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mystellenia · 2 months

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romantic tension with abby

summary: in the warm glow of abby's bedroom, after a day of shared hobbies, you contemplate your deepening feelings for her and hope that perhaps she feels the same

content: friends (to lovers???), sfw, literally nothing else

notes: i need to write more fluff bc there is such a shortage AND especially with abby. this is like so domestic like in the way that there's no extra interactions. like this is literally how me and a friend would act after a day of painting!! just sleepy and tired zzzzz

(wc 0.7k)

the setting sun cast an orange glow on abby's bedroom where the two of you lay on her floor, bathing in the heat radiating from her large window. you'd just finished painting birdhouses for the married pair of sparrows that frequented the birdseed abby had set out. they would dance around each other and sing their chirpy harmonies and then take turns pecking at the various seeds from the feeder, so abby thought it necessary to handmake them houses in her shop.

this was one of your many duet activities of abby's "grandma hobbies," as you called them. you two had fed the ducks down at the lake, gone through an entire coloring book, built lego sets, and done nearly a dozen puzzles—one of which was glued and framed in abby's kitchen.

you guys spent every free moment of time together, and counted down the time until you could when one was busy. you were the closest of friends, but lately you found yourself wanting more—or at least thinking about how it would be if you were more. coming home to each other instead of making the fifteen-minute drive any time you wanted to see her. being able to actually tell her when she looked so pretty it made you hold your breath instead of chewing on your lip.

she shifted next to you, bending her legs at the knees and pulling you out of your thoughts. "i should probably wash the brushes before the paint dries on them, right?"

you almost tell her she shouldn't so that you could lay with her a little while longer, but you give in. "yeah, you should."

she sits up to stand, grunting as she lifts her body weight and moving to the crafting cloth where your birdhouses currently sat drying. you sat up and leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she so delicately readjusts the cloth so that it doesn't smudge your paint job.

scrubbing your hands down your face, you push up off the bed and move to grab a sweatshirt of hers to change into, taking your paint-covered tank off and slipping the sweatshirt over your head. it sat baggy on your body with her being bigger than you are just about everywhere, and you threw the hood over your head and dropped onto the right side of her bed.

she returns with her hands patting on her sweats to dry them off. seeing you in the bed, she comes to sit next to you, with you on your back and her laying on her side to face you.

"you wanna just stay the night?" she says, her voice lifting at the end as if it were a question and not a declaration. "it's too late to go home alone."

"yeah, i think i will," you respond. you remember the origami book she bought at the farmer's market last saturday. "only if we make paper cranes until our fingers bleed from paper cuts tomorrow," you grin, turning to look at her and see she's already looking back at you.

"okay. i have lots of band-aids," she jokes.

you chuckle, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, sheepishly smiling at the other while holding eye contact.

"can we also get those berry pastries from the cafe? and make those butterflies we saw on pinterest?" you ask, your cheeks still kissing your eyes.

"yeah, i'll wake up early to get them for breakfast," she nods. "and i only got that book so we can make things together—we can make whatever you want."

in place of a response, you slip your fingers between hers and tightly squeeze her hand, ignoring your frustration with the uncertainty of her feelings for you.

the tip of her nose pinks a bit before she opens her mouth. "good night. we need brain power for making cranes."

you turn onto your side as well to face her, your noses nearly touching. "good night, abby," you grin, high on the feel of her skin on yours and the way she's looking at you.

you fall asleep with a smile on your face because your close friend, abby, may just like you, too.

@picklesarenice69 @abbyandersonsrightbuttcheek

yayyy i’m back :3

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

#mystellenia 𐑂°‧₊#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x y/n #abby x you #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader

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churipu · 4 months

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Hey! May I request headcanons with Choso in which his s/o is like him, half human half cursed. Like their dynamic, if he’s protective, etc.

I also saw no req rules so I apologize in advance if this made you uncomfortable in anyway.

Thank you and have a great day/night🫶

CHOSO + HALF CURSED PARTNER

featuring. choso kamo x reader

warnings. choso and yuuji having sibling dynamics

note. hi anon, so sorry for how late i posted this. and don't worry about the request omg i find myself thinking about this a lot <33 bcs yeah, what if choso has a partner who is half cursed like he is? i hope you like this one! <33

CHOSO is delighted to have a half-human, half-cursed partner like him.

i feel like he's going to be extra protective of you, like he is with yuuji (maybe a tad bit more). since he won't be able to sense if you're in danger or if you're near death like how he could sense his brother's, i feel like he's going to give you extra attention.

"cho, what are you doing?" you found yourself asking him in confusion as he was baby-proofing the whole house.

everything sharp: table edges, counter edges, kitchen island edges, you name them all. choso puts a rubber on the corner so you wouldn't get hurt when he's not there to look after you.

"keeping you safe." he mutters out in concentration, earlier in the day he had asked yuuji for help with these baby-proofing materials — and of course, yuuji thought that both you and choso were having a baby.

in reality, you were the baby.

"but i am safe?"

"not when i'm not around."

i feel like you and choso would have the "dumb" x "dumber" dynamic. since you're both half-human and half-curse (heavy on working as a curse because i could see you both working with mahito and so as a result, you both lose experience on living like a normal human being), yuuji has to keep you both up on what to do sometimes.

"what were you both thinking? she could've called the authorities on us!" yuuji yells out, a little breathless as he had dragged both you and choso out of the park.

"she was being mean to you," you shrugged, looking away.

"it was my fault!" yuuji scratches his head exasperatedly, "i bumped into her and spilled her coffee."

"still, she was mean to you, brother." choso mumbles.

