#lettin me speak my mind

[burninlovebutler]

I’m hoping the upcoming Priscilla movie is a nuanced depiction of Elvis’s and Priscilla’s relationship. I think it will be based on Sofia Coppola’s interview and the fact Priscilla is an executive producer but who knows. A lot of the Elvis haters are just hoping the movie portrays him as a monster..

oh LORD

[sorry for being so late replying to this lol ily anon - i LOOOOVE people just speaking their mind in my asks, I WELCOME IT]

i think this was in response to the pic of elvis -nate jacobs from euphoria high- presley picture i posted lol

ok buckle up bc i have STRONG feelings

YEAAAAAAH I AGREE tbh i love priscilla but idk. I want to believe that she'll help make it respectable but ya know

(also ???? the fact that she’s still friendly with AUSTIN even tho he KNOWS she’s endorsing this bs ????? weird as hell)

idk why ANNNYYYONE would sign off on JACOB ELORDI as ELVIS AARON PRESLEY i have no fucking clue - that's absolutely insane to me

ESPECIALLY right after austin's elvis??? what agents signed off on that. i truly believe it's going to be a joke -

why would u put on a opening act AFTER the headliner?

i'm hopin and prayin, crossin my fingers n toes that is doesn't portray him as the monster the haters make him out to be

HOWEVER the fact that they did cast jacob makes me think it will portray him poorly, since he is typecasted and does toxic asshole (i.e. nate jacobs) really well sooooooo

depending on how its reviewed/people say i probably wont even watch it tbh lol

i genuinely won’t be able to NOT see him as nate

also the austin / k / jacob / elvis halloween costumes situation really just doesn't sit right with me

(i understand elvis wasn’t a saint ok don’t come at me w that shit)

(also disclaimer i don’t know a lot about the actual production of the movie etc bc it genuinely makes me nauseous so sorry if i’m not educated lol)

[shotmrmiller]

When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.

And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—

"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.

When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"

Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."

The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."

Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.

--

Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.

But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)

His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.

"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."

It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.

And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.

The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.

He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—

And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."

He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.

The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.

He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.

Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.

Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.

Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.

Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.

"Mornin' LT."

A grunt is his only reply.

Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.

"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."

He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."

Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.

"When?"

[starkeyisthelastname]

i just know trailer park rafe looooves making out for hours and eating you out until you can’t remember your name anymore. Do you think he would have a sp*tting kink?

oh yes absolutely all of it. 😩 god this man is nasty

He didn’t know how you did it, but he sure wasn’t complaining. Those delicate little mittens working all day to clean up his filthy trailer that he knew was just going to become a wreck for you to have to pick up again. Or that you had made him a full plate of food with a beer that sat on the banged up coffee table just waiting for him. You still looked so goddamn pretty too, his precious doll that waited on him hand and foot because you wanted to make him happy and show him you could be the perfect little trailer wife he needed.

His plate was cleared, a few beer cans now littered across the table that his long legs rested on. The small living room was dark except for a dim bulb and the static of the old tv playing some shitty old movie. He’d light a cigarette, taking a long drag as he watched you cleaning up the kitchen. He could see right through that little white sundress, still looking like a virgin despite proudly stripping you away from that title.

He was a pleased man that night and he felt like worshipping your sugary self after all you had done. His deep voice would echo off the thin walls, pulling you out of your thoughts as you scrubbed the counter. “C’’mere babydoll, why don’t you give those lil hands a rest?” He said, patting his thigh as an order to come sit in his lap.

He leaned back against the tattered couch, stained wife beater on and with a pair of torn jeans hanging low on his hips. His cigarette hung between his lips, rough hands grabbing your hips to pull you down between his thighs. “You been workin’ hard all day, haven’t ya sweet cheeks?” He would rasp near your ear, smelly nicotine blowing over your frame. You nodded, leaning into his touch his dirty hands ran up and down your body.

It started off with a few pecks, his scruff tickling your baby smooth face as lips teased yours while he still finished his cigarette in between. You’d feel giddy inside, Rafe being the first man your sheltered self had ever kissed. The more whiny you became though, the more possessive he got. Squeezing your ass cheek in his massive palm as he had adjusted you in his lap.

You’d be a couple hours in, tits spilled out of your dress and him shirtless. Your poor little self didn’t know what to do, just letting his tongue shove its way into your mouth over and over until your full lips were swollen. “Mmm.. that’s my pretty baby.” His voice raspy from the long make out session, eyes peering over you like prey. He was longing for a taste of something else, the thought of his tongue on your cunt now invading his mind.

“You wanna know what I really wanna do now?” He asked, thumb slipping between your lips as your desperate little self couldn’t help but rub your bare sex along the crotch of his jeans. You shrugged your shoulders gently, eyes lazy while you sucked on his digit. “I wanna lick your pretty cunt until you can’t take it anymore baby.” He told you, smirk on his face but eyes dark. “Say it. Tell me you want me to lick your cunt.” His words firmer this time.

You didn’t curse, always had been raised to never use foul language despite living in a trailer park. You just couldn’t help but to obey your favorite person, your small voice speaking the unknown words. “I… I want you to l-lick my c-cunt.” You said, voice quiet as you felt a little ashamed. It was enough for Rafe though, nearly growling at the dirty language he teaching you to speak. He’d really test how obedient you were, spitting in your mouth like a whore and closing your jaw shut. “You are so far gone, ain’t ya babydoll? Lettin’ me dirty up your mouth and just fuckin’ takin’ it.”

He’d pick you up with ease, his tall body easily navigating you through the cramped trailer and down the tiny hall to his room. He’d throw you old scratchy mattress, stance still looking huge as he kneeled down. He’d push your dress up, head eagerly finding its way between your plush thighs as he began to eat the sweetest cunt he’d ever been in. You tasted like sugar, leaking all over his tongue and dirty stache as he slurped your folds up messily. He’d watch you try and keep your eyes on him, your soft hand gripping one of the flat pillows he had for support only for your body to fall back with pleasure. You were experiencing a grown man’s mouth on your cunt for the first time and Rafe certainly didn’t play when it came to eating pussy.

“I know babydoll.. feels good don’t it? Keep serving me like a good lil’ trailer park whore and I’ll eat your sweet cunt out as much as you want.” He drawled out between licks, nose buried against your clit to leave you shuddering.

[miyuhpapayuh]

The only one.

Taking her time getting to whoever is banging at her door, she fastens the strap to her block heel and tugs on the bottom of her dress.

“Who the fu– Terry, what the hell are you doing here?” She asks, sucking her teeth as he pushes his way inside her house like he paid bills there. Well— anyway.

“Where you goin’?” He asks, ignoring her question, licking his lips as he takes in how good she looks.

“Uh, I know you heard me ask you something first. What are you doing here?”

“Told you I had plans tonight.” He smirks.

She raises a brow at him, before he continues.

“You're my plans.”

She scoffs, shaking her head.

“Tonight's not your night, dear. I already have plans.”

“Cancel ‘em.”

Ever since her and Terry began having sex with no strings attached, he'd developed a habit of being in her personal space more than necessary, growing a sense of entitlement to her.

It began morphing into jealousy when she began going on dates with other men, an agreement they have.

He began to not know his place anymore, now wanting the only spot in her life.

“Excuse me? Who are you?”

“What's the word you kept lettin' slip from those beautiful lips,” he smiles wider, “daddy, was it?”

Her eyes narrow at him, unknowingly turning him on to the max. He loved pushing her buttons.

“Get out of my house.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Fuck you.” She frustratedly yells.

“You're about to.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Caught between Terry and the edge of the bed, heels still on with her dress bunched around her waist, she cries out at his punishing strokes.

“Fuck me, huh?” He taunts, reveling in the sound of her harsh gasps.

Grabbing the ringing phone off her bed, he smirks at her date calling.

“T-Terry please,” she whines, shaking her head.

Shrugging, he answers it anyway, putting it on speaker.

“Speak,” he lowly speaks, making her groan.

“Hey, you comin’ out? I've been knocking for a few minutes now.”

“I-I'm sorry… I c-can't c-come out,” she grits out, biting into her lip to muffle her moans.

“You're flaking on me? Really?”

“I'm sorry,” she whimpers, “I'm r-really sorry,”

“You sure? You sound kinda occupied to me.” He says, making Terry chuckle behind her and dip into her a bit faster, a light squelch filling the air.

Her mouth falls open but she catches herself, reaching back to push at his thigh, which resulted in her arm being held at her back.

“Tell him you not comin’.” He says into her ear, now rubbing against her spot.

“I'm not comin’,” she whines, unable to hold in her moan that time, making him yell and curse on the other end.

“Say it again, baby.”

“I'm n-not comin’, I'm n-not… fuck, I'm not cominggg,” she yells as Terry finally hangs up the phone and tosses it back on the bed, grabbing the front of her throat as he speeds up, pounding into her.

“Oh my god, Terry, please!”

“Wassup mama?”

“I'm c-cumming!”

“Gimme that shit,” he growls, smacking her ass.

“Ohhh fuck!!” She screams, calling out his name like a prayer as he fucks her through her release.

“Whose pussy is it?”

“Yo— yours, babyyyy!”

“This my pussy,”

“Yes, yes, yes, it's yours!”

“You done with the dates?”

“Yes, yes, I'm done baby,” she nods frantically, “no m-more dates!”

“Lost your fuckin’ mind,” he grits out, smacking her ass again, making her yelp.

“I'm sorry! I'm ss-sorry!”

“Mmh, cum on this dick,” he commands, closing his eyes at the way she tugs on his dick, wetting up his lap with ease.

“Fuuuck,” she pants as he pushes her flat on top of her pillows, still stroking with a point to prove, hitting another sweet spot.

Her words were caught in her throat at the stinging pleasure from every stroke, making her physically shake from the force.

“J-just like… oh, justtt,”

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, gathering her hair up in his hand, tonguing her neck down.

Her fingers latch onto the sheets, damn near pulling them off the corner as he fucks her into oblivion.

“They fuck you like this?”

“No!” She forces out quickly, already knowing he was cheesing wide behind her.

Nobody fucked like Terry.

He was a carnal beast, but also a lover boy. Choke you up and talk you through it, all while kissing you sweetly and singing your praises.

“Hm? Fuck you so good, you scale the walls? Dick you down after a long day? Eat that pussy til you cry? Huh?”

“Nooooo, babyyyy!”

His deep chuckle in response tumbled through her, setting her off once again, leaving her cream behind.

“Look at that,” he smacks her ass, “wet ass pussy,” smacks it again, “cummin’ on my dick.”

“Oh, baby,” she whimpers.

“Keep cummin’, I ain't say stop.”

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

GIBSON GIRL ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩ethel cain — gibson girl ♩

pairing: toxicbf!jj x reader

cw: jealousy, manhandling, exhibitionism, outdoor sex, cnc, degradation, toxic relationship, one spank.

