make me do this . . ."

"a-ha!" you'd said, sitting up in bed suddenly. "so you would!"

"i never said such a thing!"

at the sight of his pout, you had sprawled yourself on top of him, planting a kiss on his nose as he looked down at you with a smile.

"i love you, too, el."

elliott sighs, his head falling forward into his hand. one part of him wishes to hear you utter those words again; the other prays he'll one day forget you ever said them.

the first few seasons after the wedding had been dreamlike — elliott had never felt so full of life before. it was like being with you had opened his eyes to how colorful and bright the world could be. sometimes he would wake up before you and admire your sleeping figure, a soft smile appearing on his lips every time he caught a glimpse of your necklace.

he doesn't remember when the spark began to fade, though.

no, he only recalls the days he began to leave the farm early in the morning to spend time alone in his old cabin on the beach, coming back only for dinner. the two of you would eat quietly, sitting at opposite ends of the table. he would ask and answer questions shortly, mainly focusing on the dull, uninspiring feeling he seemed to get every time he was in your shared house.

he never noticed the sad look filling your eyes, begging him to pay attention to you, to show you the love he once had for you. he paid no mind to how your face lit up every time he came home, only to deflate as he walked past you. he never even thought about how your conversations with him had turned one-sided, as he would spill his troubles to you without even giving you a chance to share yours.

not until it was too late, that is.

". . . do you still love me?"

it was a question he never thought he would hear from you, and yet he'd unknowingly driven you to that point. elliott had never heard silence so loud until then, realizing that, for some reason, he couldn't answer your question.

"answer me, elliott," you'd said, voice wavering as he uneasily met your eyes. "i need to know this. i feel like you've been treating me like a kid lately — when i talk to you, i can barely get a word out without you lecturing me. you're barely home to even do that anymore."

he scoffed. "please, y/n, be reasonable," he had replied, the same words he had said that night after professing his love to you. "i've simply been a bit caught up lately, that's all. i need my own time to write."

"seriously? that's what you're going to say?" you shook your head, crossing your arms as you looked at him pleadingly. "why are you acting like this? do you seriously think being a bit older than me justifies how you've been treating me?"

"that has nothing to do with our situation," he snapped sharply, then sighed. "please, can we go to bed? i'm tired of this." he started towards the bedroom door, leaving you behind him.

"you never answered my question."

he stopped.

"it's okay, el," you'd whispered. "i had a feeling i already knew. i was just hoping you would at least be able to tell me."

so now, here he is. unable to finish the sequel to his novel because he'd dedicated the first one to you, and what's the point of writing a second one if you're no longer by his side?

what's the point if you have sebastian now, who spends every second with you? who is much younger than him and rides a motorcycle? who gives you a mermaid's pendant — a year after the two of you separated, by the way — and makes sure the entire town can make it to your wedding?

he doesn't know what you see in him. sure, his passion for music is a bit admirable, but can he really treat you properly? there's no way seb can make you smile, make you laugh, make you cry out of pure joy or pleasure like he did.

elliott had attended the wedding, of course, so he could make sure you were happy.

he most certainly wasn't hoping to see a twinge of hesitation, maybe even regret in your eyes as you walked down the aisle again.

as elliott abandons his writing and heads out the doorway of his cabin, the image of you happier than he'd ever seen you while passionately kissing sebastian is burned into his mind.

you are no longer his, and it's entirely his fault.

[melancholyhigh]

dbf!leon omggggg i need more of him LMAOO

who has the voice like smarty does?

ft. dbf!leon x fem!reader

synopsis. your dad gets called into work early and asks leon to take care of you.

content. smut. 1.5k words. age gap, oral (both m & f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected p in v, doggy style.

note. thank you guys for requesting <333 i love old man leon sm.

masterlist. part one. part two. part three. i love your guys' feedback :))

You struggled to get to the kitchen. Your legs tremble, walking over, a reminder of your time with Leon last night. 

You’re in his black tee. His scent engulfs your senses. There’s a smile on your face as you think about him. His touch on your skin and his sweet voice replay in your mind. 

Pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, you don’t notice when your dad enters the room. His voice breaks your train of thought.

“Hey,” your dad says awkwardly. 

“Hey, Dad. Ya good?” You trail on, looking at him with scepticism. He looks nervous. He’s rarely like this. It scares you a little. 

He clears his throat before adding, “I need to tell you something, but promise you won’t get mad, ‘kay?”

“Yeah?” You nod your head. You doubt you’d keep the promise. 

“Ya know how I was at the DSO celebration last night? They want me to–” Before he can finish, you’re already protesting. 

“Come on! You said you wouldn’t do anything work-related while I’m here. The party was enough.” You’re mad, rightfully so. 

“You promised you wouldn’t get angry.” You scoff at his words. 

“Can’t they get someone else to do it? Don’t they know you’re on vacation?” You questioned. 

“Yes, but they need me.” He tries to explain. You needed him too. 

“Bullshit.” 

Your father can make you concerned. It fills you with anxiety each time he leaves for a mission, even while at your classes. You’re constantly worried for his safety. You’ve heard stories and seen the news. You don’t want Dad to be one of those reports on the papers for the wrong reasons. 

“I don’t need you worrying over me,” he sighs. “I’ll be fine, like all the other times.”

You’re getting ready to argue again that this is different. You’re spending your vacation with your dad to keep him company, but he’s too busy leaving you for a work call.

“I’ll ask Leon to keep ya company,” he continued, and all the words on your tongue died. “I know how much you wanted to spend your break with your old man. I’m sure Leon’ll be up to it.” 

You knew he’d do more than keep you company. The offer seems too good to be true. All alone with Leon? Did your dad know what would happen? It still doesn’t change that you’re still furious with him. 

“And I don’t want you freaking out. Leon will help with what you need.” Your dad adds.

“Whatever,” you mumble. “Please, don’t die.” 

Your dad laughs, but you’re not joking. He moves to your side of the island’s counter and wraps his arms around you for a hug, kissing your forehead. 

“I love ya too.”

–-

Your dad left a day later for his ‘important’ mission. He tells you Leon will check up on you once in a while. Generally, you’d be annoyed if your dad asked someone to look after you like a child, but Leon is the one checking up on you, so you don’t mind.

There’s a knock, and you open the door revealing Leon with a grin and some takeout. He presses his lips to your cheek and then enters the house placing the food on the coffee table in the living room. He sits on the couch, and you join him. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice makes your heart flutter. 

“I’m better now since you’re here, Lee.” You say, moving closer to him, craving his comforting touch. A small smile forms on his lips at the nickname, though he doubts you’re fine.

Leon notes your furrowed brows and the slight frown that pulls at the corner of your lips. He pulls you onto his lap, kissing your lips. His hands are on your hips, squeezing softly.  

“I don’t think you’re all that good, sweet girl. Want me to help you take your mind off things?”

You wouldn’t have guessed Leon taking care of you would have involved him teaching you to take his cock down your throat in the living room of all places. You shouldn’t be surprised that he’s taking advantage of your father’s absence.

Your knees are on a soft throw pillow, preventing them from the wooden floor. Leon’s pants and boxers are down to his ankles as he sits on the couch, stroking his erection. Your eyes dart from his pretty face to his dick, leaking precum down the shaft. The low groans that leave him have you dripping. 

“Lick it, angel,” he huffs, entangling his hand in your hair and guiding you to his throbbing cock. 

Your tongue runs along the veins of his cock, tasting the precum that drips down onto his shaft. You’re whining at his taste, moving your tongue to the underside of the sensitive head before sucking on the tip. 

Throwing his head back, Leon lets out a loud groan, bucking his hips into your warm mouth. You take more of him until he hits the back of your throat, and a wet gag escapes you. He’s holding back from fucking your throat ‘til all you can think of is his cock. 

“Atta girl. You love my cock down your throat, don’t you?” He moans, bucking his hips up, and you whimper, muffled by his fat cock. The vibrations run along his swollen cock, sending a shiver down his spine. 

You began to bob your head up and down him, peering up at him through your lashes, clumped together by your tears. Leon does nothing to prevent the loud moans that leave him. 

“You’re my pretty little cockslut,” he gasps. His lips part, and a series of moans escape him. You swallow around him and snap your eyes shut. 

Leon’s getting close to his release. He guides your mouth off his cock, whining softly when your teeth graze the sensitive flesh of his cock. He admires your appearance once you’re off his cock. Drool spilling past your lips, lips swollen and slicked with spit. Your eyelashes flutter open. You’re looking up at him, awaiting his next move. 

“Stick your fucking tongue out,” he grunts, and you comply. He tugs on his cock covered with your spit chasing his orgasm, his head thrown back as his come spurts out, coating your tongue and pretty face with his cum. He groans as he watches you swallow it. 

“Good girl.” He pants. “C’mere.”

You’re quick to listen to him, moving from the spot on the floor to his lap, your pussy flushed against his surprisingly half-hard dick. He brings you into a sloppy kiss, tasting his salty cum on your tongue before moving away from you, gasping.

“Mhm, good girls deserve rewards, right, baby?” He’s taking your clothes off, leaving you with nothing on right before his eyes. He feels how warm your cunt is, dripping onto him. 

“Since you’ve been so good, ‘m gonna eat this pretty pussy out.”