"we were protecting you, yuuji."

yuuji called nobara and megumi for help to look after you both after that.

choso gets angry at anything who tries to harm you. by anything, i mean even dead objects. you accidentally cut yourself with a knife? the next day the knife is no longer there. you accidentally bumped into the door? choso would pick a fight with the door. or if you were walking down the streets with him and a speck of dust makes you sneeze? i swear he fights the air when you're not looking.

"cho, look. i pricked myself," you proudly presented your index finger which was messily wrapped with a bright yellow colored bandage with rabbit motives all around it.

choso's eyes widened slightly, "who did it?"

you blinked at him, "nobody. i accidentally pricked myself with a knife earlier."

choso squints his eyes at you, "which knife was it?"

oh god, please — if he starts asking you those kind of question, tell him a lie that you threw the knife away so he won't have to do it. quick tip: don't tell him it's nothing or you're fine, because i swear choso will throw the whole knife set away behind your back just minutes after.

i could see choso being a touchy bf. so he tries to be as close to you as possible and at all times, holding hands, giving you kisses, your pinkies intertwined, anything, just let him touch you.

"are there any reasons to why you're hogging my lap?" you groan out slightly, a little burdened at the fact choso's whole body is draped across your thighs. face planted down, he's just laying there motionless.

"missed you. so much." he mutters out, his voice coming out muffled as he is laying face down, "miss your pretty face, miss your touch, miss you."

you rolled your eyes, "i was gone for fifteen minutes."

"still. i missed you."

i could also see him as an attention hogger. he wants your attention, and if you give something or someone much more attention than he's giving him, he'll do anything to try to earn your attention back. also, pretty happy when he success (which he does most of the time).

"what's wrong with you?" you ask choso, who has been sitting down, knees pulled to his chest and his face solemn.

"y'don't love me anymore?" he asks back, and you furrowed your brows in confusion to why he came up with that conclusion. no wind, thunder, rain, anything — he just asks about it out of the blue.

"why would you say that?"

"y'don't give me attention anymore." choso concludes, eyeing you and then eyeing the TV that has been on for the past two hours, hogging all your attention, "give me attention too."

he always asks you to style his hair. if you style them with cute pom-pom hairpins, he won't take them off until the end of the day (even if yuuji made fun of him for it). or if you styled his hair unevenly, he'd still leave it at that — he just wants you to style his hair. pronto.

"you kept the rabbit hairpins i used?"

choso nodded his head, "you put them on. i don't want to take them off," you can't help but to smile at him.

"did anyone make fun of you?"

"yuuji was laughing, but i assumed he finds me cute for wearing those hairpins." you chuckled a little in awe as his eyes were shining brightly talking about how yuuji finds him cute.

just, don't say anything about how yuuji was probably poking fun at him for wearing those pins.

gets you hand picked flowers. he reads somewhere once that flowers could make a partner happy — and now he brings you hand picked flowers everyday (he visits the park, finds the prettiest flowers for you and then picked a few before going home).

"flowers." he handed them to you before kicking his shoes off into a random direction.

"oh, thank you. why did you get them?" you ask him.

"because they look pretty, 'n i remembered you."

every single day, it's a different kind of flower. and if he can't find them at the park — don't even be surprised if he actually confessed about picking them from a random person's yard because they're pretty (anything for his partner).

choso loves listening to you talk and your voice in general. he'd rather listen to you talk all day than having to go out on missions, just the thought of hearing your voice makes his stomach flips. when he has to leave for a long time (a couple of hours), whether it being with yuuji or other people — he'd force them to call you so he could listen to your voice.

"hi pretty, i missed your voice."

"did you force yuuji to hand you his phone again?" choso hums, but he sounded like he didn't regret it one bit.

"y/n i swear if he doesn't get a phone, i'll buy it for him myself!" you could hear yuuji complain from the background, and then a few shuffles along with a yelp before choso has to say his goodbyes because of "circumstances" (which was just him giving yuuji a piece of his mind).

"'m gonna be back soon, miss you. i love you. bye." choso hung up, not letting you return his words back.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #jjk choso #kamo choso #jujutsu choso #choso fluff

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

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The Airhead chronicles

…and the run-in.

-> Pairing: Cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> Summary: suggestive themes, cassian getting bricked up bc reader is super cute, reader being an absolute sweetheart, daddy cassian radiating big dick energy. cassian runs into you while he runs errands, peaking his curiosity. he’s determined to find out more about his mysterious mate. what were you doing in velaris and how the hell did she have a house in the most fancy and exclusive neighborhood? cassian himself had been on the waiting list for over 60 years… he asks her out on a date to find out more.

-> Author’s note: This one is my favorite so far, I’m trying to build a mysterious air around reader bc she might not be bright but best believe she’s a baddie. Also if you see any typos, no you didn’t

Part one Part three

Cassian was going insane.

He only knew your name and where you lived and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know everything about you. What made you smile, cry, laugh, pissed off. What kind of food you like, your favorite color - He wanted to know you inside and out.

Your little kiss had left him with a thundering heart and a hard cock. It was a wonder that he didn’t break down your door and storm in just to be in your presence for a few seconds.

He almost felt embarrassed as he stood behind a building, watching you enter the coffee shop across Feyre’s art studio. Cassian wasn’t stalking you or anything, he genuinely happened to spot you strolling through the streets while he was running errands. Panic took over and his first insight was to hide.

The streets of Velaris echoed with the enchanting click of your 5-inch, black platform heels, announcing your arrival. You had such a light around you, smiling at strangers and kids. Your outfit, showcasing a black, sexy yet sophisticated skirt paired with a white top, black sheer tights, and a maroon bag thrown over your shoulder, exuded a captivating sense of style. The only reminiscent element of your previous style Cassian saw that night, was the attention-grabbing almost stripper heels.