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day four.

you’d liked to think you’d done nothing wrong.

jj knew what you were when he started dating you — friendly, sociable, a party girl, infact you’d even say those were some of the things that drew him to you in the first place.

as you step up to the chateau, having walked there in a pair of sandals that were rubbing your feet just a little too much, and your eyes dry from last nights drinking antics at the kegger — you could already tell jj wasn’t pleased with you from the look on his face.

he’s leaning up against that big tree outside the house, smoking a cigarette. jj was an avid stoner, yes — but he only smoked cigs when he was mad. you sigh, leaves crunching under your tread. in the back of your mind you note the uncharacteristic, slight chill in the air too — an introduction to the muggy autumn weather the obx briefly gets once a year.

“yeah i’m like shocked you even came.” jj calls out before you’re close enough, glancing between you and the cig he was now stomping out beneath his sneaker, twisting his ankle to smush it into the dirt.

“why?” your voice rasps, still that little bit hung over. jj laughs, bitterly and he doesn’t look at you— whipping his hat off and raking a hand through matted blonde hair before shoving it back on. oh, here we go.

“thought you’d like — leave to go fuck some other dude. y’know, seein’ as our relationship just means jack shit to you.” he shrugs like he doesn’t care but the look in his eyes tells you everything.

“what have i done now, jj?” you lean on your hip and he meets you in the middle on the grass, licking over sore, thin red lips.

“so you’re just gonna pretend you weren’t shakin’ your ass for the whole of the cut last night? lettin’ juuuust everyone see up your skirt? you got a man so like, you can’t just act single — i dunno know, that’s just my opinion—”

“you’re mad at me for dancing? at a party?” you step up to him which you know was a mistake as soon as his eyes flutter slightly as he glares down at you, suddenly pinning his mouth shut— jaw slightly clenched.

“yeah you’re right. i’m crazy, huh?” his nostrils flare, eye contact persisting. truthfully, yeah — he was, which is why you struggled to stand on business, not knowing what his next move might be. you shrink a millimetre in stature but you know he notices. “nah, don’t back down now. say it. say m’crazy mama.” he enters your space, filled was rage and smelling like marlboro reds.

“i’m not doing this—” you go to move past him, but he grabs you by the waist, even when you fight. “jj get off!”

“yeah we are, yeah we’re fucking doing this babe—” you speak over eachother frantically as you struggle until he’s wrestled you to the ground on your front, pressing your cheek into the dirt with a hand on the back of your head. you feel those thick cheap rings digging into your skull.

“acting like you don’t like this shit or something.” he scoffs as he straddles the back of your thighs. he’s rough, rougher than usual because there’s real anger behind each move and your heart pounds in your chest. what’s it called when you love someone so much you let them do whatever they want to you? even if it’s not warranted? it seemed like every guy round here was the same. no different from the rafes of the world — just violent and dirty and cruel. yet you couldn’t live without jj.

“jj, you’re — i don’t —”

“you didn’t mind showin’ off infront of everyone last night so you don’t mind if i just take what i want right here, right? nah, course you don’t.” he mutters, not even considering expecting a reply from you as you starts to fight your wriggling hips out of your denim shorts, sliding them down your ass. anyone could come by and see this obscene act, so naturally you felt hot all over and sadly, sickeningly aroused despite the thick knot in your stomach.

“s’not like that.” you whine, tears in your eyes as you turn your head toward the house— coming into direct eye contact with john b, who stood in the window with a mug of coffee.

he wouldn’t admit it, but john b didn’t mind all the borderline violent scuffles that you and jj would get into. bruises on your body from the rough and degrading sex showcased up and down your thighs when you’d lounge on the boat with the pogues, or red scratching of the word ‘MINE’ carved into jj’s back from your fingernails when his insta following would go up. for the most part he figured it was just kinky sex, nothing he wasn’t familiar with — but he had to say, he took a weird sick pride in hearing about you getting punished.

since dating you, you’d eaten up a good chunk of the time john b gets to spend with jj alone. jj used to be down for anything, would drop anything and anyone to be at his best friends side— and maybe john b had been selfish in letting that continue on to the point of expecting it. anytime he’d get time with the blonde, there you’d be nagging at the corners of the conversation or arriving unannounced to start something. it had gotten to the point where he too had began to indulge in violent sexual fantasies toward you, getting his own chance to put you in your place. you’re not one of us, he’d say — because he’s tired of being the kind and mature one.

“jj, j—john b is there you can’t—”

he’s already got your panties down, spreading your folds open to look at you a little too widely to the point you wince, jerking.

“alright and so what, it’s just john b. you didn’t care ‘bout all the extra eyes last night.” he shrugs one shoulder which surprises you. for someone so possessive, he really didn’t care.

when he pushes himself into you, you’re still locking eyes with the brunette through the dusty window. john b was typically courteous and would pretend to look away when jj would get to aggressively fondling you, but now he stares — puppy eyed and unabashed like he was doing nothing wrong, bringing the mug to his lips to take a leisurely sip as his best friend fucks you in the dirt. you even swear you see him shaking his head, all disappointed and dad like.

despite your walls clasping and clenching around jj, your head pounds and eyes burn with humiliation so you continue to squirm. maybe, somewhere deep in your mind you only squirm because you know that jj wants the fight, he wants you to struggle and suffer and pay for what you did. learn a lesson, so he’d say. despite everything, despite this — you just wanted to please him.

“had to make sure no one’s been breakin’ in these pretty tight holes babe, you understand right?” he pants, hands pressing into your back to keep you still. you already know the front of your clothes is ruined with dirt and mud.

you let out a pathetic groaned whimper similar to a ‘hnnnng’ sound as your brows furrow in defeat, eyes dropping to the way john b strains against his shorts, only turning to walk away when you watch him adjust himself. somehow, it makes your cunt flutter more and you wait for the blow of jj’s realisation.

a hard smack on your ass, there it is.

“my god, dude of course you’re gettin’ off on this. i knew you were a slut but jesus, way to prove it to me.”

[spideyhexx]

fem!reader

crying your eyes out over the way you were just treated by your father when he lashed out at the thought of one william bonney. Your father, who deeply hates Billy, but is unaware of your love for the boy and his love for you. His words about Billy wrench at your heart and when you swallow down your courage and voice your opinions in favor of the infamous outlaw, your father berated you harder than he has before. His words were venom and you’ve got a thick skin but his words about how he’s gonna kill Billy, especially and violently more if he saw the outlaw around you, made your heart shatter.

Billy’s finding you in no time soon after it.

Almost like he knew something was going on.

“Hey pretty, ‘re you ready for….,” and he trails off once he gets a clearer look at your face, tears still falling from your eyes, your nose sniffly.

His lips move into a frown and he rushes over, grabbing your face in his hands. Billy’s a little too rough with it but you don’t mind, you actually needed to feel him and his warm, big palms covering your cheeks. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

It’s hard to respond at first since your crying is in full effect. Billy’s brow is furrowed and his jaw clenches. Thoughts race into his mind about the worst possible things that could’ve happened to make his pretty girl cry this much.

“Tell me,” his voice low and firmer than it was before, but his eyes seem to soften when you sniffle.

“N-no, not hurt. My father.” and that’s all you’d have to say for billy to know what you’re getting at. He loosens his hold on your face, rubbing his thumb to catch the tears as they fall slower.

“Oh, honey…listen ‘m gonna figure it out, okay? Even if that means stealin’ you away.”

You let out a breath at that as you try to calm your breathing. “He said he’s gonna kill you,” you whisper and Billy shakes his head almost immediately.

“He ain’t gonna do that. I won’t let him.” You roll your eyes at his words and Billy pats your cheek gently.

“Honey, ‘m serious. I won’t let him,” Billy says, leaning his forehead to yours as he softens his tone, “not lettin’ your father ruin us. I can’t…I can’t,” his voice breaks and you see his nose twitch.

Before you can respond, Billy is pulling you into his arms, embracing you tight. You return it, holding onto him like someone was about to drag him away. Billy presses his nose to your hair, your scent filling him even more than it did before as he kisses your head. “Can’t let you go,” he mumbles, his own eyes watering as he thinks about your father. Thinks about you and how much the world must hate him as hurdles keep being thrown at him.

He even says it to you in that moment, “the world hates me,” and he sniffs, making you pull back just in time to see his tears.

You can’t find the right words, but all you can think to do is press your lips to his, the salty taste of both of your tears lingering on your lips. When you pull away, your lips are still brushing his, his hands finding yours. “I love you, Billy. Even if the world hates you, hates me…I love you.”

He closes his eyes, taking your words. He tilts his head back, looking up at the night sky, scattered stars twinkling above. He makes a silent wish, a promise that he keeps to himself then looks back to you. Billy breathes in and out deeply, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He presses his lips to yours. His lips are chapped and bitten from his own teeth, a nervous habit you’d always remind him of, but he never stopped it. He kisses as though he might break you and while you both yearn for something harder, something more passionate, the gentleness seizes both of you up into platter of love. Billy’s pulling away from you only slightly to gaze into your eyes as he speaks in his entrancing drawl, “and I love you, pretty. More than anyone knows.”

let’s chat about billy, here :)

[moonxytcn]

Hii could you write a gluff/comfort billie x fem reader who is from europe (non english speaking/ dutch speaking but idk if you know dutch so its not that important) and they speak english but have a very obvious accent and is insecure abt it and struggles with pronounciation and like finding the right words and it gets really frustrating for reader? I know this is a very long request and if you don't like write things like this then dont feel bad or anything also i love your writing so much! <3

having an accent sucks

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

Summary – reader is insecure about her accent when speaking English.

warnings – fluffy, more cute content.

word count – 851.

a/n – hello, I hope this is what you wanted when you requested it, thank you very much for that by the way. and this comment about my writing made my heart warm, thank you anon <3

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

This gif isn't mine, I found it on Google

–––

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the room where you were getting ready with Billie, you felt your anxiety growing with each passing second. In a few minutes, you would be heading out to meet Billie's friends, and it would be the first time you'd meet them. You couldn't help but feel nervous. You and Billie had been together for 5 months, having met her parents in the first 3 months of the relationship.

The reason for your nervousness? Simple, you were Dutch, and despite being in the United States for a while, it seemed like your accent had decided to stick with you, and it was very evident when you spoke. This had become an insecurity of yours since with the added accent, you ended up having difficulties with English pronunciation, stumbling over words and always desperately searching for the right one.

Finishing fixing your hair, all your mind could think about was whether Billie's friends would understand you, and if you would embarrass yourself with your awkward pronunciation. There were so many 'what ifs' running through your mind that you had to stop for a moment and catch your breath. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you began to unconsciously murmur words in English to practice pronunciation and avoid embarrassment, trying to imagine how it would sound to someone who had heard English all their life, fearing the judgment that could come, whether verbal or not.

Billie paused for a moment upon hearing a murmur coming from her girl beside her, glancing briefly at her through the mirror and seeing what she already imagined was happening. She always knew that you struggled a bit more than others to learn and speak English. And although she knew you didn't like how you sounded when you spoke, she always found your escaping accent absolutely adorable. She remembers it was the first thing that caught her attention when she heard you ordering coffee in line, she knows very well that's when she fell in love with you, it might as well be love at first sight, if you believe in that.

"Babe." Billie called softly, wrapping her arms around you from behind, looking at you through the mirror.

"Yes?" You answered softly, knowing you were caught and already knowing she knows what you were doing.