You’re on your knees, and your face squished up against the throw pillows on the couch. Your arousal leaks down your thighs as Leon slurps at your drenched cunt. His moans are dampened by your pussy. He’s shamelessly eating you out to get his cock fully hardened again. 

Your thighs spread wide, quivering as Leon sucks on your clit. You are robbed of your climax as Leon pulls away, your slick mixed with his saliva. Your whines aren’t in vain because soon after, his dick enters your cunt slowly.

“Want you t’cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he slurs. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

He’s pistoning his dick in your pussy. He pulls out of your cunt before swiftly entering into you again, over and over. Your back is arched, your ass flushed against his pelvis. The sound of your skin making contact fills the room alongside Leon’s whorish moans. 

Leon’s bulky wrap around you, under your tits, as he pulls your back up against his firm chest, he bucks his hips up into you, his breath tickling your ear.

“Let me hear you, pretty girl,” he huffs, moving his other hand to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud. Your walls clench around him, hugging him so well. Your whimpering increasing in volume. 

“You feel so good, Lee.” You’re sobbing as you feel the tip of Leon’s cock kissing your cervix sweetly. You’re close to coming. Your legs shake with each thrust of Leon’s hips. Your mind filled with Leon and how good he’s making you feel, only manage to gasp his name out. 

“Come for me, baby.” He groans into your ear as he rams his cock inside you.

Your mind goes blank with pleasure. Your cunt pulsing around Leon from your orgasm. He comes undone, pulling out and spilling onto your back. 

Leon moves his hand from under you, and you collapse onto the soft cushioning of the couch. His cum dripped from your back to the sofa. You feel the silky cloth of Leon’s tee as he wipes his cum off your back. You also feel his soft lips against you, trailing kisses on the flushed skin.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.”

[blingblong55]

Did you care?- König

Part 1 is here

F!Reader, angst, no happy ending, cheating

"König!" you laugh, the waves of the warm summer ocean crashing against you. His family had invited you with them that summer, the first girl he ever brought home. He never told you that though. "Oh my Liebling." he laughs with you, taking you deeper into the ocean. It was then that he knew how strong love can be. Hours later, as you chased his little nieces and nephew along the shore, his family told him something he still remembers.

The accident, that is when you knew he still cared. At the age of 37, that is when he became a father to a woman he never loved. A car crash and stitches, that is what brought you to him. A father and a boyfriend, never to marry anyone else that isn't you, that is what made him a coward to his girlfriend's family. "R/N, König has gotten into a car accident." his mother called you around 2 am, her voice so tired and filled with fear. You dropped everything, including the late-night dinner you were having with your then-partner.

"Love, where are you going?" he questioned you. "A friend needs me, she...she broke up with her boyfriend and she needs me." The first of many lies you told to keep him safe. You didn't cheat but you lied to visit the guy you will always love. As you drove to the hospital, tears ran down your face. It was fear, regret and shame. "Hallo, ich muss einen Patienten finden-"

"R/N." his mother came rushing to you, tears on her face. You hugged her and walked with her to the waiting area. His father was there as well, you hugged him too and after minutes of breaks and cries, the story lay in your hands. The mother of his child ran away with his kid, he begged and cried for her to return. She lost their kid, got arrested and after a week of looking, he heard his child was found. One drunk driver, that is all it took to have you sit there, holding the hand of his forlorn mother. His child was under the custody of the police and he was in a grey room.

"You think you'll ever end up marrying me, R/N?" he looked over at you as you hung up decorations for Christmas. "I don't see myself ever marrying and there are times I fear of it. Just know this, I know I am meant for someone." He nods and keeps the ring in his pocket tucked away. "Yeah." was all he answered. You looked at him as he looked away at some decoration.

"For you, that is who I am meant for. I don't want a ring, a dress or a ceremony, I want this, this life you and I already have." you wished to say but those words never came out. Month after month you gave him clear clues that you wanted to be the one he lived with, old and grey.

You didn't even notice when his parents had gone to his room. You sat and stared at the white wall. The two years and a half that you spent trying to forget him all come crashing down. One phone call from his mother and you were there at his disposal. Many ask, what parts of life flash before someone as they near their possible death? For him it was you. The day at the beach, Christmas, the drunk karaoke, silly argument over movies. "Harry and Sally stayed together!" you protested. "Mein Liebling, Harry and Sally are two of the people I know will not make it to old age together. It was a kiss, maybe Sally left after that."

The one thing that he knew flashed before his eyes was the conversation at the beach years ago. Once you were let into his room, you sat by his bed. Parents out in the hallways, you held his hand. Fear was to die alone but this image was the current fear. Tears ran down your face, it didn't matter that he cheated years ago, that you two hadn't spoken since but what mattered was him now. You stoked his hair and kissed his forehead with trembling lips. Before, you couldn't stand him, but he was in this world alive and that brought you tranquillity. The thought of him no longer in it, that was the fear. Who cared if he moved on, he was alive, healthy and happy.

The muse to the blues you whistled, the kiss he gave you on the mysterious bruise, the cliche dance in the kitchen at midnight, and now you sit there, looking at his scarred face. You whispered for only him to hear, "That evening in December, when you were going to propose, I would've said yes, I was meant for someone, remember?" You stood up and walked out of the room. "R/N, will you stay?" His father asks. "I'm sorry, I have to meet someone early in the morning but keep me updated." You kissed his father's cheek and hugged his mother.

Meanwhile, König lay in that bed, eyes teary as he heard your confession. The ring he wanted to give you was on a chain that hung by his neck. Always to be by his heart. "Liebling." he whispers. "I want to marry you, over and over again." That is a promise two young lovers made.

"When we get old, you and I better retell the story of us," you say as you lay in the green grass. "And I will tell it to you every night," König spoke softly. "Every night," he holds your hand. "I will always tell you the story of how I met the greatest thing in my life." He smiles and sighs happily, "And I'll make you fall in love with me all over again." He meant every word, he wanted the spark of love between them to never die, for them to always be in love. "I'll always fall in love with you as if it was the first time, every single time." He cared, more than you'll ever know.

"You never let her go, my son." his mother sternly says. He sighs and looks over at you, his youngest niece hung by his arms, his nephew chasing you both. The giggles from the children and your laughter, yeah, he wants that life with you. "You think she'll want to?" he asks his parents. "If not today or in a year, I know she will." He looks at the ring and nods. "When I marry her, can you both please not give a long speech?" This caused his parents to laugh and nod a little.

Maybe the movies and all the news articles are right, in some universe, you and him are together. And in that universe, he has his three kids, a wife and the picket fence to his home. A home with you, two hearts that beat for the other. He cares.

Tags: @sunshiinegaz @liyanahelena

[seresinhangmanjake]

One of Many Firsts

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader Drabble

Summary: Eve found a new guy and Jake isn't thrilled.

This is based on an idea from @xoxabs88xox that was sent ages ago. Sorry it's so late.

Oh, Baby series

Words: 500

---

Jake likes enjoying his peaceful afternoon. He got the day off from work, he spent the entirety of the morning in bed with his wife, his son is sleeping peacefully in his crib after an exhausting few early hours with his grandmother, and now all that's left is to wait patiently for his baby girl's return from kindergarten. Seeing her face and hearing her excited voice when she greets him at the end of the day never fails to swell his heart. 

Until today. 

"Daddy, I got married!" Eve shouts as she runs down the hall and jumps into Jake's awaiting arms. "Just like you and Mama!"

His brow pinches as he hoists her up with his hug. "I'm sorry, what now?"

He hears a chuckle, and with his daughter wrapped in his arms, Jake turns to face you. You grin, having finally caught up to your wild child that is so used to sprinting after her father. 

"Married?" He questions as he sets Eve on her feet. "I didn't approve of that."

You walk over and he accepts your kiss just before you say, "I've been informed that Billy Fisher is the lucky boy." 

"Fisher!" Jake snaps, eyes flicking back and forth between your amused ones and the sparkling green pair that matches his own. "Absolutely not. My daughter will have nothing to do with a Fisher boy. They're wild! Bound to be troublemakers."

"Troublemaker?" Eve repeats the word with curiosity. 

"Yes, baby girl."

With a snort you say, "Jake, those boys are five and two years old."

"And I can sense it already," he grumbles, plopping down on the couch. His fingers rub deep into his forehead as Eve scrambles onto his lap. 

"Look, Daddy! Daddy, look!"

He lifts his hand from over his eyes to find five tiny fingers wiggling in his face. Around the fourth dainty digit is a thin ring of pink construction paper. It's jagged at its edges and poorly taped together, but it does the job.

A boulder settles in his stomach.

"Yea, no," Jake declares, looking at you.

You chuckle again, crossing your arms. "Jake…"

From the long look you give him he eventually surrenders. "Alright, fine," he sighs. Then he sits up a bit straighter on the couch and stares his daughter right in the eye. "But first of all, a paper ring is not good enough for you. Do not accept less than you deserve. And second…" 

He hesitates, taking another breath when Eve tilts her head in question. "Nevermind, just go play. We'll come get you when it's time to leave for ice cream."

"Ok!" She yelps and hops down, disappearing up the stairs. 

When you're sure she's in her playroom, you ask, "What was second?"