Your unconventional fashion choice, though beautiful, set you apart from the usual attire of Night Court women, revealing that you were not a native of this place. What brought you to Velaris? Cassian pondered if your stylish yet professional outfit hinted at a specific job or occupation.

Decided that he wanted some answers, he made his way to the coffee shop. His ears picked up on your sweet voice as it was heard throughout the shop.

“Hi, how are you? Can i please have a caramel latte with extra caramel and whipped cream on top? Okay, thank you!!” You had your hands behind your arms as you hummed a little song. The ring of the door bell caught your attention as you whipped your head to the door, your freshly styled hair swaying. Your heart started beating faster as you saw who walked through the door. Letting out a shriek, you threw yourself in Cassians arms as you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle. “ Hi Cassie!! Whatcha doin here?” His hands tightened around your waist as he smelled your intoxicating perfume when you pressed your soft body against his hard one.

“ Hi there, darling. I was just walking around town and decided to stop for some coffee. What are you doing?” He flipped the question, praying that you wouldn’t sense his lie. Curiously, Cassian also wondered about your destination as you appeared business-ready and on the move. The barista called your name and you skipped over to get your sweet drink. It was honestly a wonder your teeth hadn’t rotted away, you loved eating sweet things. “ I’m just getting a little something to drink. Um, actually, can you hold my drink, I just need to get my money out.” Your painted lips had a cute pout as your brows furrowed in concentration, pulling out your money. “Nonsense, I’ll pay for your drink, since I owe you one, remember.” You looked up at him with big eyes. “ Thanks Cassie, you’re such a nice guy!” He merely laughed, “Paying for a lady’s drink is a standard courtesy, sweetheart.” You smiled and sipped on your drink, blushing furiously.

Oh, he looked so good today. Perhaps because it was night, you didn’t see his face clearly, because he was looking a million times hotter than he did thst night. So ruggedly handsome and manly, ugh you were totally turning into mush…

After paying for your drinks and ordering his own, he opened the door for you and offered you his elbow but you opted to grip his bicep instead. Your stomach flipped as you felt the hard muscle ripple with each step. Wow, he must work out like everyday to look like this. “ Wanna taste my drink, Cassie?” you offered as you pushed the hot drink in his face.

He didn’t have it in him to tell you that he absolutely didn’t drink sweet drinks, in fact he hated them. It was too much sugar and he always stuck to his strict routine and food habits, and you had ordered not only a caramel latte, it was also one with extra caramel and whipped cream on top. Basically death in a cup, a stark contrast from his black coffee.

But Cassian took one look at you and folded. Your eyes had hope in them and he’d rather have his wings shredded than kill that shine. “ Sure, I’ll have some, pretty. “

It was an effort not to make a face as the sickly sweet drink hit his tongue but you seemed so happy and he’d drink the whole thing with no complaints if you’d ask him. Your giggles brought him back from his thoughts as he looked at you curiously.

“Whatcha laughing at? Something on my face?”

You flashed him an adorable smile and said,

” You got some of my lipgloss on your lips, just give me ooooone second. There we go! You looked so silly!” He froze when you took your thumb and wiped away the gloss on his soft lips. His legs felt like jelly when you just grabbed his bicep and dragged him along, telling him about your plans for the day.

Man, you were going to be the death of him.

“You have everything? Or is there something else you need, sweetheart?” Gods, you wanted to plant a fat kiss right ln his lips. Would that be wrong? No, of course not!! Hmm… Maybe at the end of the shopping spree? “ Mhm, I have everything, Cassie,” you coo’d gently, watching as his arms bulged from carrying so many bags.

He had spent the entire day with you, bouncing from store to store. He absolutely didn’t let you pay, insisting that you’d never pay for a single thing in his presence. Carrying your bags was out of the question aswell, he told you to just look pretty and grab his arm, which you didn’t say no to. Finally he escorted you home again, and this time he truly payed attention to where you lived. You lived in a massive townhouse in the nicest neighborhood of Velaris, he was curious on how you managed to snag something like this. These neighborhoods had been incredibly difficult to find houses in, let alone such a fine house such as your own. It made him wonder what you worked with or if you had inherited it somehow.

There was a mysterious air surrounding you that he was just dying to find out about. In his eyes, you were something of a puzzle that needed solving. He recognized the hypocrisy of his statement as he also hadn’t told you much about himself, but he could feel it in his bones that there was more to you.

No, he couldn’t let this be, Cassian wanted to get to know his mate, so he asked you out.

“ Go on a date with me, Y/n. Does tomorrow work for you?” You tilted your head and meekly told him something that made him smile.

”Yay, that sounds so much fun, I’ll be wearing something pink. Hmm, or maybe green… No, no definitely pink! What heels should I wear though?… “ Cassian felt his heart beating faster as his cheeks heated. You stood infront of your stairs as you pondered over what hairstyle you were going to pick.

He stepped closer, towering over you as you felt his heat radiating from his chest. “I’ll pick you up at 8, be ready by then sweetheart.” Cassian was hit by deja vu as you once again stood on your tippy toes and gave his cheek a kiss, leaving a lipstain print on his cheek. “ Can’t wait, Cassie!! See you tomorrow.”

He gave your forehead a kiss, right by your hairline as he got a wiff of your shampoo. You smelt heavenly and he didn’t want to let you go. But it was only until tomorrow evening and if he didn’t have the power to wait until then, then he had some serious issues. “ It’s a date then, pretty girl.” He watched as you smiled at him before skipping inside and locking your door.

Cassian felt your excitement through the bond, and felt happier than he had in a long time. He simply couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

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laniluvsuu · 9 months

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Water.

Idk how I feel abt this. Didn’t proofread..

Coworker Eren! X Coworker Blackfemreader

You and Eren have been competing in sales for the opening boss position of the company you two worked at. And couple days ago Eren got the position. You were upset it wasn’t you, but couldn’t be that upset because he did get just a little more sales than you.