"You know you don't need to worry, right? They're my friends, they would never make fun of you if they know what's best for them. And even if they did, I'd be by your side and protect you. Always." She says, looking into your eyes with those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"I know, I just— you know how diff-diff neuken!" You speak, already getting frustrated because you can't pronounce it right again. (neuken - fuck)

"Difficult?" Billie says softly, leaving a light kiss on your neck, you just nod, playing with her fingers that are on your belly. "I know. Believe me. But all I see whenever I hear you speak is how perfect your voice is and your accent just makes you more unique. Love, your accent is the cutest thing ever, I'm serious. Okay?" She says.

You nod, letting a small smile escape. "I think I'm ready to go. Just, promise me you'll stay by my side, always."

"I promise, darling. Always. You don't even need to ask me that." She says turning you and giving you a chaste and soft kiss on your soft lips.

–––

Arriving at the restaurant where Billie arranged to meet her friends, she parks the car and turns to you in the seat and grabs your hand giving it a squeeze to let you know she's here. "Ready?" She asks. You nod and take a deep breath seeing her get out and come to your side to open the door for you. Getting out you go straight into her arms and give her a tight hug, she hugs you with equal force knowing you need it.

"It will be alright, love. I love you." Billie says breaking from the hug and looking into your eyes holding your face with a softness that only she has.

"I love you, so much." You say giving a peck on her lips.

Entering the restaurant you soon find the table where her friends are. Approaching they soon see you. "Hey guys, this is my girlfriend Y/n." She introduces you.

"Hey everyone." You say already noticing your accent is very visible.

–––

Opening the door to the house together with Billie you can't wipe off the huge smile that's plastered on your face. When the door closes you jump into her arms and shower Billie with kisses while the last one becomes a slow and full of love, happiness and affection.

"I'm so happy! I didn't mess up any words today, did you see?" You say excitedly to her. While she can only look at you with adoration in her eyes, mirroring your smile and watching you ramble on about how good the night was, how much you liked her friends, and how happy you were for not messing up anything today.

"I'm proud of you, love." She says softly to you. Stopping your rambling upon hearing this, you look at her for a moment feeling tears of happiness wanting to spill. Closing the distance between you, you hope she understands everything you want to say to her at this moment.

"I love you Billie. God I love you so much, you're an angel in my life." You say softly against her lips, not wanting to separate yet you just grab her like a koala. And she understanding, takes you to the bedroom where she lies on the bed and hugs you as tightly as she can, whispering praises in your ear and saying how proud she is, and happy for you.

[thedemises]

. . .  EH? W- WHAT?! featuring “avatar of greed” mammon!

contains! . . . obey me! shall we date?/obey me! one master to rule them all, mammon being all flustered and stammering, use of nicknames “human” and “mams”, sleepy mc, mc has ram horns (i know that rams are basically adult male sheep but im trying my best to keep this as gender neutral as possible so pls-), mammon being mammon, pretty much no major warnings! :D notes! . . .  this is also a small writing that i scrambled to create at night just like the most recent ace imagine- March 14th, 2024 at 3:08 AM 💀

mammon, the great mammon, the avatar of greed—cannot take this any longer.

while sitting up comfortably in his beloved human’s bed, he finds himself trapped and unable to move with the human clinging on to his back like he’s the tree and they’re the.. koala (from what he remembers, when both of them were comparing the human realm’s animals to the devildom’s creatures).

but also—not to mention... he feels like the side of his cheek is starting to burn aflame by the stare that’s causing it.

now, with the courage he mustered up internally—mammon decides to confront them like he's accusing that they're at fault for something trivially bad. yeah.

“o- oi human... what’cha starin’ at me with that look for?? ”

the words simple slip so easily out of his mouth as the burning grows more prominent and quite warmer when the staring doesn’t stop, more likely directed at his eyes specifically; you can still see his lashes fluttering every time he blinks.

with his gaze now focused on you; your arms drapped over his shoulders in a careless manner but secure enough for him to not shrug you off intentionally (not that he would) and your legs crossed and locked around his waist, your head rested on his shoulder—or your arm—as you stare with a sleepy look in your drooping eyes, like you’re at the brink of giving up staying awake any longer but yet you remain at least half-lidded the entire time.

moving your position slightly, the question he asked has you speaking up a bit. “hmmph...”, a soft hum erupts from your throat, half of your face burrowed within his sweater as you made sure to keep your horns away—sppcifically the tips—to prevent injuring him by total accident, “I don’t know... just.. I like how pretty your eyes appear when you wear those shades. the black ones with an orange golden-like gradient in the lenses. ’ts like a sunset’s reflection on a blue sea, but your eyes are very pretty either way; with or without shades.”

...

...

...

... dammit human....

mammon does not have any idea on how to respond—momentarily frozen with his thumb paused the second before it can touch the screen of his D.D.D. that showed the homepage of Devilgram.

congrats mc, you broke him.

“mams?” your weary voice with a hint of amusement brings mammon’s blue-screen-of-death mind back to the present, following a brief chuckle to escape you. “seems like even the littlest of compliments can make you react like a reindeer caught in the headlights.”

that sentence makes the poor second born sputter and stumble over his words, a dark red-ish flush blooms over his cheeks from embarrassment and being a flustered mess; darkening his skin by the blood rushing to his face.

“we- well, of course you’d see the great mammon in that way! ... no, i am not blushing- it’s just a little hot in ’ere! yer just seein’ things.. and no i ain’t enjoying this at all, human! i’m just lettin’ ya do this because i allow ya to, ’kay?!” despite his denies and protests about ever feeling warm and fuzzy in this moment, you can still tell he’ll treasure this memory a lot in the future.

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own. ━━  word count: 569.

[httpseungmxn]

Sweet as a Peach

Quackity X Fem!Reader

🍬🍡 - fluffy and flirty

Authors Note: Hi My beautiful Angels, today I am back with another Quackity fic. However, this one is a little different because it is a “request” made for @leenthepanda ! who is a dear friend of mine on Twt! She said she didn’t mind what happens, but she wanted them to hold hands! So I will gladly add in some hand holding! This isn’t linked to my mini Quackity series though! Hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!<3

Warnings: Reader is called “hermosa” and “amor”! I think thats about it though!

Triggers: None as far as I’m aware!

Life with the youtuber Quackity was nothing short of exhilarating. Everything he did made life much more exciting. Even if it was just something as small as doing dishes or brushing your teeth. He was always there to make things fun and bring a bright smile to your lips. That was your favorite thing about your lover. How easy it was for him to make you smile when it had been harder for others.  

You had been with Alex longer than you had been with anyone else. It was going on four years now in just two weeks. Your previous relationships had lasted weeks and months, none of them treated you as good as Alex treats you. He was slow and respectful with you in the beginning, only doing what you felt comfortable with. Things changed over the years of your relationship, and your love for each other grew.

Sparks flew everytime the two of you kissed, when you hugged, when he looked at you with eyes of admiration, and when he held your hand. His hand was so much bigger in comparison to yours. Maybe thats why he loved holding it so often. It completely encased yours, and he often spent time just holding yours to his while admiring how small it was. He wasn’t big on PDA, but his hand was always holding yours in public wherever you were.

Even now, as you’re walking out of your shared home, his is grasping yours tight. Bag in his free hand for your special night together. The sun was beginning to set as you made your way to the small hill near the house that had the best view.

A place you both had come to love over the years. The bag was emptied as you set out a blanket to lay on with him as you watched the stars. Snacks and drinks had filled the bag. Chips, snack cakes, candy, fruit, and something you absolutely loved….peach tea.

Alex never understood your obsession with the drink, but it was something that had made him laugh. No matter where you were, you always asked for peach tea, and if you knew it was a place that didn’t have it, you would bring your own.

Alex admired how consistent you were with something so small. You had changed so many things, but never your favorite drink. Even his fans knew of your love for the drink, and were constantly sending packs of it in fanmail.

As you laid on the blanket with him, you went to ask for one of the drinks, “ Hey lex, could you pass me a- “, the drink was already in your view before you could even finish your sentence. “ you know me so well “, “ I really do, you’re very predictable “. Smiling at him lovingly and taking a sip from the tea before looking up to the sky.

Staring at all the beautiful stars in the sky. Managing to point out a constellation to your lover. “ Lex, that reminds me of the beautiful constellation on your face “, “ Amor, you are as sweet as the peach tea you drink “.

Your cheeks were a light tint of red at his words. Having not expected him to say something like that so suddenly, Alex didn’t say things like that often. He was always catching you off guard when he did speak like that though. That must have been why he did it, because he knew you would get startled from it.

Looking back up to the stars and just staring at them in awe while sipping your tea. You could feel alex’s eyes on you though. “ alexis, you’re supposed to be watching the stars, they’re beautiful tonight. “ , “ I can’t help it when I have something so stunning right beside me, hermosa “.

Letting out a squeak at his words and hiding your face with your hands. Your right hand was pulled from your face and held, encased in his. Intertwining your fingers with his and looking over to him lovingly.

He was right, the sky full of beautiful stars was nothing in comparison to the person beside you. Alex had a look to him that was so indescribable. His eyes were such a beautiful dark chocolate color, his smile was quick to warm you up inside, and then there was the beautiful constellation of beauty marks across his face. You had always seen the fans talking about the marks online, but nothing compared to seeing them up close in person. 

Leaning forward, Alex pressed a loving kiss to your lips that was short and sweet. It was enough to give you butterflies and want to look away, but you didn’t dare. His eyes had you in a trance, unable to break eye contact with him. You feared if you looked away, he would disappear and cease to exist in your life.

You didn’t even look away when he smiled and looked to the stars. Just staring at the boy you love oh so much. Smirking when he spoke up to you, his own cheeks dusting red because of your stare. “ you’re supposed to be watching the stars, amor “, “ i can’t help it when the most beautiful man in the world is laid beside me “. Smirk turning to a bright smile when he looks at you again.

Your love for each other was one that was truly one that was written in fairytales, and you wouldn’t want it any different.

Authors ending note; so what did we think? This is my most favorite Quackity fic I’ve written so far! Its so sweet and I feel like its a lot like how Alex would be with his partner. I don’t quite know when my next fic will be out but probably soon since I have a ton of inspiration and motivation right now! I hope you all, and leen, enjoyed this fic! Remember my requests are always open for anything! Until next time, My Angels! 🫶

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 5: I've Never Been a Bad Influence a Day in My Life

You and Joel get closer as you put together your lists. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 4, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Masturbation, fantasy about P in V sex. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

October, 2022

“Why can’t I add to your list?” You pouted a little, can of hard seltzer in your hand as your float drifted to the middle of Joel’s pool. 

“Because you’re gonna just use that power for evil, not good,” Joel replied. 

“Would not!” You shoved off the side of the pool with your foot, floating back toward the middle of the water. 

“Am I allowed to put shit on your list?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet in the water and a beer in his hand. 

You scoffed. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Well, there you go,” he shrugged. “Goes both ways.” 