Jake shakes his head. "It's too early to explain divorce to her."

"Oh, don't worry about that," you begin, walking closer and taking the free spot on his lap. His arms instantly curl around your waist. "You know our daughter. By next week, she'll have forgotten all about it."

---

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie

[alien-magnolia]

please could i request a joel miller x female reader smut where they’re playing 21 questions and they’ve always flirted and she asks him awkward/sexual questions like “which way does your cock bend” and “what turns him on” etc etc, and it end with hella smut, lots of daddy usage and maybe squirting i’m a sucker for squirting 🫶

A/n: Hey :) sorry it took me a while to get back to you, but we here now. Hope u enjoy :) and feel free to send more requests

21 Questions

Tw: dom!coded Joel miller, subby!fem reader, innocence, corruption kink, bj, squirting, age gap

18+ minors DNI. Wc: 1.8k

A late evening in early June. 8 o’clock, and the sun shines over a rich dark green lawn, paired with a light blue suburban ranch home. The wind gently pushes the colorful windchimes near the oak door, on a porch entrance. Inside, a young woman. Outside, an older man, shuffling upon the porch.

—————————————————

The doorbell rings throughout the house, you rush quickly to open it. Tonight you had on a pure white mini-skirt, a lacy top to match, that showed off your cleavage perfectly. You were still a Virgin, yet something changed when you first met Joel. You wanted him, in a way that you haven’t wanted any guy you’ve met before. Besides, Joel was not just some guy. He was a man. With your meet-up with him tonight, you wanted him to know how you really felt. You just didn’t know how to do it.

Your small, dainty, hand opens the door. There he is. “Heya, sweetheart,” his thick Southern voice drawls across the living room. Your eyes fixate on his Adam’s Apple, you watch it with curiosity and intent. He catches your glance, chuckling, as you shyly invite him in.

He sits down on the couch, manspread. You gulp, telling your eyes not to draw over to his crotch. “How about a beer, Mr. Miller?,” you offer. “Please, sweetie. Call me Joel. Yeah, I’d like one.” You nod, as you scurry over to the kitchen to bring him a beer. You bend over as you are by the fridge, reaching in for a nice, cold beer for this incredibly attractive man in your living room.

You bring him the beer, and he thanks you, patting the spot next to him, on the couch. A cue for you to sit. You cross your legs, folding your hands over your lap, your diamond ring on your one hand shining. You were quite different from Joel. You did not spend all day in the dirt like he did. This aspect of him, only made you want him more.

“Hey. Um. Can we play twenty-one questions? Maybe get to know each other a little better?,” you gingerly ask. “Sure, hon. How about I start, yeah?”

You nod. “How old are you again?,” he asks. “I’m twenty-two. I know you’re a lot older than me,” you chuckle, looking at him. “Fifty-six,” he replies. You are in awe of this. This was a huge age gap. You start to feel a bit of wetness growing, spreading across your pink lacy thong.

You giggle, crossing your legs together to ease some of that tension. His chiseled arms, the brown — gray stubble on his face, his deep brown eyes, those soft, pink lips. You wanted to kiss him right then and there. You restrained yourself. “Can it be my turn now?,” you ask, batting your eyes at him, while your manicured fingers tap on your smooth, soft, thighs. “Sure, hon. Ask away,” his deep southern drawl just excites you even more.

“What’s your type? Do you like it if someone is younger than you?,” you pose the question as innocently as possible. He chokes on his beer, nervously chuckling, and wiping his mouth with a napkin. You beg him to tell you the truth. Something tells you that you would like the answer you find. “I do, yeah. Frankly, to be honest, hon, someone as young and sweet as you, is exactly my type.”

Your heart rate begins to quicken. You looked into his eyes, it felt as if they were pulling you in. You smile a bit, confessing that you were into him as well. More questions begin to arise, as he downs the beer you gave him, even tilting the bottle towards your mouth so you can have a little sip.

“What turns you on, Mr Miller?,” you say, out of the blue. The both of you were a little tipsy on the beer at this point. He chuckles. “You really wanna know, sweetie?” You nod eagerly. “Well, you see, I like good girls. Obedient, sweet, good girls that listen, wear nice lingerie, and know how to suck cock the right way,” he states, matter of factly.

Your face began to burn as you squirmed around in your seat on the couch. You failed to notice that he had moved a bit closer to you. “I can do that,” you whisper, now noticing how close he was to you.

He smiles, and then brings his face closer to yours, two pairs of lips meeting for a kiss. A long, gentle yet passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slip inside your mouth, his stubble tickling your cheeks in the most wonderful way.

“How about another question, sweetheart,” he starts. You nod. “Ya think that tonight, I can see what’s under that pretty skirt of yours?”

This was it. It was actually happening. “Yes. Please,” you moan a bit, breathily. “My good girl, using her manners. C’mon now. On your knees f’me,” he commands, sternly but softly. Fuck — you loved it.

Your tiny hand palms him through his jeans, feeling the bulge grow bigger and bigger with every stroke of your fingers. Soon enough, a tent in his jeans appears, and you want nothing more than to put your face in it. You look up at him. “Can I?” He nods. You begin to unzip his jeans, your small hands around his belt. Both jeans and belt fall to the floor, and you stare with hungry eyes at his tent in his boxers.

Your small hands gingerly pull off his boxers, revealing his already erect cock, with a good bush to match. You run your hands all over his v-line, tracing spots there, feeling his coarse hair. You shift around on your knees a bit. “Come up, sweetie. I got something better for ya.”

You get back onto the couch, as he lays down, his big arms behind his head, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. His coarse hand comes up to hold your cheek. “Look at you. Gorgeous. Ready to suck my cock, sweetie?,” he asks, gentle. You nod.

Nervously, you move yourself closer to his cockhead, giving it little kisses, as you make eye contact with him. His deep moans can be heard, softly, like music to your ears.

You give his cock a bit of kisses, before taking it in your mouth, God — it was so soft, so warm, it sat perfectly in your throat!!! Periodically, his cock became firmer, harder, as you took it deep down your throat. You looked up at him for approval.

His eyes were closed, head up high, moaning, softly, you watched those little hairs on his chest slightly move with every of his motions.

His eyes meet yours. A toothy smile. You smile back, as you pamper his cock with some kisses. “Fuck, hun. Jus’ like that. Being such a good girl for me, yeah?,” his raspy voice startled you.

You shook your head, giggling, as his large and hairy hand came up to give your face a few reassuring rubs and nods. You continue your gentle kisses and licks on his cockhead, tracing all three, bulging, prominent veins on the sides.

He stops you. You are confused —- what if he didn’t like your head anymore?! Could you have done something wrong?

“Sweets. Hows about I put it in, yeah? Wanna see how nice and tight and pussy this is,” he gruffly says, waiting for your approval.

You nod, looking at him with those sweet, doe, eyes, as he stands up, towering over you. With one big knee pressing into your thigh, his hands grab onto your thighs and roughly pull you forward. One hand on each side, caging you into him. You’re brought in for yet another kiss, longer this time, sweeter, the both of you smile into it.

You feel his bearded, rough cheek, against yours. Heaven. With that, you see him pull out a box of condoms.

“Joel. No need. I’m on the pill,” you softly say. He looks up, in shock. “Gonna let me, uh…,” he was about to start, then hesitates. “Breed me?,” you finish for him. There was that toothy smile again.

“Open f’me, sweets.” You do as said, your plump thighs spreading on the bed, ready for him to inspect. You were his little cow, all ready to be bred and pumped full of cum, until she couldn’t walk!!

“Fuck. Lemme see how good this cunt’s gonna take me, yeah?,” he asks, a predatory gaze in his eyes. Well, you certainly did feel like his prey. You feel his hard length slide into you, pulsing, hot. It felt like you were filled up to the brim. He was around eight inches, it felt like. You could feel that warm, round sack against your puffy lips. He starts slow, reaching in deep, causing you to shudder as his tip touches the tip of your cervix :)

Soon enough, his hairy thighs slap against yours, as he moves at a bit of a quicker pace. You feel his cock pulsating and twitching inside you, it just turns you on so much!! You squeeze tighter and tighter around him. You feel his veiny hands trail around your front to grip at your soft breasts momentarily, before returning to their guiding place on your hips, his grip so tight on you. Oh God — he was strong.

His grip tightened, rough, calloused fingers on the plush of your hips, tracing over those stretch marks :) You were glad that he liked them.

“Feel you squeezin’ me, princess. Tell me what ya want. Go on,” you hear his deep and a bit slurred voice above you. He must have been absolutely delirious by how tight you were around him. “Want you to breed me, Joel …please,” you whisper out in a breathy moan. You hear his chuckle — you loved how deep his voice was.

“Stay still, babygirl. Gonna give you my cum, gonna - fuck, make you mine, gonna fill you up,” he barely moans out, he was so close, you felt it. You both came at the same time, you were seeing white, hot pleasure, he was seeing the same. You felt a bit of cum spray out onto him, onto those brown, curly hairs all over him, that you loved so much. “Honey. Did you just squirt?,” you hear him ask.

You blush. What if he didn’t like it!? “Hey. Princess.” He must’ve felt your anxiety. “Calm down, yeah? I think it’s cute. Reckon, I’m glad I came over here tonight. You showed me a good time,” he gently says, as you smile up at him, closing your eyes as he gives you a little forehead kiss.