Of course Eren was being an ass about it, right after he got the position he ran to your office saying “you tried…you really did, but we both knew I would come on top.” And after he said that he ran back to his office, leaving you with an annoyed expression on your face. And to top that off he’s throwing a big ass pool party at his house for celebration. You weren’t planning on going until your best friends wanted you to go. They called it “Our excuse to get cute.” It was that an another excuse to see your other coworkers they found attractive.

Now you’re getting ready putting your freshly straightened hair into a claw clip, and then putting on your pink cover up skirt that slightly covered your pink bikini’s bottom. You then put on your white slides, that showcased your white painted toe nails.

“Y/NNNN!!! Let’s goooo!” Your friend Sasha yelled out praying you were done and ready to go now. You grabbed the rest of your belongings and made your way down the steps where you met your friends. “Alright come on, since y’all wanna go so damn bad.” You said playfully rolling your eyes while leaving your apartment and locking it behind you once everyone was out.

You mentally sighed once y’all pulled up, seeing how many people were there. “Damn. This shit is packed.” You heard Mikasa say behind you as y’all knocked on his front door. Your other coworker Connie opened the door greeting y’all with hugs before letting y’all in.

As you walked around you saw little to no familiar faces, except some of your coworkers and the girls you came with. And then you saw him. You honestly didn’t feel like talking to him, didn’t wanna hear any more of his asshole remarks. So you walked out to the pool area and sat by your self for a little before you decided to go back in.

“I didn’t think you would show up.” You heard from behind you as you got up from your spot infront of the pool.

“And why is that Eren?” You asked turning around to face him. He was shirtless with his black swim shorts on. You saw some tattoos splattered all over his chest. His hair was up in his usual bun, he looked good you couldn’t lie. He was still an asshole though.

He ignored your question bc the answer was obvious. He just stood there taking your appearance in, Eren was so attracted to you. He loved the way your pink bikini’s color looked so good on your skin, the way it hugged your curves. Even the cute small tattoos and belly piercing on your body. But the thing that caught his attention the most was the word “tsunami” tattooed on your lower stomach.

“Why tsunami?” He asked walking a bit closer to you. Watching you take in his question, he knew exactly what it meant, just wanted to play with you. He thought you were gonna give him some smart ass response in return. But you didn’t instead you tilted your head slightly to the side narrowed you eyes and looked up at him since he was closer than before.

“Why? You wanna find out?” You said as you smirked watching his face turn up into a surprised expression but nonetheless Eren nodded his head and lead you to his bedroom threw the big crowd of people that attended his party.

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not-neverland06 · 2 months

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One More Spring

One-shot

Tagging: @dumblittlebunbun bc you’d commented on a previous slasher post

Bo Sinclair x fem!reader A/N: This was a strange little Drabble I came up with when I was experimenting with a different writing style. Summary: You only have one wish, to make it to one more spring in Ambrose. You know that the women don’t last long, used and tossed aside, you don’t have big hopes. Just one last prayer.

You could always tell what kind of day it would be by how the door closed. Maybe it was because you’d grown up with strict parents, but you could read a mood based off their footsteps.

For now, you felt comfortable and remained lounged on your crappy lawn chair, trying to get some sun back on your legs after winter. The screen door closed lightly behind Bo as his heavy boots made their way to you.

You didn’t bother lifting your sunglasses as you felt him hovering over you. “What’re you doing?” His voice was gruff and he sounded like he was panting.

“Trying to get some color back.”

You could hear him scoff and glanced to the side to see him stealing a swig from your beer. “Don’t have better things to be doing?”

“Like what?” You snarked, rolling over and huffing when his eyes immediately went to your ass. Probably a good thing you chose a skimpy pair of bottoms, he was always more agreeable when he was horny. “Playing housewife?”

He chuckled under his breath, kneeling down beside you and flicking your sunglasses up. “Yeah, maybe.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hands away. You propped your head up on your arms and glared at him. “I’ll put on an apron for you later, for now, buzz off.”

He shook his head and stood up. “Don’t know where all this attitude came from.” You yelped as his hand came down on your ass. He laughed loudly, walking away much too smug for your liking. “Better not be a damn thing under that apron later!” He shouted as he went back into the house.

You looked up to tell him off and finally caught a glimpse of his coveralls. Blood coated the bottom of his pants and you shrank back into your chair. You put your head back down on your arms, closing your eyes and ignoring the way your stomach twinged in anxiety.

As requested, you’d made dinner in an apron and nothing else. Bo had subsequently banished Vincent from the kitchen. You’d felt bad when you’d woken up in the morning, you hadn’t gotten a chance to slip him any food. You’d passed out pretty much the second Bo was done with you.

Your eyes darted to the bloody coveralls on your bathroom floor. You sighed, legs aching as you got off the bed. You collected his dirtied uniform and the laundry basket and made your way downstairs.

You got started on the laundry, kicking the old washing machine a few times to get it going. It had been on its last leg for a decade, it was a matter of months before it finally conked out. You threw the clothes in, fingers snagging on a lacy number at the bottom.

You frowned, tugging it out and holding it up to the light. You’d never seen this before. It certainly hadn’t come from your bag. “You like it?”

You jumped, whirling around with the shirt clutched to your chest. “Jesus, Bo, you scared me.”

He chuckled, face still slightly mussed from sleep. He was only in a white t-shirt and pajama pants, rare to see him in anything other than working clothes. “Snagged that off a tourist yesterday, thought you’d look good in it.”

I thought you would like it.

I know you’ve got a few shirts like that in your closet.

You always look pretty in this color, baby.