“You’d be a dick about it!” You kicked the water in his direction but the spray of it fell short and you watched him try to not laugh. “You’d put things on there like ‘buy Joel beer for the rest of his life’ or ‘speak in a bad British accent for a week…’”

“Can you do a good British accent?” He asked, brows raised. 

“That is beside the point.” 

“What are you gonna add to my list, hm?” There was a teasing edge in his voice as he took a sip of beer. “Get a new wardrobe? Get Sarah a dog?” 

“OK, both of those are good additions,” you said, defensive. “But no, not what I was thinking.” 

“Then what, Goldie?” 

“Put in a hot tub,” you said, chin raised. 

He barked a laugh. 

“A hot tub?” 

“A hot tub,” you nodded. “How can I come over to your house and float in the water if it’s too cold to go in the pool? Which it will be in like… a few weeks. You need a hot tub.” 

“It’s already too cold,” he said. “That water’s below 70 degrees, couldn’t pay me to get in there now. Lucky I’m in this far as it is.” 

“See?” You said. “Hot tub.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he shook his head. 

“If your list is shitty can I add to it?” 

“If you actually think my list is shitty we can discuss it,” he said. Your float drifted close to him and you were afraid, for a moment, that he was going to splash you. Instead, he just pushed the edge of it with his foot, sending you drifting back toward the middle of the water. “Still down to compare tomorrow night?” 

“Think so,” you said, taking a sip of your seltzer. “As long as you don’t mock me relentlessly for it.” 

“When do I not mock you relentlessly?” 

“Excellent point,” you said. “I should get better friends.” 

“Probably so.” 

“At least now you come with Sarah,” you sighed dramatically. “So I guess I’ll keep bugging you…” 

“God, you two are gonna kill me,” he said, trying to look serious but a hint of a smile on his lips. “Worst idea I ever had, lettin’ you two get to know each other…” 

You giggled a little at that. You and Sarah had become thick as thieves since you and Joel had reconnected now two weeks ago.

It was hard to believe that he’d only been back in your life less than a month. But then, it was hard to believe he’d ever been out of your life at all. You’d only gone a few days without seeing him since that night at the bar and, on those days, the two of you were almost constantly texting. It was the most natural thing in the world, having your life fall into step alongside Joel’s. It reminded you so much of high school even though you were in your 30s now, your lives moving in parallel until they collided at the end of the day and you came over for dinner or went and cheered on Sarah at her soccer game or Joel showed up at your door with beer. Even after all this time, he just knew you and you just knew him. You could read his posture as easily as a book, instantly knowing the kind of day he had by the way he opened the door or flopped on your couch. He seemed to be able to peer inside your mind on command, just a raised eyebrow or a sigh telling him everything he needed to know about how you were feeling and how to make it better. 

There was one day where you hadn’t intended to see him at all but it’d turned shitty and he just somehow picked up on it from the tone of your texts. New paperwork had come over from Gale’s attorney and you resigned yourself to spending the evening picking over the bones of your marriage with a bottle of wine and a wilted salad - because you definitely didn’t have the emotional energy to go by the grocery store - when Joel texted. It was a meme that you responded to with just an lol before going back to the paperwork. He FaceTimed just 30 seconds later and you frowned, answering it. 

“Hi?” You said brows raised. 

He nodded sagely. 

“What I thought,” he said. “You look like shit.” 

“Gee thanks.” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“For you you look like shit. What’s wrong.” 

You narrowed your eyes and he laughed. 

“What?” He asked

“How can you just tell?” You replied. “It’s weird.” 

“Come over,” he said instead of answering. He flipped his camera around and Sarah made a face, sticking her tongue out, her hair in two springy buns on the top of her head. 

You frowned. 

“Where are you?”

He turned the camera back around.

“Picking up pizza,” he said. “I’ll grab an extra cheese bread, come over.” 

“I’ve been drinking…” 

“We’ll pick you up,” he said. “Come over.” 

“Please?” Sarah jumped to try to get in the frame and Joel laughed, tilting the camera so she was visible. “It’ll be fun! OH! Spend the night! Come sleep over again, please?” 

Joel tilted the camera so he was back in the frame. 

“You really wanna disappoint my kid?” He asked. “C’mon.” 

“Yeah!” Sarah said, bouncing just out of frame again, just a bit of her bun appearing in the bottom corner as she jumped. “Don’t let down the kid, that’s just shitty.” 

“Hey,” Joel said but you could tell he was trying not to smile. She stopped bouncing. “Language.” 

“Sorry.” 

He turned his attention back to you. 

“Be there in 10,” he said. “Can’t let you just sit and wallow. Need pizza for that.” 

He and Sarah picked you up and Sarah insisted on cranking Taylor Swift in the car, signing Look What You Made Me Do into her water bottle in the back seat while you balanced warm pizza boxes on your lap, trying not to laugh when you and Joel exchanged glances at red lights. 

At dinner, you pulled a pepperoni off your slice of pizza and stuck it on the end of your nose and held very serious eye contact with Joel and Sarah as they spoke, nodding along carefully so as to not disturb the topping dangling from your face. Sarah tried very hard not to laugh and did a pretty good job of it until you made a face at her from across the table when Joel’s back was turned and she cackled, laughing so hard she almost knocked over her soda can.

“You bein’ a bad influence on my kid?” He asked when he handed you the paper towel you’d requested.

“Joel,” you said, deathly serious, pepperoni slice still on the tip of your nose. “I’ve never been a bad influence a day in my life.” 

 After dinner, as Joel did the dishes, you sat on the couch with Sarah and listened as she told you about one of her friends at school who hadn’t been as kind lately. You nodded along until Sarah seemed to run out of steam, slumping down against the cushion with a slightly tired look on her face. 

“Well,” you said. “Have you told her that you’ve been feeling hurt by how she’s been treating you lately?” 

She scrunched her face a little. 

“No,” she said. “But I thought that’d be pretty obvious…” 

You shrugged. 

“Sometimes it’s not. She may not even know she’s doing it. If I were you, I’d tell her that you’ve been feeling hurt and ask if she’s doing OK because it sounds like this is a change for her. If she’s hurting you that might be because her feelings are getting hurt somewhere else.” 

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she nodded a little. “That’s a good idea.”

“I do have those occasionally,” you said and she smiled a little at you. 

The three of you watched part of a movie before Sarah went to get ready for bed and you eavesdropped from the living room as Joel read to her in her room, the door opened just enough to hear when his voice changed with the characters. 

“Peeta sighs,” Joel said like Joel before his voice shifted to something that sounded more boyish but still strong and deep, almost what you remembered from when you first met him. You smiled. “'Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping…’”

Joel flopped next to you on the couch when he was done and you held out your glass of wine. He took it, taking a big sip before handing it back. 

“You look tired,” you said, holding the glass. 

He shrugged. 

“No days off from this whole dad thing. Don’t really want a day off but still… get tired after a bit.” He looked over at you and smiled a little. “Thanks for talking with her. Think she needs someone like you around.” 

“Oh, someone who managed to tank her relationship and got stuck starting over in her 30s?” You asked. “That kind of someone?” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“A woman…” 

“Oh, is that all?”

He glared at you. 

“A woman,” he said again. “But one who’s lived some life, knows how to navigate the hard shit. One who’s willing to listen to her problems. She’s got me and Tommy for that but can’t help but feel like I’ve let her down by not giving her some kind of… I don’t fuckin’ know, feminine influence.” 

“Ahh yes, the mysterious feminine,” you nodded sagely. Joel picked up a pillow and smacked you in the stomach with it, making you laugh as you caught it and held it to yourself. “Joel, you’re doing great with her.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, serious now. 

“Yeah,” you said, serious, too. “You really are. She’s so lucky to have you, Joel. You have no idea.” 

“I’m lucky to have her,” he said, looking toward Sarah’s room for a moment before turning back to you. “So, you have the kind of bad day that you want to talk about it or the kind of bad day that you want to get fucked up about it?” 

“The latter.” 

“Then chug that wine,” he said, shoving himself off the couch. “And maybe change into your pajamas, I’m getting the tequila.” 

You swapped numbers with Sarah at breakfast the next day. You and Joel were both hung over and trying to pretend like you hadn’t been up until 2:30 on a work night getting hammered until you passed out in a heap on his couch only to be roused by a groggy Sarah at 7 in the morning. 

She’d taken to texting you then, sometimes just silly selfies, sometimes memes you didn’t really get, sometimes with questions about friends at school. You were pretty sure your heart melted the first time she called you Aunt Goldie, a sense of belonging wrapping around you that you’d never really known before. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Joel asked, eyes following the slow, lazy path your float was making across his pool. “Make a night out of this whole project, kick things off right.” 

“Hell yeah,” you said, drifting back to Joel. He didn’t shove you back out to the water this time. “Did I tell you I’m seeing Anna for lunch? I cannot just go into that blind, I’ll need an out…” 

“She’s doin’ that well, huh?” Joel asked. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “She’s supposedly sticking with her program but… I feel like I should be a better sister and try to check in more but then it just feels like babysitting and that doesn’t seem right, either.” 

“At a certain point, she’s gotta do it on her own,” Joel said. “You’re her sister, not her mom.” 

“I know,” you nodded. “But I feel like I should have checked in on her more after our mom died. She was a teenager and I just left her alone…” 

“You were 20 years old,” Joel said gently. “Not like you were equipped for that shit.” 

You shrugged and took another drink. 

“Hey,” he said, nudging your float gently, just enough to make you look up at him. “Don’t be hard on yourself for that. You were handed a shit situation and you did what you could with it. Trust me, I know.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Ended up in a similar boat with Tommy. Spent years - literal years - bailing his ass out of jail and begging him to get his shit together. Eventually he did a stint in the army and got it figured out. At least a bit. She’ll get there. But it’s not your job to get her there.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You’re probably right.” 

“Who, me?” He asked, mocking. “Right? Never thought I’d see the day…” 

“Shove it,” you splashed at him, the water dripping down his face and soaking his t-shirt. You snorted as you watched him fight the urge to laugh. 

“Gonna pay for that,” he said, setting his beer down on the side of the pool and grabbing your float as you tried to paddle away. 

“No!” You shrieked and laughed, shoving your seltzer into the cupholder as more of you ended up in the cold pool water than you really wanted in your rush to escape. 

“You started it!” Joel was leaning precariously over the water now, trying to splash you again while keeping you from retreating. “Shoulda just kept those little hands to yourself…” 

“They’re not little!” 

He yanked your float back toward the side of the pool and nodded down at one of your hands.

“Freakishly small…” 

“Yours are just freakishly big you mutant!” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and watched as he realized a second too late what was about to happen. 

“Oh shit,” his eyes went wide and you laughed in victory before you pulled him all the way into the pool, jeans and all. He brought you down as he went, the float capsizing and sending you and your mostly empty drink can into the cold water with a sharp yelp. 

You went under, the chlorine stinging your eyes as you twisted and tried to right yourself below the water. You and Joel surfaced at the same time, not even a foot apart and gasping for breath, laughing as you tried to brush your soaked hair back from your face. 

“It’s so cold!” You shivered and splashed at him before crossing your arms tightly over yourself. 