“Can we do this again?,” you sheepishly ask, as he wipes you down with a towel, and then leaning back onto the couch, patting his thigh as a signal for you to come cuddle. You oblige, laying your head on his hairy chest.

“‘’Course, hun. We definitely will.”

[celestie0]

ellie's beta reader application

hi friends!! i am looking for beta readers for my jjk fanfics :"0 i just reaaallyyy want to get back into writing n stuffs but have been struggling w motivation/confidence so i feel like having beta readers would make it nicer n easier aaa :'')

here are the stories that i'm looking for beta readers for, plus a little blurb about what the beta readers' role/input would be for each, but in general you’d basically be reading thru my chapter, leaving comments/notes w suggestions or reactions, and help me work out any plot-related struggles i may be having :)

please read all of the text below before sending me an ask

kickoff - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters. read through for clarity & prose. may run by some ideas by the beta readers, but for the most part i have the rest of kickoff set in stone!

in holy matriphony - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters, as well as my upcoming plans for the series. i have most of ihm set in stone as well, but may just need some help with making sure things flow well since the plot's a lil jumbled in my head!

around the clock - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters. i don't really have much planned for this series, so i would like to get some help w planning the rest of it! i anticipate 4ish parts, and i'm really just looking to have some fun w this one :)

if the world was ending - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters. i am kinda struggling with the overall plan i have for this series, as i have the first and last chapters mostly finished, but need help figuring out some of the in between

additionally, all my beta readers will have early access to any other oneshots, drabbles, mini series that i come up with down the line, and can also help me come up with additional plotlines/tropes from the ones i've brainstormed for those more independent works. there won't be any crossover for the series though, meaning that if you've been selected as a beta reader for "in holy matriphony", i won't be sharing drafted chapters/ideas for any of my other series to you

requirements to be a beta reader

must be 18+ years old

must be ok w spoilers for any of my works

must be an active reader of mine

must be proficient in english

must have a discord account

should not be a fellow fanfic author

must not share any of my drafted materials/ideas to others

how to apply

to apply, please first ensure that you satisfy the requirements listed above, and then send me an ask off of anon that answers the questions below (don't worry, i won't be publicly responding to/posting any of the asks to my feed, i just need your username so i can message you!)

i will close applications in 2-3 days!

beta reader application template

list your age:

how long have you been a reader of mine:

rank your preference of fics that you would like to beta read for (for example, kickoff > ihm > atc > itwwe):

for those who have listed "kickoff" or "in holy matriphony" as either your first or second choice, please briefly list 2-3 scenes from each series that are your favorite or were memorable to you (i just wanna make sure you're an active/engaged reader w a good understanding of the plots! the scenes can be briefly listed such as “hotel room scene” for kickoff or “kitchen kiss scene” for ihm. if both series are in your top two, please list scenes for each of them, but if neither are in your top two, then you can ignore this question):

anything else you would like me to know (optional):

please list your discord username:

and that's it! i will message you here on tumblr for further steps :) aaa i hope this is successful hahah and in general i'm really excited to more closely interact w some of you guys :'') i will make a lil discord group for us hehe. tbh getting beta reader(s) has been loooong overdue for me but i'm looking forward to it n think it will be good for me! much love <3 feel free to reach out w any questions :0

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hot car and hot love

John Allerdyce (Pyro) x girlfriend!reader

warning : +18, smut, p in v, oral f reciving, car sex, semi public sex (in the void), fire play, hair pulling, light choking, praise kink no use of Y/n

Summary : There wasn't much to do in the void, waiting for the daily round to look for new food for Alioth. They practiced their skills, avoided Casasandra and well, Pyro and his girlfriend decided to spend the daily tour a little differently, with something more than just the heat of his fire and more with the heat of love and lust.

info : as much as i need sweet fluff from time to time i need something more hotter from time to time so now have fun here and see you next time have a nice day you guys

ps : The gif is from @daisytachi check out her blog

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

There wasn't much to do in the emptiness, you could drive around in a handful of vehicles, you could practice shooting with weapons or train your skills, but most of all you could walk past Cassandra with your eyes down and pray that she wouldn't turn her head in the truest sense of the word.

But otherwise there wasn't much to do in this void let alone at the base of a dead giant or superhero, she didn't know in her universe there was never such a hero or mutant on the contrary her universe was pretty normal except for the fact that the earth was flat and she wanted to look down from the edge but before she could do that she had landed here and had spent most of her life here.

Again this could be seen good or bad but she had met him a few years ago her hope in this nothingness of endless space was John or initially just Pyro.

A teenager her age when they both arrived here, a mutant like her with the powers of fire manipulation while she had the ability of sand creation and guidance which was why the reason she was still alive was thanks to Cassandra, ,,A desert and such a gem don't we need it?" were the bald one's former words when she saw what powers her new recruit held.

But it was also her powers as well as his while they were both still alive, they were some of the strongest mutants here, powerless against her but most of all useful for the Rundafhrten, useful enough not to be killed and to catch that pesky Johnny Storm that Cassandra had been wanting for some time.

So the two hunters and seekers had next to nothing to do under the heat of the sun that was only sporadically covered in clouds, ,,Can't you tame the sun?" she asked as she had a hundred times before, holding a hand to her face as she looked up at the sky. She heard his sigh, but it was followed by a grin.

They both started asking each other stupid questions when they were bored and it was one of those days when there was nothing to do but nothing, ,,Can't you tame the sand? Maybe from my shoes," he replied to her question and rose from the old armchair before the sand rose above the two of them, blocking the sun that would otherwise have come through the perforated ceiling.

Immediately came a satisfied sound from Pyro whose hand lay on hers and he kissed it, ,,Thank you my beloved lady," he quipped before she rolled her eyes and brushed the sand from his body with a hand gesture before she sat down in his chair and started flipping through an old comic book.

Some comics were really good, some were just bad and others had a good flavor but you had to find them in the void first, ,,I don't think anyone new is coming here today," the man mumbled, looking out the window at the desert whose dunes held a few stones and old broken buildings, sometimes dead bodies and sometimes living ones.

Continuing to leaf through the comic, ignoring the dirt on the pages, she let the speech bubbles continue to write further into the story, ,,If you say so," she mumbled dismissively, only half aware of how he was working on new tools for the car while from somewhere in the background someone had once again put on a record and a song echoed through the base.

Even though her eyes went to her boyfriend every now and then, he had taken off his jacket and had a simple top hanging on his body, covered in engine oil and dirt, with wispy, slightly styled hair and a flame that gave him a little more light to be able to see everything properly.

,,Do you want to keep looking? Or get a show? Or something else?" he asked and turned to her, her gaze very much on him, because of course there was always a certain thing to do when you seemed to have too much time on your hands, John stood up, threw the wrench carelessly to one side and walked towards his girlfriend where he sat down on the edge of the chair.

He drew a few circles with his hands on her arm and was slowly taking the comic from her when the door to her room opened and a green mutant jumped in and a tongue grabbed the comic, ,,Cassandra wants to send you two lovebirds on the next patrol…I can come too," he said and withdrew his tongue, catching the lewd look in the orange eyes behind the glasses.

The pair stood up and they walked past their "friend" she smiled at the warning from John, who was once again threatening to turn the green one into a French dish, but they all knew that they would gradually lose their minds here and that they would have to find a way to get under their tongues - they all knew that the long tongue was good for something.

They walked out of the room with a snap of her fingers they heard Mortimer shouting that he had been hit by the sand and cursing after them, but they were already on their way to the vehicles, ,,Someone was really hot," she said, running her fingers over his shoulders and down his arm, watching the still-turned-on look on his face as she sat down in the passenger seat, which was dark leather approved if you ignored the heat, and John continued to watch as he installed the part in the engine.

,,Maybe this patrol will get even hotter without cooking a frog," the taller one replied, throwing himself into the car with her and letting the engine roar to life before the steering wheel turned and the others opened the gate and the car with the faded flames took off into the desert where they would hopefully get more excitement.

Hours had passed, hours in which clouds passed overhead, hours in which the sun seemed to get warmer, hours in which their sand could only give them limited relief, hours in which they actually found a few pieces of equipment, metal replacements and desecrated a few bodies, they were now at the halfway point and decided to take a break under a ledge.

,,Is it worth drinking the soda? Or throw up later?" asked John, taking the warm soda from the car and joining her under the ledge where she had scooped up the sand and the pair sat down on a blanket, ,,Well, when else do you get something sweet?" she replied before the two smiled and risked opening the can and taking a few sips, both faces slightly screwed up at the amount of sugar they were hardly used to but it still tasted pretty good, as good as something could taste here in the void.

The surroundings were fine, there were shadows, the sun was retreating behind clouds, they were far enough away from the base not to be disturbed and yet close enough to be able to call for help, but that was the last thing they wanted.

They had other things to do, the younger one soon watched John move the fireball in his hand with the help of his flamethrower and turn it into her, her image running around, spinning and dancing a little, ,,Someone looks good? Who is she?" she asked, carelessly throwing away her empty can and leaning against the accepted stone, which was the only thing to lean on while she looked at John.