You’d heard it all a thousand different ways. The same sentence over and over and over again. You were haunted by the women of Ambrose. The ones who came before you, who’d tried and failed to play house with him. The ones who were yet to come.

And the woman who would inevitably replace you when you messed up for the final time.

Your nails dug into the lace, feeling it give beneath them as you smiled at Bo. “I love it, thank you.”

He hugged you, lips lingering against your forehead before he wandered off to start some coffee. You turned around, eyes going back to the shirt. You’d burn it if you could. Rip it apart and scream, instead you tossed it in the wash with the rest of your clothes. You let the lid slam shut, the noise jarring you out of your stupor.

You forced on a happy face and walked into the kitchen. Vincent was lingering near the entrance and you offered him a gentle smile. “Sorry about dinner,” you whispered as you passed him. He shook his head and took a seat at the table.

You grabbed the ingredients you needed, rustling through Bo’s ancient cookbook for the French toast recipe you’d found the other day. One day, you’d run out, you wouldn’t have any more delicacies to surprise them both with.

Bo would tire of the same repetitive food. The same face every morning. The same sounds and movements in the bedroom. You’d become used up, lose the new shine everyone loved on their toys.

You clenched the spatula in your hand, gritting your teeth as you cooked some eggs for the both of them. You brought it over to the table, scooping it onto their plates, Bo got the bigger serving. Bo always got what he wanted.

Your mind flashed to the garage, the straps there waiting for you. “Hey!”

You jumped, pan nearly dropping out of your hands as you stared at the dropped eggs on his lap. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” You rushed to the counter, grabbing a towel and kneeling down, frantically trying to get them off his pants.

A calloused hand landed on your head, you jumped and looked up at Bo. Your heart raced, expecting malice or a sneer that meant the last nail had fallen and your time was up. Instead he was smiling gently down at you, hand smoothing the hair from your face. “Just a spill, darlin’, get the bacon ‘fore it burns.”

You backed away instantly, taking the egg filled rag with you as you went back to the stove. You flipped the bacon, turning off the burner and risking a glance over your shoulder at Bo.

He was sipping his coffee peacefully, not a worry in the world. But you could see how tightly Vincent had his fork gripped, the way it shook slightly as he placed it back on his plate. Seems you weren’t the only one who’d thought your time was up.

When would it happen?

When spring returned and the birds started chirping their early morning song again?

You wouldn’t mind if that was when it ended. If you got to make it to another birthday, that would be even better. You’d like to experience another holiday, or Halloween. Perhaps that was too much to ask for.

You’d settle for just seeing the buds return to the trees in Ambrose once more. Pink blooming in the absence of death. That would be lovely.

Alright, you’ll take that.

Make it through one more spring and you can happily let go.

You could hear the women screaming as you walked down the stairs of the house. See glimpses of who they used to be. Hair clips you knew weren’t yours, underwear buried in the back of drawers that you’d never touched. Necklaces and jewelry that didn’t match yours.

You could hear their voices, disorienting and panicked as you hung the laundry on the line. Felt like the birds echoed their mourning cries in their melody.

You saw the red lines around your wrist as you pulled off the dry sheets. You tried not to look at them too much. Bo liked to touch them, rub his fingers along your wrist and admire them. He thought it brought you closer, linked you together somehow.

You hated looking at them. Hated the sight of the worn skin. All it reminded you of was the time below. Your pictures that were tacked above the others.

You heard a scream further away from the house, bloodcurdling and echoing through the air of Ambrose. It would never make it out. Never travel past the forest bordering the ghost town. You wondered if it was a product of your own fractured psyche or another masterpiece in the works.

Your question was answered when you sat on your knees in the bathroom that night, trying to scrub the crimson out of Bo’s coveralls.

You liked your time with Vincent. You like the candles he kept scattered around his studio, nails dug into them to help him keep time. He’d sit you down on the couch and would position you like a doll. You’d let him, mind going numb as you lost time for as long as he wanted to draw you.

You knew he liked you the most out of the other girls. You learned sign language for him, communicating with him when Bo got sick of both of you. He enjoyed your face the most. It wasn’t model perfect or the type of beauty people wrote songs about.

He liked the normalcy of it, the slightly blandness. He’d told you once, on a nice night, that it was your eyes that gave you life. Not the color of them, but the light behind them.

You wondered if he would draw you again when Bo snubbed them out.

You folded Bo’s clothes, tucking them neatly into his drawers and tossing the basket back into the hall. You moved towards the bed, straightening the sheets and tucking them in tight. You liked it tight, he hated it.

Your one act of rebellion.

It honestly wasn’t hard to fall into this role with Bo. You’d known if you’d wanted to survive the only chance you had was to make him happy. In a way it was peaceful here. It was quiet and you never had to worry about anything.

You cleaned the house, cooked the food, were the perfect housewife and he’d be content and so would you. He let you have your own time, surprising you with journals to write in. Or he’d dig through tourists bags and bring you back books he’d thought you’d like.

You didn’t get to go into the city with him, doubted you ever would, but you were okay with this.

You picked up his watch, opening up his night table’s drawer to tuck it away. Your eyes landed on a bright splash of red and your fingers froze from where they hovered above the handle. You glanced over your shoulder, heart thrumming.

You turned back towards the drawer and carefully slid the Polaroid out.

A picture, a woman with gorgeous red hair splayed along her pillow. She looked beautiful.

Or she would.

If it wasn’t for the gash across the neck, so deep it showed you the inside of her throat. Crimson dripped from the wound, pooling around her and onto the bed below her.

Your eyes darted to the bed to your left, hands wrinkling the pristinely kept picture. Without thinking your hand dove further into the drawer, probing, digging, searching for something.

You didn’t know what until you hissed, hand jerking back as blood blistered out of the gash on your finger. You placed the picture back, popping your finger into your mouth and licking up the metallic taste of your blood.