“Why are you complainin’ to me?” He shivered back. “You’re the one who wanted to be in the damn pool…” 

“In the floatie!” You said. “I was mostly dry until you got involved!” 

“Got justice you mean,” he said, reaching for your can and pulling it out of the water, dumping it out before setting it on the side of the pool. “You’re the one who put us in here…” 

“You’re the one who was being mean,” you said, reaching out for him and pressing your cold fingers to his chest, the heat of him still apparent even in the water. You sighed contentedly. “That’s better…” 

“Jesus, what are you, ice?” He griped, tugging you against him with a little yelp. “Gonna fuckin’ freeze to death if you’re not careful… ridiculous…” 

You giggled once but pressed yourself closer to him, soaking up his heat and pressing your cold fingers to his exposed skin. 

“OK, you could be less mean about it,” he said, pulling back from you just enough to scowl down at you. “Frozen fuckin’ hands…” 

You laughed and realized, very suddenly, how close you were to him. You weren’t sure the last time you’d been quite this close to him, the last time you could feel every line of him through his clothes, the last time his mouth had been that close to your own. Your heart sped up. His eyes searched yours and you could feel his breath on your skin and suddenly, you weren’t close enough to him. Not close enough at all. 

“Dad?” Sarah’s groggy voice called from the sliding glass door, making you jump, both of your heads turning toward her. Her face was scrunched and a curl had broken free of its braid, sticking straight out from the side of her head. “Is everything OK?” 

“Course it is, baby girl,” Joel frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be? What are you doin’ out of bed?”  

“You’re being loud,” she groaned. “You’re never loud.”  

“M’sorry kiddo,” Joel said, separating from you and working his way to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out of the water and dripping on the stone edge. “Gimme just a second to get Goldie out of the water before she freezes to death and dry her off, I’ll come tuck you in again in just a minute…” 

“Can I get another chapter?” She said it fast, the words all strung together, her eyes big. “Please? They just got into the arena and…” 

“We’ll see,” he said. “But only because it’s Friday and you’re sleeping over at Emma’s tomorrow so you won’t get one then. Inside, go on.” 

He watched her go and then went to the lounge chair at the side of the pool, getting the only towel he’d brought outside and holding it away from his body, spread open wide. 

“Hurry up, before I change my mind,” he said. 

“Such a gentleman,” you said, trying not to let your teeth chatter and trying to shove the ache that was still growing all hollow and wanting inside you down deep. You got out of the water and he wrapped you tightly in the towel, his arms going tightly around you. 

“Not really,” he said, pulling you back against his broad chest and squeezing you so the water from him soaked into the towel before he shook his shaggy curls over you so drops of water got all over your face as you laughed. “There, cured you of THAT notion…” 

“Thanks so much,” you said wryly as he released you. You turned to face him as he ran his fingers through his soaked hair and his shirt pulled up just enough that you caught a glimpse of the smooth flesh around his hips and you found yourself drifting closer to him again before you stopped yourself. Joel put his arms down and seemed to notice exactly where you were, just looking at you for a moment before he cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“I should go tuck Sarah back in,” he said. “Get into something dry so I don’t get her all soaked…” 

“Right,” you said, stepping back from him. “Sorry we woke your kid up because you just couldn’t leave well enough alone…” 

“I will throw your ass back in that pool,” he said, going to open the door for you. “Don’t try me.” 

“Oh don’t worry Miller,” you teased. “I know just what you’re capable of.” 

He started toward the stairs, a little trail of water in his wake as he went, and you watched the pull of the wet fabric of his shirt over his shoulders. You swallowed, hard.

“I’m just going to head out,” you said and he stopped, turning to frown at you. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Really should go wash this chlorine out of my hair. But see you tomorrow?” 

“With the list?” Joel asked. 

“With the list,” you answered. 

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he said, turning to go up the stairs again before looking back over his shoulder. “Drive safe, Goldie.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just heading for his room. 

Your heart was still racing. 

You left the towel draped over the banister and just pulled on the oversized t-shirt you’d put in your bag before going to your car. 

You tried not to think about Joel as you drove home. 

It didn’t do you any good to think about him that way. It was Joel. He didn’t see you that way, drifting in that direction was what had ruined things so many years before. You’d just gotten him back, things were so good again, you felt like you belonged again, you couldn’t fuck that up, not because you’d never been able to move past a school girl crush. 

But you wanted to kiss him. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him. 

You tried not to think about kissing him. You tried not to think about what happened after the last time you’d kissed him. How quickly everything had dissolved, how you’d gone from picturing a future with Joel - a different one than you’d held in your mind outside of fantasy before - to running as far and as fast as you could in a matter of hours. 

It’s Goldie, he’d said then. It’s the worst thing that could happen, I wish it was anybody else…

You flinched at the memory, shoving it away. No, you didn’t think about that, not when you could help it. Just like you didn’t think about the way Joel’s lips felt against your skin, how his fingers - warm and think - had traced over you, how he made you feel so clearly seen and adored in a way that no one else had before, in a way your husband had never really seemed to. How he still made you feel that way. 

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself as you parked, dropping your head to your steering wheel with a groan before you went in your house, closing your car door with a little too much force. 

You showered and forced yourself to keep your hands away from your aching slit. You were not going to fuck yourself in your bathroom to the idea of sleeping with your best friend. You weren’t. You weren’t a teenager anymore and you weren’t going to act like one. You were better than this.

Your hair was still damp when you gave up on getting any writing or grading done and went to bed, an almost frustrating, throbbing ache between your thighs. You stared at the ceiling in the dark for a while before you all but threw the covers off and rifled through your nightstand for the discreet little pink vibrator you’d bought years ago when you’d first figured out that, while your husband had many talents, making you come wasn’t one of them. 

You went to your usual fallback for porn but didn’t find anything that was really working for you, the ache of longing just getting worse as you gently toyed with your clit under the covers in the dark. Your cunt was slick, your wetness seeping down to your nightie and coating your fingers. It felt like forever that you’d been touching yourself and getting nowhere when the batteries on your vibrator died and you whimpered, kicking your legs down into your mattress in frustration. 

“Goddammit,” you moaned into your pillow, tossing your phone and vibrator aside, the ache in you worse than you’d ever really remembered it being before. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep like this, your whole body drawn tight and needy. You fumbled in your drawer for the charging cable and plugged the vibrator in before sighing and staring up at the ceiling again. 

Your thoughts drifted to Joel again. You couldn’t help it, he’d felt so good against you in the pool. He knew you so well, even after all this time. He kept your favorite snacks at his house and draped a blanket over you when you started getting cold when watching a movie. He was so funny and so handsome it hurt to look at him and he’d felt so fucking good.

Your fingers slipped between your legs again without really thinking about it, brushing against your swollen, sensitive clit. You resisted it for a moment, the idea of falling into the fantasy of you with Joel, but the need drawing everything inside you all tight and molten won. 

It swallowed you quickly once you gave in. 

The memory of him was there at the fore so fast, the way his lips had felt on you so many years ago. How you thought they’d feel against you now. His hands ranged over you, around your waist, down to your hips, his fingers twisting and knotting in the fabric there as he bunched it up to hold you firmer, reach you better. You moaned and rocked into your hand, sliding lower, your palm pressed against your sensitive nub as you slipped a finger inside yourself with a moan. You worked yourself open slowly, your slick making easy work of it, as you imagined it was his hand between your legs, his fingers sinking into you. How he’d take your swimsuit off and line his cock up with your entrance and push inside of you as he moaned your name. How his fingers would grip your flesh, prying at you as though he was trying to take you apart to keep pieces of you for himself. How he’d work himself so deep into you that you were certain no one else had ever come quite so close to climbing into another person’s skin before.  

You rocked your hips against your hand to the thought of him, not sure where memory ended and fantasy began, the fingers not plunging needily into your hole finding their way to your breast, grasping at the soft swell there, your own hand so unsatisfyingly small compared to his. You remembered the way his voice trembled as he breathed your name - his mouth against the tender skin at the base of your ear - as his cock filled you, the whole of him buried inside like he belonged there as he came. 

“Joel!” You gasped as your own orgasm hit, tight channel throbbing around the three fingers you’d managed to fit inside yourself, slick pooling in your palm and your tit filling your other hand. 

You came harder than you had in years, let alone from only using your hand and not your toy. It took you a few minutes to come down from the high of it, indulging in the fantasy of him in a way you hadn’t done since your freshman year of college. He last time you gave into it was back when you’d first started dating Gale but you’d felt so desperately alone, like no one had ever bothered to learn you at all. So you’d let yourself pretend that your best friend was still your best friend, that he loved you the way you loved him and that fucking you hadn’t been some mistake he’d made on prom night. It had seemed the most supreme extravagance, pretending that Joel would have wanted you to come like that with him. It still did. 

You put a stop to all that when Gale proposed, solidifying your relationship in an entirely new way. You tucked the memory of Joel and his body on and within yours away then. You’d never intended to think about him that way again. But then, you’d never intended to get divorced, either. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, shoving yourself out of bed to pee and clean up the mess you’d made of yourself. Before you lay back down, you opened the golden notebook on your bedside table and found the page with the list. You went to the bottom and tried to add another line but the pen in the elastic loop wouldn’t write. You groaned before fishing out the red pen you’d left in your nightstand from a night you were editing in bed from the top drawer. You added two words to the bottom of your list - trying to ignore the way the diamond of your engagement ring caught the light from your lamp, casting little rainbows on the paper - and circled them, pressing the pen into the paper harder than you really needed to. 

“There,” you said, capping the pen and dropping it on the notebook you hadn’t bothered to close. The pen rolled until it came to a stop, the red cap almost pointing to the newly added words as though they needed any more attention. 

That, you thought, was the solution. If you could just figure out how to accomplish that, you could put Joel back in that little box and keep this stupid crush from blowing up your whole life a second time, as long as you weren’t an idiot about it. 

You switched off the lamp and pulled your blankets tightly around yourself, trying to ignore the feeling that the words were glaring at you from their perch on your night stand. They blinked at you like neon behind your eyelids and you tried not to see them in the same way you tried not to think about Joel’s body on yours in the pool as you drifted off to sleep.

Get laid.

Next Chapter

A/N: I just adore these two. Honestly, they keep getting away from me, their conversations are so fun to write and explore that I get lost in what I'm trying to accomplish with a chapter. But that's OK! The ride is the point of this whole fic thing, right?

Thank you for being patient with this chapter! I got a bit sidetracked with another project but I think I'm in a good place to get back to my once a week updates here for a while. I hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait!

Thank you for being here! Love you!!

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 29 - Breathplay

Ghost x Soap - 2.3k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost gets rougher than Soap was ready for, but he finds he doesn't mind. (Johnny POV)

cw: choking someone until they pass out, somnophilia, dubcon because soap doesn't consent previously (but he's into it), light feminization, some degradation, use of the word "pup"

Johnny eyes roll back in his head when Ghost first nails his prostate, the sharp shock of unexpected pleasure sending him reeling. “Fu-fuuck,” he moans, drool falling from his lip.

“Yeah?” Ghost grunts from behind him, hands planted on Johnny’s hips as he angles his thrusts so they all hit Johnny’s prostate, sending the other man into a fit of moans and whines. “That the spot? That what feels good?”