The woman saw this flame in his eyes a way that showed her he was thinking of something special, ,,Well this woman is beautiful, the most beautiful flame I have ever seen, a smile that enchants and a power that is deadly" he described her he could even get the siluette to run to her making the heat so low she barely felt it, she looked into her little image wearing a short dress instead of the heavy clothes.

She created a chair out of sand for her little image and John put the flame on it, ,,But I love deadly, lust just too much for these deadly deeds from burnt to suffocated…say what about you?" he asked and let the flame go out before he also leaned against the stone and looked at his love, who made his image arise out of sand with her hand movement and let the little pyro turn and look at his big image.

She saw Pyro's smile as he looked at this small image of her as she created herself out of sand and let the two of them dance, ,,I see a strong man in whose dark eyes there is always fire, I fly to him like a moth to a flame…he is inviting and makes my body heat up" she said, letting the two small figures of a dance roll on the ground in a heated love making before the sand ungratefully swallowed them up like the void.

She didn't have to look at John to see that there was a slight bulge in his middle, that in this madness the lighting and smothering of bodies was perhaps arousing one a little too much as it should, perhaps it was a cry for help that they had each other no matter what it was, it caused her to move herself and John through the sand into the car, folding the seats back and having John beneath her.

Her hand placed on his chest, clothes coming off one by one, his hands moving against her body, ,,I love you," he said breathlessly through the kiss and a hasty movement as he moved her clothes from her body into the car and onto the ground, warmed by the sun as the wind blew rarely and pleasantly around their bodies.

,,I you even more my hothead" she replied leaning down to him her hand on his torso feeling his rapid heartbeat his own hand grabbing her breast massaging the soft heated skin enjoying her emerging pleasurable sounds he locked her in another kiss.

As the kiss deepened she felt him massage her breasts again while her fingers found their way to John's hair, pulling him away from her every now and then, she saw the lust in his eyes, the brief hiss when she pulled too hard, the cheeky smile on her lips when she let his lips touch her body again only until she tore him away from her again.

,,So teasing, huh?" he asked, his fingers pinching her nipples, a loud yelp coming from her lips as a tingle ran over her body, her fingers clutching at him as she moved her hips slightly, her center trying to get rubbed, hearing his grunt as her center rubbed over his bulge, the more he pinched her sensitive nipples and twisted them slightly, her noises increasing and he kissed her heated skin apologetically.

They both knew that there was much, much time to be had in the void, it was lonely and endless so they didn't mind being in the "public eye" or that the usually strong Pyro could be easily tamed when they were together, a big one could quickly become small with a few gentle gestures, a few sweet words and a little teasing, he was molten coal in her fingers who would do anything for her.

But just as much they both loved it the other way around, his fire spreading its heat, taking her in, hands gripping her body tighter and tighter, leaving marks as hot as fire.

Pyro detached himself from her she settled on the folded seats his kisses up her legs he felt light bites left over them he licked them apologetically her fingernails scratching the leather his other hand buried itself in his hair he pulled lightly, ,,Someone is needy," he winked, kissing the last of her soft thighs before he pushed her legs apart slightly, guiding her a little before she leaned back, moaning as she felt his tongue lick over the sensitive nerve spot.

Her thighs closed around him, the sand around the car shifting from time to time due to her loss of control, Pyro seemingly looking for support as the gasoline from the car ignited and the ball of fire approached her, ,,Burn ah-fuck John…burn me," she mumbled, feeling his fingers tap her thighs, a sign that she shouldn't move.

He wouldn't burn her if she moved, despite her hip movements resembling his rhythm as much as possible, she moaned sweetly and painfully every time the flames reached her skin, muffled by the sand that protected her as soon as she could be harmed, and after a short time there was a burnt smell in the air as the sand slowly turned to molten glass from the hot fire, but it didn't bother either of them.

The pleasurable sensual sounds drowned out this worry and everything else as her fingers clutched his hair tighter and she heard his pleasurable muffled licking and slurping noises as John caught his breath every now and then and they met in a kiss before he found himself between her thighs again.

She could feel his arousal rubbing against her leg again and again, he was hard and as much as she loved his tongue she loved his cock too, ,,J-John I need you now" she breathlessly let out as she let go of him, the man stood up as best the car would allow, his dark eyes following her gaze on his hard cock.

Seeing his smile as he spread his arms invitingly, ,,I need you fucking more" he said just as breathlessly she closed in for another intimate kiss hearing him place himself one last nod between them they parted and she finally felt him inside her the two adults groaned the heat and sultriness of the environment clinging to them making everything even more heated unbearable and erotic.

His thrusts at first were just too considerate as if he was trying to make the situation as sweet as possible but when suddenly her sand closed around his throat out of reflex John's hands closed around hers in the smear of a lash their lips found each other, needy and lustful both gripping tighter and leaving marks as they drove each other harder.

,,Come on, you're a big boy, show me," she challenged him, playing for a moment with a strand of his hair, hearing his giggle which turned into a moan as she wrapped her legs around his hips as he pushed harder and faster, taking it well while praise left her lips as she heard his grunts and moans.

She knew he needed the praise, the twitch of his cock in her cunt was proof of that, but her own clenching and unclenching when his hands released her half tightly and took her breasts roughly gave them exactly what they needed, letting go of each other knowing that it could all be over at any moment.

From praise to moans and grunts, the sounds of them both increasing, she could feel her orgasm coming close the first time so now the tingling increased as her slightly rapid twitching and John's own thrusts became more uncontrolled, ,,I'm going-will fuck…you're so good," she heard his breathless babble nodding only knowing what he meant made him realize it was okay.

The moment passed as John thrust towards his end, she leaned her head against the hot leather as his fingers continued to stroke that little nerve spot before they clung together, moaning and crying out as the orgasm came over them both, holding each other for just one more moment of that brief peace together, he pulled away from her and lay beside her.

She felt his hand warm and covered in silence but comforting on her own as their eyes met and a smile formed on both their lips as they lay in each other's arms for just a moment before they knew they had to go back to avoid losing their heads because they wanted to share moments like this more often than just a few times.

Together under the hot sun of love in the emptiness where they only had each other.

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

@thefandomqueen2882 , @arisja3701 , @paintmekala , @seancekitsch , @oceansrose2002

Thought you all would like it

[taiarchive]

Hearts and Sleeves: William Beckett Interview

30/04/2005 Interview by Nathan Wrann

THE ACADEMY IS... NOT A BUNCH OF JUNKIES!

The first time we saw the The Academy Is... was in New Jersey opening for Something Corporate. It was a few weeks before their debut CD 'Almost Here' hit the street and we were completely blown away. William Beckett has the stage presence of a rock star, the music was right on and the songs, oh the songs are catchy as hell. When we finally got the CD a few weeks later the tunes were still fresh in my and sounded familiar. The Academy Is... came to Hartford, CT to play at the Webster Theater on April 22nd so we took some time to sit down with lead singer, William Beckett and ask him some intimate questions about rumours, regrets and world domination.

Hearts And Sleeves: We're going to do something a little different for this interview. I took one or two lines from each of your songs on Almost Here and have come up with a question inspired by that line. I'm not interested in knowing what the meaning of the lyric is because I think that's for the listener to decide.

William: Okay.

H&S: So we'll go ahead and start. In 'Attention' the line is: 'It's not like it hurts that much anyway.' What hurts you the most?

William: Fear of failure. And failing in anything.

H&S: In 'Season' the lyrics are. 'We're shaping up to be all you wish you could have been.' What do you wish to be?

William: I wish to be someone that people look to are are inspired by and can learn something from as far as what I'm doing with my art. And I'm taking it on a global level. With a lot of the bands that we've toured with and stuff it's very evident that they have sort of a narrow scope and their goals reflect that too. It's like 'dude I'm just touring and drinking and we've screwing girls and it's awesome' So for me I want to use this indie scene as a vehicle, you know. One way to put it is when my parents were younger there were bands like U2 and The Beatles...

H&S: When your parent were younger there was U2? 'cause when I was young was when U2 first came out.

William: My parents are young though. They're like 40.

H&S: I'm 31 so they're 9 years older than me.

Kimberly [H&S Asst Editor]: Oh my God. [ed note: Age sneaks up on you so enjoy it while you can].

William: Like Zed Zeppelin and Pink Floyd and band from their generation that really stood out. Like band that they loved when they were 16 years old and they still love being 40 years old. A band that they can grow with. A band that you can constantly relate to. Those are the bands that end up moving mountains and inspiring nations. And transcend language and transcend sex and age. And transcend social class and things like that. And that's what I want to do.

H&S: A related question then is what do you consider success? But I guess you've pretty much just answered that.

William: It's not a dollar sign for me. But I understand that it's a business and I'm a smart guy and I'm going to make money doing what I love. But there's that ultimate goal at the end of the road and that's that global inspiration.

H&S: In "Slow Down" the line is "Take back everything you've ever said." Have you ever said anything that you want to take back?

William: Ummm. I think at times. For me I'm always honest. I was actually thinking about this a few weeks ago and I wrote it down. I thought it was an interesting thought. Honesty should never be relative but your delivery of it should be. I think that sometimes I've said things to whom­ ever and said things that I could have said differently but there's no use living in the past.