You used your other hand to wrap around the handle of the blade, tugging out the large kitchen knife and staring down at it blankly.

One more spring.

You put the knife back, straightening out his drawer and leaving the haunted bedroom to clean your wound.

You woke to the sound of birds chirping. To your left was the window, pink buds blooming across the branch of the tree across from the house. Above you was Bo, straddling your waist, a knife held tightly in his hand.

“Well,” you wrapped a hand around his, calmly pulling the knife down to your throat. You’d thought you’d be more upset. Fight, beg, plead for one last winter, or just another day. One last good day. But you were tired, you’d been slipping since summer. Bits and pieces of yourself floating along the wind, joining the cacophony of lost women. “Aren’t you going to do it?”

Bo stared down at you, his brows furrowed. The whites of his eyes were red and you knew he’s been struggling with this for a while. You weren’t sure how long he’d been sitting above you, but you knew it had been before you’d woken.

You were thankful, at least, that he had let you see the spring morning before he did this.

He yanked his hand out of yours, “Crazy bitch,” he muttered. He scoffed and shook his head, jumping off of you. Your head lolled to the left, you opened up the window, inhaling the fresh smell of new life.

You made it another winter and another spring. Your face was plastered along Vincent’s wall. Statues of you adorned Ambrose but you didn’t occupy a single one of them.

On the outside MISSING flyers with your face faded and fell from lamp posts. Your name was forgotten from the minds of those who’d been alive to mourn you. You became another statistic, another lost soul. An old news story that would be used in classrooms.

What happened to her?

Is she still alive?

Was she the first?

Will we ever know?

No. They wouldn’t. You were the girl on the paper trampled beneath frantic feet as they rushed to work. Tossed aside in the garbage when they were done with the morning paper. To the rest of them, you were forgotten.

To Ambrose, you were their muse. Inspiration behind their every move.

Every morning you’d wake up to a blade pressed against your throat. And every morning Bo would leap away from you and shake his head. He’d never do it, you knew that now, and it provided you with a careless freedom that freed you from the shackles you’d placed upon yourself.

You didn’t spread your legs and let him take what he wanted anymore. You didn’t submit under his temper, you fought back, raised your voice and threw glass bottles right back at him. You didn’t let him bend Vincent under his thumb or scream at him just because he could.

You pushed, every day, that invisible line that separated you from the other ghosts in town. Yet, somehow, you never breached it, only managed to extend it.

“I want to go with you.”

Bo froze, after a moment he fixed his cap and grabbed his keys from the tray. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, “Well, come on then.”

You followed him through the front door, hopping in the truck when he opened it up to you. The engine rumbled, vibrating the seat below you and his hand slid from the keys to your thigh. He squeezed, as if reminding himself you were there, he was really doing this.

You could hardly believe it yourself.

Bo rounded the bend from the gas station and you felt your heart racing. A hummingbird flitting through your chest, frantically trying to break from the cage of your ribs. He pulled through the old campground, the one you’d been on before your car had mysteriously broken down.

You couldn’t remember who it was you were with. What their names were.

You’re halfway certain one of them had been a lover. His name lost to the past.

Bo pulls onto the highway and you brace yourself. You’re not sure for what. Perhaps for him to change his mind, a blade buried in your gut. To start pouring blood down the front of your shirt. Or maybe the car will wreck, divine intervention deciding that neither of you get another day.

Nothing happens. Bo slams his hand against the truck’s stereo and rock crackles through the speakers. His hand returns to your thigh and he hums along to the music. After a moment you relax, rolling the window down and letting the breeze cool you down.

He makes it to the city, smaller than where you used to live, but a mammoth compared to Ambrose. You buy groceries, marveling over products you’d forgotten even existed. You finally manage to buy the tampons you like instead of getting lucky that another woman has them in her bag.

You harass him into letting you go to a secondhand store, buying a shirt for you. Yours and yours alone. It’s simple, long sleeved and white, nothing special, but it means everything to you. When you make it back to Ambrose, the familiar stifling air and aged walls, you bury the shirt in your dresser.

You’ll never wear it and never part with it. This shirt will never be anyone else’s but yours. You’ll never allow another woman to get her hands on it. Even when you’re gone you’ll protect it.

“What do you think?”

Bo shrugged, taking another swig of his beer as his eyes roved over the journal in his hand. You sat on the edge of your seat, eagerly watching him read. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, he sensed it, pouncing on the chance to make you vulnerable.

“You know I don’t read much, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to sit next to him. “I’m aware, it’s real sad, Bo. Now,” you nudged his shoulder with your own. “What do you think?”

He chuckled, marking the page and tossing it on the coffee table. His legs spread and you took the invitation, slotting yourself in his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He grinned up at you, “It was good. Real fuckin’ good.”

You smiled, cheeks puffing out with the force of it. “Really?”

He nodded his head, “Mhm.” He leaned forward, taking you with him, and placed his beer on the table. You reached behind yourself, blindly readjusting it onto a coaster. He rolled his eyes, but you saw the fondness in them.

His hands moved down your back, squeezing your ass before they landed on your thighs. Rough calluses spread along smooth skin and goosebumps prickled under his touch. You don’t know why you let him read the strange disjointed novel you’d been writing.

Maybe because you knew no one would ever see it. Maybe you wanted some part of yourself permanently embedded into his brain. Either way, you enjoyed the way his face changed as he took it in. The expressions shifting with each new sentence.

“You got a fucked up little mind, you know that?”

You hummed, nodding your head and leaning forward to slot your lips against his own. It was his own fault you were like this. He’d bent you, broke you down, used you until you were a shadow of the woman who used to exist within your body.

Maybe he had won.