Johnny scoffs as best he can with his mind being fucked from his body, face turned to the side on the sheets so he can catch sight of his Lt out of the corner of his eye. “Obv-obviously, c-cocky bastard.”

Ghost makes a sound that’s nearly a growl at that, ducking down to nip sharply at Johnny’s shoulder and forcing his back into a steeper arch. “Fucking brat. Can’t even speak without stuttering, but you still tryin’ to talk back?”

Soap wants to fight back, wants to push and push and push until Ghost gives him everything he’s got. The thrusts nailing that horribly sensitive spot inside of him leave him wanting to go soft, to lay limp for Ghost to make him feel good, but the parts of his brain that haven’t melted out of his ear yet whisper that he could make Ghost earn it.

So he tries to shove up, even with his arms shaking and moans spilling from his lips. “Some-someone has to d-do it,” he quips, trying to smirk and ending up with more of a half-drunk smile. “Need-need to keep you on your toes, o-old man.”

Ghost snarls at that, but Johnny spots the quick curve to his lips as he ducks lower to growl right in Soap’s ear. “Old man, huh? Doesn’t seem like you mind, moanin’ like a whore beneath me. My cock feel that good in your cunt?”

Johnny’s arms give out beneath him and he collapses back to the bed, eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck, feels-feels so good.”

Ghost laughs above him, a sharp and mean sound. “I can fuckin’ tell, you’re clenched up so tight it’s like you never want me to pull out. That it Johnny? You want to keep me in your cunt for the rest of your life? Never gonna let me go, are you?”

“No-ooo.”

“Tha’s alright,” Ghost rumbles, giving Soap several slow, hard thrusts, pummeling his prostate like it’s a punching bag. “‘M not lettin’ you go either, Johnny. Gonna keep you in bed, just a perfect little cocksleeve for me.”

His plan of riling Ghost up feels so far out of reach with the pleasure drowning him, and he’s left unable to even try and goad Ghost further. Instead he shifts one hand below his body, grips his throbbing cock and gives himself a few rough strokes, biting a pillow to hide his moans.

“What’re you doin’?” Ghost asks, grinding himself deep inside of Johnny and running a hand up and down his spine. “No, no, stop that.” His voice is scolding, and he worms a hand between Johnny’s stomach and the bed to force him to stop jacking himself off.

“Very bad boy, Johnny,” he tsks in what’s probably feigned displeasure, the hand on Johnny’s back moving to grip him by the throat and tug him back. He goes easily, whining at the lack of stimulation as his dick is left bobbing in the air between his legs. He shifts on his knees, pushing back to try and get more of Ghost inside of him, get more of Ghost. “Tryin’ to get your pleasure from somewhere else? C’mon, isn’t my cock enough for you?”

Johnny chokes on a moan, shifting forward just enough to drop himself back down onto Ghost’s hips, trying to get a hand back on his cock. It’s batted away quickly, Ghost wrenching his hand to the small of his back.

“Gimme your other hand, c’mon.”

Johnny groans. “No, Ghost, please… need to get off, c’mon, just let me-”

“Hand, Johnny.”

He listens, puffing a frustrated breath through his teeth as he lets Ghost grip both hands behind his back, the other still collared around his throat. “C’mon, Lt,” he grunts, trying to fuck himself on Ghost’s cock. “Need it, need more.”

“More?” Ghost hums, using the hand around Johnny’s throat to hold him still while he pulls out and forces his way back in, starting a harsh but even pace to try and melt the last parts of Johnny’s brain. “Greedy boy. You’ll take what you’re given and you’ll thank me for it.”

Soap tries to nod, bucking his hips back to try and get more, always more. He can’t manage much but a few aborted thrusts in his position, and his knees spread a bit wider, sinking him a bit lower on the bed. 

Ghost’s hand flexes over his throat, a quick pressure, and Johnny can’t help but keen at the threat.

Simon’s hips pause at the sound, and Johnny can imagine him tilting his head a bit in that annoyingly attractive way he does - like a predator scenting blood. His fingers shift along the column of Johnny’s throat, finding a more secure hold, and gripping.

The noise that rips from Johnny’s throat is half-strangled and half-moan, the lack of airflow sending sparks straight from his brain to his dick. He can’t help but try to thrust into a hand that isn’t there, trying to find any extra stimulation as his eyes flutter shut.

“Like that?” Ghost rumbles, hips rolling slowly in long, deep strokes. “A hand ‘round your throat, cock in your guts? Want me to choke you a bit, Johnny?”

He tries to choke out a yes, can’t manage it with such little air.

“What’s that?” Ghost shakes Johnny’s head by the neck, his eyes trying to open before they shut again. “C’mon, answer me, pup. You like a hand around the throat when you’re gettin’ fucked?”

Johnny nods as much as he can, managing to eek out a noise that sounds like affirmation. It’s the best he can do, and judging by the rumbly laugh over his shoulder it’s enough.

“Alright then.” Ghost pulls his hand away, dropping until his hand wraps around the base of Johnny’s cock, then a little lower to cup his balls. He thrusts a little faster now, starting to really fuck into Soap again. “How about this - you want a hand on your little dick, or a hand around your throat?”

Johnny can hardly think with the dragging against his walls, the stretch in his hole. His mouth is dropped open, little noises forced from him every time Ghost bottoms out. “Please- please, wanna come, Ghost, need it.”

Ghost hooks his chin over Johnny’s shoulder, forcing his back to arch so he’s presenting himself for his fucking. He feels unbalanced, held up only by Simon’s hands, and with one on his cock instead of his neck his top half feels too unstable.

“Soundin’ like a broken record, Johnny. Here, I’ll make it easier for you. One -” his hand wraps securely around Johnny’s balls, massaging them just in time with his thrusts and dragging a long moan from him. “Or two?” He moves back up, wraps his hand back around Soap’s throat and squeezes. His breath is cut off immediately, no matter how much he fights to get a breath in. 

“So? Which one, Johnny?”

He’s given just enough air to breathe back in, eyes flashing open as his vision goes a little hazy. “Tw-Two!”

There’s a pleased rumble over his shoulder, a stroke of a thumb over his Adam’s apple. “Attaboy.”

Ghost doesn’t waste any time - he pushes Johnny forward with the hand at the small of his back, begins to thrust far more quickly, harshly enough that Soap can hear the slap of his balls against his ass, and squeezes his throat tight.

Again, his airflow is cut off immediately. There’s a flash of panic when he’s suddenly incapable of doing something so natural, a privilege taken away that he’d never really thought about. He goes limp almost instantly, leaning further into Ghost’s palm.

“There you go, good boy, Johnny,” Ghost rumbles, squeezing his wrists. He’s panting over Soap’s shoulders as he hammers his way inside the smaller man, each thrust forcing Johnny to try and suck a breath in. 

The suffocation only brings him closer and closer to the edge, his cock red and angry. He can feel it creeping up on him, every second he goes without air bringing him closer and closer to that peak, just out of reach. If he had enough breath to make a sound, he’d whine for more. 

He’s not sure how long it’s been when he starts to panic. His vision goes splotchy, chest tight and almost aching from a prolonged lack of air. Completely against his own will, he starts to thrash in Ghost’s grip.

Simon grunts over his shoulder, muscling him over a bit so that he’s bent in half, held up only by Ghost’s hand and forced to rest his entire weight there. Johnny nearly manages to get his wrists free, but his fight is dwindling quickly.

“Fucking take it,” he hears Ghost snarl, thrusts quickening. “Thought this was what you wanted, pup? Practically begged me to fuckin’ strangle you, so take it.”

He’s- fuck, he’s so close, right there, just on the edge of coming, but he’s not sure he’ll even be conscious to experience it. His vision is almost entirely gone, heart racing as his lungs spams inside his chest. A prickle of true panic grows at the back of his head, something screaming to fight.

But he can’t get free. No matter how much he tries to thrash, Ghost holds him securely and doesn’t slow his hips.

In the end, Soap loses consciousness.

His eyes roll back in his head at a particularly deep thrust, the head of Ghost’s cock nailing his prostate in an almost cruel way. Johnny’s out like a light, the pleasure, the fight, and lack of oxygen finally doing him in.

It’s minutes later when he comes to again, Ghost’s hips grinding against his, his body limp on the mattress.

He groans into the pillow a bit, trying to shift and flinching at the sensitivity of his soft cock against the sheets. He blinks slowly, distantly registering the walls of Ghost’s room when the larger man pulls out.

Soap whines at the feeling of being empty, his hole fluttering around nothing, and Ghost grunts, gives him a sharp tap to the ass.

“You just woke back up and you’re already whinin’ again.”

Soap makes a small, confused sound. “L.t.? Did’ya… did’ya knock me out?”

Ghost hums an affirmative, falling to the bed on his back and contentedly tucking his arms behind his bed. “Sure did. You seemed to like it - milked my cock like a proper whore as soon as you were down.”

Soap shivers at the callous words, winces at the way his cock twitches beneath him. “You kept fucking me?”

Ghost looks at him like he’s insane. “Course I did. You got off, didn’t you? What’ve you got to complain about?”

Johnny’s brows furrow a bit as he scoots closer. He’s glad when Ghost doesn’t shove him away or roll over, allowing Johnny to rest his front to Ghost’s ribs, leaning against him. 

He’s glad he got off. Simon’s fucked him before and left him hanging - sometimes for days on end - and it’s a misery Johnny is never eager to reexperience. But he can’t help but wish he was actually awake to feel his orgasm, instead of passed out and used as a limp body.

Ghost sighs, dropping his arm to lay over Johnny’s shoulders. “I don’t know why you’re pouting, Johnny. D’you rather I didn’t let you come?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “No! Course not, it’s just…”

“Just what? Spit it out, pup.”

He sighs, buries his face into Ghost’s armpit to hide as best he can. “Wanted to feel it, that’s all.”

There’s silence for a minute, then Ghost laughs, low and rumbly. “You wanted to be awake? That’s what this is about?”

Johnny nods, just barely holds back a whine. Ghost sighs, affectionate but aggrieved, and throws his other arm over Johnny, effectively trapping the younger man beneath him.

“Shoulda known. Greedy pup like you, never wanna miss out on anything do you?”

He shakes his head, doesn’t manage to hold back the whine. A hand strokes through his mohawk and he relaxes a little bit further.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, adopting a fake-pitying tone. “You wanted me to choke you, I wasn’t gonna just give you a little scare. Thought you’d appreciate it, way your always begging for more.”

“I do!” Johnny’s quick to correct, tucking his legs between Ghost’s. “I liked it! I just… just wanted to feel myself get off, Sir, that’s all.”

Ghost hums, scratches over his scalp. “Alright, I understand. We’ll see whether or not you deserve it next time, okay, puppy?”

Johnny nods, tucking himself into Ghost as deep as he can, until he’s not sure where his skin ends and Simon’s begins. “Course.”

There’s a sharp tug to his ear, sudden and painful. Johnny can’t help but yelp, looking up at Ghost with wide eyes.

“You forgetting something, Johnny?” Ghost asks, unimpressed.