H&S: and another line from "Slow Down": "You kiss me like an over dra­matic actor." Have you ever considered acting?

William: Oh man. Every day. My one big regret from high school was not getting into theater and not getting into musicals and things like that because I think I could have benefited so much more than I did doing nothing.

Kimberly: Teen angst.

William: Yeah right. It's that shitty teen angst.

H&S: I DON'T WANNA JOIN A CLUB!

Kimberly: Try going to Catholic school. You wanna see angst?

William: I used to play baseball and then I stopped playing and I started playing guitar and carrying around a notebook and wearing "emo" glasses and wearing tight pants. And then I was the "gay kid." I was the "gay kid" who went out with all of their ex-girlfriends.

H&S: In "The Phrase That Pays" you sing: "Some things I may have taken for granted again and again." What do you now realize that you have taken for granted in the past?

William: Easily everybody in my life that helped me get to this point. Like my parents and my close, close friends and my girlfriend. I think I take all those people for granted daily. I constantly try to remind myself that while I have this per­sonal goal that's like: "I want to do this, for other people." At the same time I have to acknowledge the balance between this life and life back home with my parents and everyone that I love and everyone who loves me and has always supported me. It's easy to get selfish and get so wrapped up in yourself. When you're so self sufficient as well and you're not de­ pendent on anyone for so long and you've forgotten what it was like to be dependent and how much you need them. So yeah. Everyday.

H&S: "Black Mamba" "We've got one chance to break out and we need it now." How is the record doing?

William: The record is doing great for the short time that it's been out. We wrote the record that we wanted to write and it's honest as hell. Everything about it is hon est as hell. That honesty is sort of permeat­ing throughout the record and permeating throughout the room upstairs [the Webster Theater stage] and throughout the country. It's doing really, really well. We're really happy with how it's building. It's very natural too. We're not shoving radio down your throat. We're not shoving singles down your throat. It's just a really natural, organic growing experience. Kind of like how The Police built from their roots building it slowly with touring and touring and touring.

H&S: I think one of the things that makes your record great is that it's so personal to you because it's auto-bio­ graphical. And that makes it personal to the people who listen to it. In "Skeptics and True Believers" the line is "Don't believe a word you've heard." Have you heard anything lately that you just couldn't believe?

William: Most of the gossip that goes around the Net about our band I cannot believe. There's just crazy, crazy things about us. Like, I don't know, there's just some crazy stuff. Like that we're heroin addicts and-hey you checked! I saw you! You looked! [indicating to his arm]

H&S: No I didn't! But you're so thin.

William: Yeah yeah. Like the Rolling Stones or Scott Weiland.

H&S: Now the rumor's going to be that you're the gay guy that goes out with all the girls.

William: Yeah, right.

H&S: They'll take that one line out of context.

William: Oh man.

H&S: In "Classifieds" there's the line: "He's got a decent voice." So where does your voice come from? You're about 90 pounds and you have this big, operatic, theatrical voice.

William: I don't know. I started singing and playing guitar when I was a sopho­more in high school and I just sat in my room and played and sang. And sang my favorite songs and learned Beach Boys songs and wrote my own songs right away. But I don't know, my voice is a lot different than it was. It was whiney, I was trying to sound like someone else kind of. Then for this new record I just dropped it all and just sang naturally and it just came out really naturally. I study many, many vocalists but I don't try to emulate any of them other than phrasing. Like phrasing that's interesting or certain enunciation. But I don't think too much about it. Just sing and be articulate.

H&S: No formal vocal training?

William: I've done a lot of research on it. I have a vocal Doctor in New York that I went to because I was really sick on the Something Corporate tour. In Jersey I was sick as hell. I had bronchitis so I went to this Doctor and he gave me steroid shots and this crazy shit. But I have a pre-show ritual and I have a vaporizer with this serum so I put a few drops in and I breathe that in.

H&S: I took another line from "Clas­sifieds" "Will you promise yourself this isn't all we've got." Do you have any plans for the next album?

William: The albums been out for what, like a month? And I've written like 13 songs already. Mike, our other writer has written 10 or 11 songs already. So I'm in this crazy zone where I just love song writing. And I'm just studying Simon & Garfunkel and great songsmiths like Don Henley. You listen to his greatest hits and it's like a fuckin' generation… of '80's movies. But they're all great songs. I'm just really, really excited about writing. I'm not even worried about what the next record is going to sound like. These are just acoustic. Like just acoustic songs that are kind of folky. But for the next record I think that we're going to get a little more rock 'n roll.

H&S: As opposed to?

William: This record sort of covers a lot of bases but I want to incorporate more instruments. I want to incorporate piano and perhaps some strings and percussion and shakers and tambourines. Where we can really focus on making great pop songs with this twist of throwback rock 'n roll. I'm so fucking excited to do a new record because we just want to write like a hundred ballads. Like a hundred Rolling Stones rock 'n roll songs. Just awesome in your face and you can just smell the whiskey on the recording. And a hundred songs that are like this record. And you know on this record each song has it's own little feel, like "Black Mamba" has a flamenco feel. I'm just so excited about writing. But we're constantly touring. We're on the road and then after this we're doing support for Mae. Their new record is great and they're incredible live. We're going to like touring for them. And then we're doing a headlining tour out here on the east coast and the mid-west. Like small intimate spaces. And then we're do­ing two weeks of Warped Tour. And then we're talking about doing something in late August and then we're going to Japan in September.

H&S: In "Down and Out" "Always up or down, never down and out." What's a high point in your life?

William: Pretty much performing is the highest point of my life. As well as just overall happiness with my view on the world and my view of things. That's sort of what that song is about. It's about all of the bad things that happen to people, that happen to families, that happen to friends. That happen to loved ones. People die. People get divorced. People get raped and domestically abused. And kids see that. And that's not a good thing. But the whole thing is that if you look at it. I'm trying to look at life in a different way. I use this ex­ercise that I try to do every morning. I try to envision both my creative mind and my perception of the world. Lets say that the back part of your psyche is a dark room and you have this little candle in front of you so your only source of perspective is this 4 or 5 inch bubble in front of you and that's all you're focused on. This goes past your view of the world it goes into a writers view of the word as well. A lot of bad art and bad lyrics are from that candle lit view of the world. They're so wrapped up in themselves that they can't just feel around and feel the wall and find the light switch. And you can flip the switch and the whole room illuminates around you and for me that's the rest of the world and that's all of the bright parts of life. It's ev­erything that's happy. But it's also every­ thing that's not. But with that perspective of the entire world you're taking in every­ thing, not just this isolated microcosm of life. And looking at things less selfishly and that's sort of the way that I try to look at life. Those are the kind of lyrics that I'm writing a lot of now. Less focused on self I guess. But in a way that's sort of thought provoking in a positive way.

H&S: Well I'm sure you have a differ­ent view of the world now than you did when you wrote this album.

William: Totally. I totally do. But it wasn't too far off. I had it. There was an EP that we did before this and it was so self-righ­teous. I was just out of high school.

H&S: One of those things that you're glad to have out of print?

William: Yeah, I guess. Uh Yeah, totally. But lyrically it was really good. I was really proud of it. I was singing about a lot of really good things. But it was from the wrong angle. It was me sitting with a candle in front of me in a dark room. It was: this is what everyone else is doing wrong in their lives but I'm not going to address what I'm doing wrong. Because I don't want to show you that part. It's what people did wrong to me.

H&S: It's hard to admit that shit

William: Right. I think that's what this record is. I think it's stepping into that. But it's okay. It's okay to have faults. It's okay to make mistakes. It's okay to accept those things and take a deep breath and look around you and notice that there's people that love you. And you're on tour with your band and you're doing what you love. Or you wake up and you have 3 kids and they're doing well in school and you have a loving wife and it's like this is good. This is really good. So that's the direction that I want things to continue to go.

H&S: The final song is "Almost Here" the line I chose was "Hey now we're al­ most home" What do you miss the most about home?

William: The weird thing about home is, I hate to do this but you've seen Garden State, right? His whole idea of home isn't a place, it isn't a house anymore it's just a feeling of home. And for me I guess it's just this daily feeling where it's regiment­ ed and I'm used to this but home is when I'm on stage. Home is when I'm talking to people. And talking to fans. That's home to me. I feel it when I'm home as well, you know, in the people around me. I was thinking about that the past 2 days you know, this is home for me. I love it. I mean I miss my girlfriend like hell. I miss my family. But this is home.

H&S: Thank you for taking the time to talk with us and we wish you the best of luck on the road.

[feinv]

omgggggg!! if that’s the case, can i request some headcanons for john wick in his first ever relationship? he’d be a bit awkward but he’d be such a sweetie🥹🥹 -🥮

there is so much i want to say, definitely need to make a proper post! a small nsfw section at the end. enjoy!💌

oh my god. this man. it’s no news to anyone that he is a bit self-conscious and lacks a little confidence, but those would just…WORSEN during his first relationship.

— i mentioned previously that he is not exactly the most experienced guy ever, especially when it comes to romantic relationships. plus his age, this man has no idea what all those bf/gf labels even mean. when is the right time to ask you to be his girlfriend? is it too soon? is it too late? should he make you something big for that proposal? or would it be too vulgar? can he already hold your hand? can he kiss you? he would literally like. stop functioning.