There was a part of you, a spirit, floating somewhere beneath his garage, that had once belonged to you.

You ground your hips down against his, biting down on his lip until copper flooded your mouth. He didn’t get angry, just gripped your hair and moved you both to the cushions. He groaned into your open mouth, pinning your body below his and manipulating you how he wanted.

Then again, maybe you’d ruined him too.

You shouldn’t be alive. You shouldn’t still have a throat to drag air down, but here you were. Shoving against him and forcing him to submit to your whims. You weren’t the only one who’d changed, and you both knew it.

#bo sinclair x reader #Slashers x reader #house of wax x reader #house of wax 2005 #Slasher x reader #slashers x y/n #Slashers x you #bo Sinclair x you #bo Sinclair x y/n

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ezri261 · 2 years

Text

Personal Assistant...

Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Dom Male Reader part 3

Part 2

Warnings: Belly bulge, size kink, hair-pulling, degradation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, choking, cursing, pet names, creampie, nipple play, teasing, sir kink, overstimulation [tell me if I missed anything]

NOTE: This is my first time writing smut, so if it's bad, please don't mind it

"ngh-... Sir- I don't think we should- aGH! Be doing this..."

The two were currently at the place that Scaramouche was hiding in currently [yk, bc he basically disappeared after the gnosis disaster] and the so-called 'reward' that Scaramouche promised... Was this.

"Relax, don't you want your reward? You should be grateful that I'm even doing this to you, brat"

Scaramouche spat on (M/N)'s dick and started licking the tip, pre-cum already there

"You're turned on just by this? Pathetic"

He then proceeded to put his whole mouth in his dick, swirling his tongue around the base, (M/N) couldn't control himself any longer so he grabbed Scaramouche's hair and slammed into him, making Scaramouche gag.

"Fuck- Sir, your mouth is so good..."

"mngh!"

Of course, he couldn't say anything as he was busily deep-throating (M/N), he couldn't say it didn't feel good though.

The (H/C)-colored male suddenly felt something form around his stomach and he didn't want to cum yet... So he took Scaramouche's hair and pulled him up- And oh my... The face that he was making turned on (M/N) more.

"What the fuck are you-!"

(M/N) carried him to the bed and threw him there and immediately pinned him, with both of his arms at the top of his head.

Scaramouche was angered, to say the least, but it quickly went away when (M/N) started kissing and biting his neck, quickly forming a hickey.

"You idiot-! That formed a mark- ngH~!"

While Scaramouche was busy trying to get away from the male, (M/N) slithered his other hand under his shirt and started playing with his nipples.

"Sir, please let me."

"Tch- Fine, if you this doesn't satisfy me, then you're good as dead"

That's all it took for (M/N) to completely undress Scaramouche, leaving his boxers on, the cold air brushing over his porcelain skin.

"Hey! It's not fair that I'm the only one that's naked!"

(M/N) quickly undressed and immediately went back to kissing Scaramouche's skin, going down to his v-line.

He went to his thighs and kissed near his private area, teasing him a bit.

"Please..."

He tugged on his boxers and took them off, carelessly tossing them aside, making Scaramouche's dick feel the cold air, and honestly? It made him shiver a bit.

(M/N) got the lube from the nightstand [how convenient] and poured a generous amount on his fingers and prodded his finger at Scaramouche's entrance, wanting to tease him for a bit.

"God damnit-! Just put it in!"

"Shut up, slut."

"What did you just call me- o-oHh~!?"

(M/N) shoved his finger inside, making Scaramouche squirm and try to hide his moans

"mmph- ah.."

He was already close to cumming from just one finger, but don't worry, that's why (M/N) is here.

"If you cum just by this, I won't hesitate to leave you alone and deal with this yourself."

It sounded like a threat, and Scaramouche was not taking any chances- even if it ruins his pride.

(M/N) smiled to himself and kissed Scaramouche's forehead, telling him that he's a good boy.

He then inserted a second finger and felt a bump inside.

"GOD-! AGh~"

'Oh? So this is his good spot, huh?'

(M/N) started thrusting a bit faster and It made Scaramouche moan in ecstasy, making (M/N) smirk.

He started scissoring him so he loosens up more.

"Ple...Please...- AHg~! GoD- Put it in al- already!"

"How impatient... But I guess I'll do what you say, sir~"

(M/N) pulled his fingers out, making Scaramouche whine at the lost sensation, but it was quickly replaced with the taller male's dick sitting at the top of his entrance.

Scaramouche stared at it with wide eyes, wondering how it'll fit- Now he regrets being impatient.

"I'll put it in now, sir, tell me if I need to stop."

He slowly inserted his dick into Scaramouche's ass, it was tight and it made Scaramouche tear up from the fullness and how it was stretching him, it felt like his ass was on fire.

"Shhh, shh... You can take it, right, sir?"

(M/N) kisses his tears away as Scaramouche babbles incoherent words, making (M/N) only whisper sweet nothings into his ear, before fully bottoming out in Scaramouche.

Scaramouche arched his back before going back down, trying to catch his breath before looking down and seeing a bump on his stomach, well- not really a bump, it's more like an imprint of (M/N)'s dick.

"Oh~? Look, darling, it's me inside you."

(M/N) pressed down at his stomach, making Scaramouche groan.

He wiggled his hips, giving (M/N) a sign to move.

He kissed Scaramouche as he started moving, [as I am writing this, everything is getting blurry LOL] making both of them moan into the kiss.

"Go- AH- fast~er!"

(M/N) obliged and went faster, putting both of his arms on either side of Scaramouche's head to balance himself and not fall on top of the male under him.

Scaramouche, the supposed scary harbinger, broken down to a moaning mess, under a person who's an assistant, a person who is supposed to be under him.

But did he mind? No.