He racks his brain for any rules he could’ve forgotten, quickly sees his mistake. “Thank you, Sir.”

“For…?”

Johnny swallows, tears his eyes away from Ghost’s. “Thank you for letting me come, Sir. Even if I couldn’t feel it.”

He gets another little tug to his ear for that, but Ghost hums and lets him tuck himself away soon after. They fall asleep just like that, wrapped around each other, both of them warm and sated.

[picklepie888]

Loser, Baby (but it's Garycato)

AVOCATO

So things look bad, and your back's against the wall

The future's dismal and lookin' hopeless

You're feelin' guilty for not making the right calls

It all just seems too much to cope with

You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked

Well, let me just say you're correct

GARY

Wait, what?

AVOCATO

You're a loser, baby

A loser freakin' baby

You're a screwup and an idiot

You're a loser, just like me

You're a wrong call chooser

And an expert self-abuser

You're a former convict in deep conflict

But you got company

There was a time I thought that no one could relate

To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged

But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight!

There's no need to bottle up your baggage

GARY

I've ruined lives

I've dealt too many bad hands

AVOCATO

And you think I couldn't understand?

Get outta here, man!

We're both losers, baby

We're losers, it's okay to think that-

GARY

My best isn't good enough?

AVOCATO

That's good enough for me

GARY

I'm a loser, honey

A sucker and a dummy

But at least I know I'm not alone

AVOCATO

You're a loser

BOTH

Just like me

AVOCATO

I'm well adept at the art of violence

GARY

I'm well adept at the art of silencing the self-restraint part of my mind

AVOCATO

Go ahead baby, sing that song, come on!

GARY

I'm freakin' wreckless to the max core

AVOCATO

I killed the king just to end a farce war

Now my son won't speak to me

BOTH

I'm lost and I don't know what's left to fight for

GARY

You're a loser, baby

AVOCATO

A loser, but just maybe if we

BOTH

Stick close together, things will turn out differently

AVOCATO

It's time to lose your self-loathin'

Your heart's out in the open, baby

Play your card, be who you are

BOTH

A loser, just like me

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Explain!

Hopping on this open tag by @oh-no-another-idea (here)!

Imma go with Liam Steele and Dylan Millihan from What Lurks In The Hollow because that WIP is my new obsession/hyperfixation lmao

Okay, here we go!

LIAM STEELE

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit

It's just one of those days when you don't wanna wake up Everything is fucked, everybody sucks You don't really know why, but you wanna justify Rippin' someone's head off No human contact, and if you interact Your life is on contract Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker! It's just one of those days It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit lettin' shit slip Or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit talkin' that shit

overwhelmed - Royal & The Serpent

What am I feeling? Can't look at the ceiling The light is so bright It's like I'm overheating This mind isn't mine Who am I to judge? Oh I should be fine But it's all too much I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety creeps inside of me Makes it hard to breathe What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety keeps me silent When I try to speak What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed All of these faces Who don't know what space is And crowds are shut down

✨ Quote ✨

Liam fidgeted with his charm bracelet for a moment, in a compulsive, anxious rhythm, before taking a deep breath and closing his hands into fists, glaring at the bullies cluttering the street. "I don't think any of you motherfuckers heard me right, so Imma repeat myself - if you don't let go of that damn kid and get the fuck out of my way, I swear to fucking God I will bash your heads on the curb" He gave them a sharp, almost condescending smile, "And that's mostly because you're making me late for the arcade and I don't like that. Does that sound all good or do you need any more goddamn details?"

DYLAN MILLIHAN

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson

Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be And if I'd end up happy I would pray Trying hard to reach out But when I tried to speak out Felt like no one could hear me Wanted to belong here But something felt so wrong here So I prayed I could breakaway I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change And breakaway

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs

You got a fast car I want a ticket to anywhere Maybe we make a deal Maybe together we can get somewhere Any place is better Starting from zero got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove You got a fast car I got a plan to get us outta here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money Won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living ... So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk City lights lay out before us And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I-I had a feeling that I belonged I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

✨ Quote ✨

"Look, none of us asked for this. But whether we like it or not, we're siblings and we're stuck together. More than ever, unfortunately, as much as I loathe to admit it. So we need to make this" He gestures around them, gaze lingering at the, well, still quite decrepit living room of the house, before settling back on Amy, "work out for us, somehow. And we need to stop being at each other's throats all the time - which, by the way, um, I'm..." It seemed physically difficult for him to say the words that were stuck in his throat, but eventually, he sighed and droned out the phrase, earnestly "...sorry for all the stuff I said. I was just really tired and angry, but I shouldn't have said all of that. None of this mess is your fault, and I don't think you're a bad sister, like at all. You're a great kiddo."

Dylan paused unsure of what to say next, but when he noticed that Amy wasn't frowning or sulking anymore but actually smiling softly in agreement, his uneasiness seemed to fade into what could almost be a smile too. "Anyways, let's cut the emotional crap before I feel sick to my stomach more than I already feel. Do you want some more cereal?"

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery @bookwormclover

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[hear-meout19]

Darling, I don't wish you well when you ain't with me (I want you crying)

{P.1} {P.2} {P.3}

ᴄ.ᴡ. ɴꜱꜰᴡ, ɪɴꜰɪᴅᴇʟɪᴛʏ, ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴏᴠᴇʀ-ꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx, ᴅᴏɢɢʏ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx, ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~They make their way down the street, the cool night air refreshing after the warm and cozy ambiance of the restaurant they had just left. As they approach the bar, she can hear the faint sound of music and laughter coming from inside.

She hesitates for a moment before entering, her conscience speaking louder.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she whispered, feeling guilty and ashamed. "I should probably go home."

His hand rested on her shoulder, his touch reassuring. "Come on, it's just a drink," he urged, a playful glint in his eye. "We've still got plenty of catchin’ up to do, and I'm not lettin’ you go that easily."

Her smile was weak, but genuine, grateful for his encouragement. As they entered the bar, the lively atmosphere enveloped them, with music pulsing and conversations overlapping.

They found a cozy booth tucked away in the corner, and he ordered drinks for them both. As they talked, a growing sense of attraction stirred within her, and she couldn't help but feel a hint of fear at what it might mean.

Her mind was in turmoil, torn between the loyalty she felt towards her husband and the undeniable pull she felt towards Vic. 

But it was getting hard to ignore the chemistry that crackled between them.

Trying to quiet the rising emotions, she downed the drink he handed her in one gulp, hoping to distract herself from the dangerous path her thoughts were taking.

As she pounds back her drink, she nearly spits it out, struggling to keep it down. "Woo!" Her face scrunches up, and she shakes her head. "Stronger than I expected."

Vic laughs in surprise, his eyebrows raised in both amusement and concern. "It's just a bit of vodka, angel," he teases. "Looks like someone can't handle their liquor."

She swats his arm. "Hey, it's been a while!" She reaches over and takes a smaller, slower sip of his drink. "I don't drink often, let me build up my tolerance back up!."

"You don't drink often? I almost couldn't tell," he says sarcastically, maintaining a straight face. She shoves him and rolls her eyes, prompting him to burst into a loud, joyous laugh.

She finds herself unable to tear her eyes away from him, mesmerized by the way he throws his head back as he laughs, his stunning smile lighting up his face.

She looked away quickly, searching for a distraction from that awful train of thought before her eyes landed on the bar. She stands up with a smile.

"Alright then, challenge accepted! Let's have a few more drinks, and then we'll play a little game. Wait right here!," she says with a mischievous grin, wiggling her eyebrows at him before darting off to the bar. She hears him chuckle behind her and knows he's shaking his head at her antics. 

As she walks away, she can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on her, pretending not to notice the way he stares at her ass.

After a few moments, she returns with two more drinks in one hand and a tray of shots in the other.

He looks down at the drinks in front of him and then up at her, waiting for an explanation. She flashes him a quick grin before grabbing her drink and handing him his.

"First, we're going to drink these vodka tonics," she explains, gesturing to the glasses. "Then, we're going to race! There’s seven tequila shots on this tray. Whoever drinks three shots and reaches the seventh wins!"

She claps her hands in excitement, eager to prove him wrong.

With his signature lopsided grin, he stirs his drink and looks at her. "So, whadda I get when I win?" he teases, his eyes sparkling impishly.

She scoffs, settling back down beside him. "If you win," she retorts confidently, a self-assured grin spreading across her face, "you get to pay for these drinks. But when you lose, you'll let me pick up the tab."

He clicks his glass against hers before taking a sip, chuckling. "You're on," he agrees.

They drank their vodka tonics quickly, feeling the warmth spread through their bodies. As she lined up the shot glasses, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous. She had never been good at drinking games, but she wasn't about to let him know that.

Ready?" she asked, looking over at him. He gave her a nod, and she quickly counted down. "Three, two, one, go!"

She can feel his eyes on her as she picks up the first shot glass, feeling the burn of the tequila in her throat as she swallows it down in one gulp. She reaches for the second shot, her hand shaking slightly.

He watches her closely, a knowing smirk on his face. "Careful now," he warns, taking his second shot easily. "Don't wanna burn out too quick."

She ignores him, her competitive streak taking over. She quickly downs the second shot and reaches for the third. She can feel the alcohol hitting her system, making her head spin slightly. But she doesn't slow down, determined to win.

She braces herself and drinks the third shot. Suddenly, she starts to feel dizzy, her vision blurring. She wavers unsteadily, almost dropping the empty shot glass. 

He laughs, grabbing the seventh shot and downing it quickly. "Looks like I win," he said, grinning at her smugly as he wiped his mouth. 

She glared at him, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as the alcohol continued to take its toll on her. "You cheated," she slurred, trying to sit up straight and failing miserably.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I didn't cheat. You're just no good at holding your liquor" he teased.

"I don't believe you," she insisted.

He stifled a laugh and shook his head. "Believe what you want, but I think you've had enough for tonight. Let me get us some water before we get into any trouble."

As she wobbled towards him with a smirk, she whispered in his ear, “I thought you liked trouble, Mr. Chaos”.

As he turns to face her, she realizes how far she's leaned into him and lets out a small, involuntary gasp. He notices and smiles. "That's just how I am around cute girls like you," he says, placing his hand on the cushion behind her.

She laughs and pokes him in the chest playfully. "You always know what to say, charmer." She tries to look away, but he gently grabs her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his once again.

"Just tryin’ to make you feel special, angel," he says, his voice low and husky as he slowly runs his thumb over her lower lip.

Her eyes flickered between his striking blue gaze and his lips, mesmerized by both. "I could get into a lot of trouble if my husband found out I was here with you," she admitted.

He moved his thumb and traced along her jawline, the touch sending shivers down her spine. "Why would he mind?" he asked. "I'm just tryin’ to make sure you have a good time."

She fought to keep her eyes from fluttering shut as his touch grew more tender. "He gets crazy jealous," she breathed.

Vic's smile was warm as he delicately tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "But he doesn't have to know, does he?" he murmured, his breath fanning against her cheek.

Her stomach somersaulted at his words. "I know, but I can't..." Despite her hesitation, she makes no move to pull away from him.