— he would be a nervous wreck because he doesn’t want to scare you off or give the wrong impression: being the gentleman he is, he would ALWAYS hold the doors open for you, but that annoying voice in his head would make him question if his actions imply that you are not capable of doing things on your own? so at first he would be extremely weird and awkward around you, trying to yet figure out how any of this works.

— after a while, though, he just relaxed and let things go by a natural flow, rushing and overthinking wouldn’t do any good to any of you. he also realized that the best way to learn something was to ask. granted he takes the dominant side in the relationship (not in bed, wink wink) and he always initiates dates and such, but he wants you to enjoy your time with him, so he would rather ask once what your favorite places are than waste your evenings on something you don’t want to be doing!

— hate to say it, but his self-consciousness would get in the way of your relationship more than once. he will catch himself on the thought that you deserve someone better, someone more worthy of your love and someone your age, but your reassuring words would always bring him back from those nasty thoughts.

— the first time you two had a sleepover (non-intimate) and he woke up in the morning with your body tightly wrapped around him, he knew he was a goner. there was no way he was letting you go after that, no matter how selfish it sounded in his head.

— he also loves your domestic side!! of course he gets weak in the knees at the sight of you all dressed up looking like a goddess, but nothing could compare to what he felt when he saw you in your simple comfy clothes, with no makeup, hair poking all around like a mess. he is just so infatuated with you and he is so happy you feel comfortable enough around him to be your true natural self <3

— at first his feelings were more of a “loving and protective” towards you, but over the time he also got a bit more possessive of you, not in a weird way, he just can’t bear to lose you.

nsfw.

— he was so so so so scared for your first time together, thinking that he would ruin it. he was always on edge when your fingers would trail lower or kisses would get hungrier, anxiously focusing on your every movement to not miss out on something that would indicate you don’t want to continue this.

— and of course, he would make your first time the most special ever (rose petals and all that stuff, he is an old soul let him be). he would ask you like twenty times “are you okay?” “you want me to stop?” and he would be extra gentle the first time around, drinking in the perfect features of your body and just memorizing what you like or don’t like.

this man. is. a. switch.

— he never really had the opportunity to voice his preferences in bed out loud, so he would be hesitant at first. again, he would be terrified to share some of his kinks with you (especially the ones he wanted to do to you). he wouldn’t openly tell you to be more dominant with him, i think it was something you discovered on your own, along with his kinks, and once you did, he let his guard down and allowed you to do whatever you wanted to him!!

©️feinv, 2024.

[lucysarah-c]

~ Holy Ground ch. 2: We were both young when I first saw you.~

Summary:

"Alright, get comfortable because this is going to be a long, crappy tale. Join me as we travel down memory lane, back when Erwin wasn't yet a commander, when Mike and Nanaba couldn't keep their hands off each other, when Hange was… well, Hange. And Levi? Well, Levi was a twenty-four-year-old man who didn't give a damn about the rules. Are you ready?"

Warnings: This story contains age gaps, time period misogyny and mentions of homophobia, strong and offensive language, underage sex, alcohol, smoking, implied/referenced of drug use. This is a very slow burn so everyhthing takes a while to happen. Explicit sex content. Virginity, loss of virginity, cheating, mentions of cheating, pregnancy but no by the main character, consensual sex, consensual underage sex, underage kissing.

Pairing: Levi x Reader x Erwin. Levi x Reader are end game. (this is not eruri). This story takes place after ACWNR but BEFORE season 1.

-> Masterlist to all the chapters! <-

I won't begin this tale like everyone else, saying, "I will never forget the first time I saw you." That's because I can't recall the exact first time I saw him. However, I do remember the first time I noticed him, and there's a difference between those two actions. Anyway, at first, it wasn't me who noticed him. It was someone else who forced me to search for him in a crowded room.

I was sitting in the mess hall after breakfast with Nanaba. If I remember correctly, we were discussing whether it's acceptable to make out with a guy on the first date. Nanaba, who was in a not-so-secret relationship with Mike at the time, was arguing that you should leave a man wanting more so that he'll come crawling back to you. But let's not dwell on that. What happened next is what we should focus on.

We were both seventeen, such an age to be alive! We weren't cadets, but we weren't superiors either. It was a mix in between that sometimes I wish I could go back to. However, there was a cadet, a young fifteen-year-old girl who joined the Scouts a few months after Levi did, along with the rest of the new cadets. If there was a fan club for Levi, Petra would have been a founding member. Even I, his girlfriend, don't think I worshiped him as much as Petra did. She sat down next to us, sighing loudly and staring dreamily at the ceiling.

"Isn't he perfect?" Petra exclaimed with the voice only a fifteen-year-old girl in love could muster.

"Perfectly short, if you ask me," Nanaba commented, and we chuckled together. "No offense, but Levi is far from perfect for me. On the other hand, Mike is perfect in a human body!"

"With that sorry excuse for a beard? I don't think so," I replied to the tallest woman in our group. "Girls, let's be honest, neither of them comes close to being a perfect man."

"Oh, you two are so mean! (Y/N), did you see him? Isn't he amazing?" Petra questioned, looking into my eyes, searching for an answer to a question she had asked the night before in our shared room.

The night before that morning, Petra had been worshipping Levi so much, and Nanaba had been trying so hard to bring her back down to earth that they asked me what I thought about him. Nanaba knew Levi because he was usually with Erwin, who was usually with Mike, and Mike was usually with her. But for me? The day Levi and his friends were introduced, I had the flu, so I couldn't be there for his "amazing speech."

I had told them that I had never really paid attention to him. He was like a background person in my life at the Scouts' campus. I’d promised them that the next morning, I would make an effort to pay attention to him during breakfast. So, I did. And now I can tell you that the way you look at a person when you're in love is absolutely different from the way you do when you're not in love.

As I mentioned earlier, I remember that morning, the first time I noticed him. His straight, ebony hair flowed in the air. Back then, he used to wear it slightly to the side more often than he does now. Levi never really had a completely middle-parted hair look, but when he was younger, it was more to the side... and he had more hair, but don't tell him that. He was short, too short for a man, but I figured Petra was shorter, so it wasn't much of a problem (she was even a bit taller than me).

What caught my attention was his porcelain pale skin, as if the sun had never touched him (well, I mean, there probably wasn't much sun to soak up underground). I wished I had his skin. His face wasn't the most masculine, but it wasn't feminine either—a perfect middle ground. I suppose some girls are into that. His eyes were sharp and light, but I couldn't discern the specific color from a distance.

I was in the mess hall as he made his way through. Were they blue or grey? Anyway, he was buffed; you could tell by the width of his shoulders (he used to be skinnier than he is now, probably because he didn't eat as well in the underground). I would have continued observing him if he hadn't turned around and locked his dead eyes with mine. Returning to my conversation with my comrades:

"I did indeed," I replied to Petra, and her eyes shone with expectation. "Let me summarize my thoughts: he's not my cup of tea, but if he's yours, go and talk to him. You have nothing to lose by asking."

"Oh, I could never do such a thing! He doesn't like to be bothered," the younger girl of our group said, her cheeks blushing.

"In my opinion, he doesn't like anything. He always has this face that says 'I'm too good for all of you,'" Nanaba said, attempting to imitate Levi's expression, which made me laugh.

I often wonder how things would have turned out if Petra had gone and talked to him. He wasn't my "type," so to speak, and probably would have never been if things hadn't taken the course they did. Life is a whimsical, bratty thing, and I was about to learn that.

Perhaps you didn't have to go through this because your arrival at the Scouts was a bit out of the ordinary, but the training process for cadets is somewhat different. After being part of the Legion for almost two years (like Nanaba and I back then) and just after the new recruits arrived, the one-year training to become a superior began. It involved both physical and theoretical practices. It taught you how to work with a partner and solve the situations you would encounter. Being a superior involved a lot of teamwork, which is why there were two exams: a midterm to assess progress just before the winter break, and a final exam. It probably won't surprise you if I say that Nanaba and I were going to be a team.

Later that day, after our regular instructions, we sat down in the training area, waiting for a superior to call us. I had our forms ready to be handed to my squad leader. Back then, Erwin was my squad leader. He wasn't the commander yet, but his rise was imminent. Nanaba and I were waiting like the rest of the cadets.

"Hey, beauty, your boyfriend is looking for you," Gellar said, approaching us and pointing with his thumb towards the building behind him.

"He's not my boyfriend," I replied wearily, shaking my head, and my long hair swayed.

My blond friend chuckled at my response, and Gellar rolled his eyes. I stood up and walked toward the office of a certain blondie we all know. It used to annoy me to no end that people couldn't stop spreading that silly rumor. "I'm not Erwin's girl! ...yet, at least," I thought back then, little did I know it would never happen.

I strolled through the corridors with the papers tucked under my arm and held my head high, proud to be known as one of the prettiest girls in the Legion. I made a quick stop at the bathroom to check my appearance, making sure my eyes weren't puffy. I pinched my lips and cheeks slightly, giving them a reddish tint. Erwin was at a promising point in his career. He was handsome, young, and smart—everything I could ask for in a man. And I was everything he wanted in a girl… or so he’d said. Sometimes it felt like he truly meant it and others it felt like it was just the silly rumor that people whispered in the corridors. He hated the gossip, he insisted that was the reason it wasn’t official yet. Because it would overshadow his and my promotion. I understood… or so I faked that I did.