"Then why stop?" Vic urged, his voice low and tempting. "You're clearly enjoyin’ this."

“You’re a bad influence, Victor..” She says, leaning in, leaving only a hair's breadth of distance between their lips.

He smirks, his eyes darkening with desire. "Oh, you have no idea," he replies, his breath hot against her lips as he finally closes the gap between them.

[mooodyblue]

Elvis gets a call from the school that he has to go pick up his daughter because she's dizzy at school and nothing she's done has helped so it's best she go home and either he fights with the colonel in person at the studio or fights with him over the phone as he's going to pick his daughter

I can't get the image of him literally going in in one of his outrageous fur coat to sign his daughter out of the nurses office :( and she's so happy that he was the one to come get her because she understands how busy he is.

I can just see him picking her up to help her so she doesn't fall from being dizzy and she just shoves her head against his shoulder so she doesn't have to look at anything and make the dizziness work and maybe the dizziness causes her to to throw up in the car and she feels so guilty :(

ty for the request !! hope u enjoy ❤️ here's the coat i had in mind when writing this 🫣

wc: 1.1k

masterlist

for elvis, family always came first. that being said, he won't hesitate to stop an entire concert just for his little girl. he coddled her just a bit, but he wanted what was best for her. when she first started school, elvis hated that he couldn't be by her side constantly. he did everything he could to make sure you were treated with respect and treated as a human being, not as how some people treat him, she was just a child and she didn't deserve any of that.

he adjusted to rosie being in school, often spending his time focused on reading or when he has to, his music. as soon as he dropped her off at school today, he headed straight to the studio and had been there ever since. the takes were fine, his voice sounded fine, but of course, not good enough for his manager.

with his hands on his hips and hovering over the piano, looking through lyrics, he sighed. “if he doesn't think the fans are gonna like this then why did he give me the damn lyrics in the first place?” elvis grumbled.

“that's the colonel for ya.” charlie shrugged. “speak of the devil-”

the colonel waltzed in, cigar between his fingers as pointed at elvis. “please go answer the phone, it's been ringing nonstop for the past ten minutes and we need to get back to work.”

elvis raised an eyebrow, “oh, you're lettin’ me answer the phone now? what an honor!” he said sarcastically before leaving the room. he finally answered the phone, a sigh of relief on the other line. his heart dropped the moment the woman on the other line mentioned rosie, automatically going into dad mode. “w-well, is she alright? hell, alright. i’ll come get her, thank you.” he hung the phone up and rubbed his temples, preparing himself for what argument was to come out of leaving the studio early.

he walked back into the room, putting his hand up. “hey-i gotta go pick up rosie from school. she’s not feelin’ great and i don't need her passin’ out in front of everyone. gotta wrap this up.”

his manager stood up, “you have a commitment here.”

“i have a commitment to my family, my daughter comes first.” he said sternly.

he hummed in response, looking around the room and locking eyes with jerry. “why can't you have him pick her up?”

jerry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“because rosie isn’t his daughter, she's mine. now-” elvis slipped on his coat, “‘m not gonna sit here and waste time arguin’ with you instead of being with my girl.”

a few snickers came from around the room, elvis shoved a hand in his pocket. “what? what y'all laughin’ at?”

“are you really gonna show up to your kids’ school in that coat?” jerry laughed.

“what's wrong with the coat? it's cold out!” the coat in question was a white, fur coat that was slightly long. “and…it matches my outfit.” he muttered. “shut up! all of ya! i’m leavin’.”

elvis did in fact show up in the coat, rushing in and to the front office to find rosie. he walked right up to the front desk, tapping his fingers nervously. “i uh-need to pick up rosie, my daughter. the nurse called me?”

everyone in the office stared at him, some whispering and some making excited noises. “oh, you're elvis presley.” the woman at the front desk gasped.

he chuckled, nodding. “that obvious?”

“well…the coat-”

he cleared his throat, “so, rosie..do i sign her out here? where is she?”

she pushed the clipboard closer to him, pointing at the lines. “i’ll go get her, mr.presley.” he gave her a warm smile in response, filling out the small clipboard. he had to wonder if someone would go and rip off that small part with his handwriting on it, he hoped not.

he waited patiently for someone to bring out rosie, glancing around the office and waving to a few kids that passed by. he declined photos but signed a few autographs while waiting, letting people tell their stories about seeing him live, asking about any upcoming shows.

rosie wandered out with the nurse just in time, right when he was about to be asked to perform at the school one day. he turned quickly, crouching down to her level. “hey baby, what's goin’ on?” he frowned, brushing her hair aside and feeling for warmth on her cheeks.

her face lit up slightly at the sight of elvis. “you came?”

“‘course i did. why wouldn't i?” he chuckled.

she ran her hand against the fuzz on his coat, “not busy?”

“always available for my little girl, let's get you home.” he lifted her up, rosie immediately resting her head against the softness of his coat. elvis thanked the nurse and walked out with her head buried in his neck.

“my head hurts.” she complained, getting a queasy feeling in her stomach.

elvis tossed her school bag in the front seat buckled her up in the back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “promise i’ll get ya home as fast as i can. we’ll turn out all the lights, get you some medicine and just sleep it all off. sound good?” rosie nodded, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she closed her eyes.

he drove slow but as fast as he could, making sure to not make her more sick.

“daddy-”

he looked up in the mirror, “we're almost there, goin’ as fast as i can.”

before rosie could say anything else, she hunched over to the seat beside her, getting sick into the seat. her head pounded even more as she laid back into her seat, crying softly. “‘m sorry-”

elvis thanked god it didn't happen on him. it was easier to get vomit out of the backseat than his own clothes. “don't worry about it, it's okay. we're pullin’ up right now.”

“i really didn't mean to.” she sniffled.

“little, it's okay. don't apologize, you can't help it.” he pulled into the gates, parking right in front of the house and helped her out of the car, carrying her inside. “no tears, baby. no cryin’, c'mon.” he took her to the bathroom, setting her on the counter as he wiped her face with a washcloth.

rosie frowned, “i got daddy’s car all dirty.”

“honey, it's just a car. i can clean it up later.” he reassured. he felt her cheeks again, sighing at the warmth. “brush your teeth and i’ll go get your medicine. will taking a nap in daddy’s bed make you feel better?”

her face lit up, “can i?”

“yes ma'am. you'll feel much better after a nap.” he smiled, pinching her cheek. elvis helped her off the counter, letting her brush her teeth while he got her medicine, setting everything up in his bedroom to make her more comfortable.

[princessbrunette]

Dark! Rafe who won’t physically let you leave when you realise he killed sheriff peterkins - 🤍

it makes me giggle when ppl say dark!rafe cos im like skdjdjjs that’s just !rafe

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

you’re scared to leave because you know he’ll flip out, too obsessed with you to let you go. which is why you pack a bag and attempt leave in the night, just for a little while atleast until you can gather your thoughts enough to speak with him. speak some sense into him.

unfortunately, you’re caught in the act in the hallway, bag in hand, trembling with adrenaline. he appears in your line of vision and the both of you freeze, watching his wide eyes in real time analyse the bag in your hand and your demeanour before he stiffens. you shrink, ashamed.

“where… where the hell are you goin’?” he asks, sounding hurt which makes your heart ache, still loving him deeply despite being unable to justify his actions.

“its just for a while rafe, i— i know what you did and i just can’t—”

“you know what i did?” his voice overlaps yours as he walks towards you, squinting and scratching his temple. “what did— what’dido, huh?”

you suck in a deep breath, shaking with tears in your eyes as you gaze up at him. your voice comes out in a mere whisper, as if you were afraid of the words. “you killed sheriff peterkin.”

his face hardens, jaw ticking and he blinks a few times, like he was trying to clear his mind of the memory. “you— you weren’t there. who even told you that?”

“rafe i love you i just don’t know if i can live with a murderer and—”

“hey!” he suddenly barks, making you jump hard enough to drop your bag on the floor. he inhales super hard like he’s trying to hold back his anger before he succumbs to it, arm shooting out to grip you by the neck. oddly, he doesn’t really squeeze— just holds you firmly, dragging you close to him with his teeth grit. “don’t you ever fuckin’ call me that again. who told you that?” he repeats.

you sob, hands clawing at the one wrapped around your neck. “rafe, please! let go, it’s me!”

“was it john b? huh? did he get you too, manipulate you like he did with my sister? lettin’ some dirty pogue kid get in your head? ‘cos— ‘cos he’s got some fuckin’… sick fetish for kook cunt? you packin’ a bag to stay with him, huh?” he kicks your bag by your side and you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut as you snivel.

“no! rafe, it— it wasn’t him— please, you’re scaring me— i don’t like it!” you cry, desperate and rambling. he manhandles you by the throat so that you’re up against the wall, glaring down at you like he hates you.

“you— you don’t like it? you know, what i don’t like is being lied to by my girl, after… after i treat you so good—” he rants, tears welling in his own eyes.

“it was barry! he came round and he told me!” you yell, and he finally relents, letting go and holding his offending palm up in surrender, stepping away to pace the width of the hallway.

you try to cry quietly, as to not bother him further and kneel down to gather the things that spilled from your bag when he kicked it. when you stand again, he’s still deep in thought— muttering to himself about barry being a snitch and you back away, knowing now might be your only chance. you surpass the hallway and book it for the front door, but you know it’s a lost cause when you hear him gaining on you — arm wrapping around your waist and lifting you when you reach the front door, a hand pressing over your mouth to silence your scream as he drags you away.

“i really, really wish you didn’t do that baby. ‘cus now, now i have to act like the bad guy n’lock you away ‘til you calm down.” he carries you towards the cellar, nose twitching in irritation as you thrash in his arms.

he tosses you into the wine cellar, shutting the door behind you and you hear the lock turn, followed by his body leaning against the door.

“rafe, please— please let me out, i’ll- i’ll stay— i’ll be good!” you cry, sucking in panicked breaths.

“don’t you panic on me. breathe. calm down.” he warns you, somewhat soothingly through the door, a lot calmer now he had you locked up. “i’m not goin’ anywhere, just need you to calm down if we are gonna talk about this like adults. yeah?”

you shrink down to the floor, feeling like the furthest thing from an adult— reduced to a scared little girl in his presence as you bring your knees to your chest, trying to breathe slower. “i’m scared.” you hiccup.

“i know, baby. i’m scared too, you know? don’t want you runnin’ off on me ‘cus i made a mistake. never ran off when you made mistakes, did i?” his voice is calm now, the way he spoke to you when you’d get upset. the mistakes you made in the past that he referred to were minute issues, hanging out with the wrong person or coming home past the time he allowed you out — never once as big a deal as killing someone. you weep, wiping your nose on the back of your hand and you hear him sigh. “i’m sorry about upstairs, alright? didn’t mean t’put my hands on you like that. i… i lost my temper… just need you to understand that i did what i did to protect my dad, and id do the same to protect you in a heartbeat. you get that?”

“i wouldn’t want you to.” you shake your head despite him being unable to see you.

“listen to me, killing… is nature. sometimes… sometimes you have to make choices for survival… and that’s what i did. you might not understand now… but you will.”

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