Perhaps I was young, but I wasn't naive. I knew how men looked at you when they desired you. And Erwin always seemed to find something in my hair to touch or would run his hand through it. He had a delicate way of saying that my teas were the best around and that's why he always asked me to make them for him. Yes, I was young, but I wasn't foolish.

Innocent little me. You truly think you have everything figured out at 17, you think you know everything. I thought I was smart, sometimes perhaps too much for my own good. Erwin, dear, you make me look so naive. 

"Wait! You and the Commander were a thing?!" The entire Levi's squad screamed, causing me to pause my narration.   "This is the juiciest rumor I've ever heard!" Sasha yelled so loudly that I'm sure the entire Legion heard her.   "Well, as I mentioned, we never became anything in the end. Besides, our flirting died a long time ago, and now we're really good friends," I replied honestly because it's true. There's nothing more than respect and friendship between Erwin and me these days.   But my answer doesn't seem to convince them, and once again, Eren is the first to throw another question.   "Does the Captain know about this?" he asked, suspicion evident in his voice.   "Of course he does! And believe me, he couldn't care less," I replied, amused. But I wonder, is that really true? I mean, if I were to tell Levi, 'Hey, I'm going to stay in Erwin's room because it's bigger and tidier than Hange's,' would he respond with 'Yeah, sure, no problem! Have fun!'? Who am I kidding? Levi would kill both Erwin and me in the process.   "Anyway, this doesn't have a place in this tale, so let's get back to the story," I clarified before they could ask another tricky question.

I knocked on the door with my free hand, while the other one held the forms. That deep, manly voice that I knew so well replied with a simple "Name and business."

"Cadet (L/N) (Y/N)! I was called to come here to deliver my form," I said clearly.

I waited for the response, and once I received it, I entered. There he was, the young and ambitious man that everyone in the military was talking about. Erwin finished signing some paperwork and looked up, meeting my gaze with his big, deep blue eyes. He smiled slightly at me, and of course, I smiled back.

"I was waiting for you, (Y/N)," the blond man said. 'Of course you were,' I thought. "There are some details that we need to discuss. Please have a seat."

So, I did. I walked over to the deep green leather tufted office chair right in front of his desk. I sat down and placed the papers on my lap.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked politely as he got up to serve it, knowing well that I never turned down a good cup of tea.

"Yes, please," I replied, following him with my eyes and offering a slight smile. I attempted to get up from my seat and serve the tea myself, but Erwin stopped me with a hand gesture. Superiors always had more privileges than recruits, and Erwin was no exception.

The single cup of black tea in that office was all I needed—a stronger and tastier flavor than only a good-quality tea could offer. I had always been a smart girl, perhaps too smart for some people's tastes, but I believed it was one of the main reasons Erwin had chosen me. After a few occasions, I noticed that the tea he drank when he was alone wasn't as good as the one he poured when it was for me. There was a slight, uncomfortable silence as we both took the first sip. Right after that, I picked up my papers and placed them on his desk.

"I have already filled in my forms, sir," I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. But what he did next caught me completely off guard. Erwin took the papers and placed them somewhere under his desk.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, intertwining his fingers. "You see, (Y/N), I have been re-reading your academic reports from your training years, and they point out your outstanding performance in teamwork and your ability to naturally encourage cooperation among the practice sessions."

"Thank you?" I replied, uttering the first thing that came to my mind. I didn't know where he was going with all this. I took another sip of my tea.

"Have you ever talked to Levi? He's quite new," he said, adding, "He may not be the most talkative guy around here, but his performance with the 3DMG is outstanding."

'Mr. Grumpy? Of course, I know who he is,' I thought, and the fact that Erwin used the word "outstanding" twice, referring to both of us. I didn't like where this was going. Suddenly, the tea, the office, and the day didn't seem as pleasant anymore.

"Wait! Mr. Grumpy? Seriously?!" Connie exclaims, while the rest of them try to control their laughter.   "Yes, that was his nickname among my close friends for a long time. Sometimes, when I want to annoy him, I bring it back for a couple of hours," I reply with a tender smile on my face. 'Yeah, we used to have silly nicknames for each other… when we used to talk,'

"I have never talked to him, but I don't doubt his capabilities since you personally chose him," I tried to give a neutral answer. I was so nervous that I couldn't take another sip of my tea. What a waste.

"I have been thinking that someone with your good reputation and patience could be a good partner for Levi. He may not have gone through regular training, but the commander and I think it would be beneficial for him to undergo the same training as the other cadets," Erwin's eyes seemed to penetrate my soul as he explained this to me. Did I mention that I didn't like where this was going?

"Um, excuse me, sir. But I already have a partner. Nanaba and I get along, and I think our performance would be splendid," I said, trying to evade his gaze. 'How can I refuse him without disrespecting him? ' My mind raced, desperately seeking possible replies, and I could feel a headache coming on.

"Don't worry about her; Mike has already found her a recruit. I believe pairing my two best cadets to work together would be a step forward for my plan for the Scouts, don't you think?" he said, and I wished I hadn't woken up that day.

'Save your dirty little compliments for later. Your best cadets? Fuck you, Erwin Smith! If this is what your best cadet looks like, then I think I'm failing my next exams,' I wanted to tell him to go to hell so badly, but I knew my position didn't allow it.

Despite all my attempts to change his mind, the blond man pulled out a form that was already halfway filled and placed it in front of me. Then he put a black ink pen beside it, and I felt like crying.

"He said he would be looking forward to working with you," Erwin declared with his perfect smile, knowing he had won the argument. That arrogant smile just made me want to punch him. ‘I adore you but I hate you,’ Perhaps it was the delicate state our relationship was in, that I wasted to make him happy not only as my superior but also as my “situationship” that forced me to agree without further complaints. Perhaps Erwin knew himself that I would have done anything to keep him pleased and that’s why he knew it was an already won battle.

Without knowing that as those papers landed gracefully on top of the oak wood of his desk, the domino effect of him digging his own grave started. 

I think all of you know what happened next—I signed the form. Right after that, I got up without finishing my tea.

"Am I dismissed, sir?" I failed miserably in trying to hide the fact that pure anger was boiling within me. 'How dare he do this to me? He set me up!'

"Don't you want to finish your tea first?" my squad leader asked, pretending not to know the answer.

"I'm not feeling very well, sir. I would like to rest a bit on my bed before dinner," I said, convinced that he was doing this on purpose.

He nodded, signaling that I could leave. I remember walking out of that room, seething with anger, and people in the corridors looked at me like they could barely recognize me

"That's not fair! I can't believe that Mike didn't say a single thing about this. They must have planned it for a long while," Nanaba expressed her frustration to me and Petra.

"Without a doubt, they planned this! How dare they!" I yelled in our shared room, lying on my back on that tiny bed they gave us.

"Maybe he isn't that bad?" Petra said with her usual optimistic personality. But both Nanaba and I looked at her as if to say, "Now is not a good time."

The three of us sighed loudly, tired from this crazy day. As if the training wasn't enough, I had to figure out a way to make things work with Mr. Grumpy. It couldn't be that bad, right? I just needed to go and try to get to know him a little better during dinner. I tried to see the glass as half full, but when I saw him sitting all by himself in the middle of the mess hall during dinner, I knew it wasn't going to work out.

"Good luck, girl. You're going to need it," Nanaba said, patting me on the back. Killing Titans was easier than this.

I took a deep breath and walked toward him, holding my dinner tray with both hands.

"Hey, do you mind if I take a seat?" I tried to be nice as I stood in front of him.

Oh God, do you remember when I told you that I can't recall the first time I saw Levi? Well, I would never forget the look in his grey eyes the moment he looked up at me that night. A shiver ran up my spine, and I had to mentally slap myself to regain my composure.

"May I?" I asked once again.

"Do you see my name on it?" Levi's deep voice echoed in my mind as I tried to understand what his problem was.

Anyways, I sat down because I probably looked like an idiot standing up in the middle of the dining room. I took another deep breath and extended my right hand for him to shake. Levi gazed at my hand as if it were pure poison.

"I'm (Y/N), and I'm looking forward to working with you. Let's get along from now on!" A perfect first impression. I gave him my infallible good-girl smile, but it faded as time passed, and he didn't even move to shake my hand.

"I was surprised to hear that you wanted to work with me, so I guess we'll try to make this work," I added as I withdrew my hand. I nervously tucked my hair behind my ear. 'Please say something!' I pleaded in my mind.

"What?" he asked.

"Erwin assigned us together," I replied. I was sweating so much that I felt like I needed another shower after this.

Silence—uncomfortable silence. Then he covered his face with his pale hand and sighed loudly. 'Someone, please save me.'

"That son of a bitch paired me up with the spoiled brat," Levi's words hit me like a bullet. I sat there, feeling as though it must all be a dream. 'Say something? Forget it! I hope he never opens that mouth again.' I regretted my last thought.

He was mean, he was rude, and every bad adjective you can think of. Why?! Why me?! Petra should have been here, not me. But how could she like him? He was the worst!

Which girl in her right mind would ever want to date him?!

Spoiler alert: Me.

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