"hAH~ NGh... P-pleAse!"

"Please- hah... please what?"

(M/N) knew what he wanted, but he wanted to make the harbinger say it out loud.

"gAh~! Hha- Hah- breed me- fuck into me like you mean it!"

"Haha... How slutty of you, sir."

He pressed down on Scaramouche's stomach, making the male moan, even more, not being able to form a single word, and had tears rolling down his cheeks. (M/N) smirked at him and kissed his tears away, saying sweet nothings to him.

"Such a good boy, taking my dick so good"

Scaramouche could only moan in response, and it seemed like (M/N) didn't like his response, so- he trailed his hand towards his neck and started choking him, just the right amount where he could still breathe.

"I expect an answer."

"YE- YES~ I-I'M YOUR GAH~ GOOD BO-Y~"

Scaramouche started twitching and tightening around (M/N), meaning that he was about cum.

"Cum for me, baby."

With that, he released his seed onto his stomach, some of it going onto (M/N)'s stomach too.

But even with Scaramouche finally done, (M/N) didn't stop his thrusts, making Scaramouche try to squirm away.

"I- I ju-st came! MhN~ Pu-pull away!"

"You can take one more, right? Tell me you can, right baby?"

He nodded as he couldn't form a single sentence, he was already seeing stars from the overstimulation he was receiving.

"Such a good boy, just for me."

He pulled out and he switched Scaramouche's position, so now his ass was up, head down on the pillow.

He thrusted in roughly, making Scaramouche arch his back and moan into the pillow, some saliva dripping down.

(M/N) coos at him and pulled his hair and pushed him down at the pillow even more.

'Shit- I'm about to cum...'

His thrusts were becoming more sloppy as he was trying to chase his own release, making Scaramouche cry out in pleasure and pain, trying to chase his own release too.

"I'm cumming-"

"Inside-! Inside pl- haH~ Please!"

He thrusts in one last time and painted Scaramouche's walls white, while the said male moaned in ecstasy and came on the bedsheets.

(M/N) pulled out, seeing the white fluid run down Scaramouche's thighs, as the male plopped down on the bed, exhaustion taking over him.

The taller male caught his breath and cleaned up the mess before finally going onto the bed with the already sleeping prototype.

BONUS

While the two were sleeping, the smaller male scooted next to (M/N), making (M/N) unconsciously drape his arm around the smaller male

The ginger was looking for the (H/C) haired male and sees that he wasn't in his room, so he informs the other harbingers.

A/N: BRO, I STARTED THIS ON 11PM AND ENDED AT 12AM, BYE

Taglist: @kyaaii @sarahyumiko2 @yunadxd @yourdadisabitchboy @justakiro @leafinapuddle

Part 4

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dearest-painter · 10 months

Text

No she’s MY DAUGHTER! PT.1

Summary: Y/N Drew is the adopted daughter of Jessica drew as a 6 soccer year old girl. What she doesn’t know is that she looks a bit to familiar to her mom’s boss, in his eyes she’s the reincarnation of his dead daughter. When Y/N and her friends have to help an anomaly stay alive it reveals that more people want her as family.

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is basically Gabriella O’Hara aka Miguel’s dead daughter but you can change your looks just some things will look like Gabriella,Reader is a soccer player which is based off of my experience,Reader is 6 years old so no romance bc duh,very out of character characters,this is a series,Her mama brought her to a chase,Reader is BFFS with Pavitr,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

PT.2 PT.3

You and your mama just arrived at her work, your dad couldn’t watch you as usual as he had to go into the office this time so you just went with her. You’ve only been here a few times as she tries to keep you out of this stuff, you were wearing your soccer uniform as you just finished a soccer game. “Mama can I get something to eat, I’m hungry” “Of course sweetie, let’s go to the cafeteria so you can eat plus mama is hungry herself” you giggled and nodded. You were so excited for a new sibling! You knew they’d need LOTS of attention and help so your parents would be busy but that’s fine! Your more then willing to share the love your parents give you!

You were skipping as you were happy to see your best friend soon! You two got there and got some food. “Gracias!” “Your welcome little one, on the house Jessica” “You sure?” “Mhm, your pregnant and also little one seemed extra hungry” Jessica nodded her head as you two ate then threw away your trash. She kept holding your hand the whole time as she wants to be sure your safe, you didn’t know where your mama’s motorcycle was but you knew it was somewhere.

“Mama is gonna go do some work so you stay here, okay baby?” “Okay mama! Be safe!” She kissed your forehead then went to works as you sat down and started to draw in your coloring book. You didn’t know where you were which worried your anxiety but you were calming down as you were coloring….staring..someone was staring at you..you weren’t insane and knew it so immediately you got up and looked around just to see if you could see ANYTHING that would show the thing watching you.

Miguel was looking at you surprised…his daughter is alive? Lyla saw you were getting nervous and started breathing heavy as you were scared so she appeared on your watch. “Hi there!” “AHH!” You jumped and fell as you stared at the holographic women…you blinked a bit before responding. “H-hello?” “Hi there! I’m Lyla, your Y/N drew aka Jessica Drew’s adopted daughter” you nodded your head slowly confused why this random lady knows about you. Lyla saw the worried looked on your face which she didn’t like as she was program to also care for Gabriella and you look exactly like her. “I’m an AI, I was made to do and learn about anything in any universe. I know about your family and history as a quick scan then I know everything. I know that isn’t comforting but that’s the truth”

You nodded your head feeling a bit more comfortable..sorta but you kept feeling eyes on you. Miguel was still in disbelief seeing a girl look similar to his daughter, is this the universe saying that his daughter still needs him? Recantation..that what must’ve happened, you were his daughter just in a different form! Yes that’s the answer! He just wishes he found you before Jessica did. “I-is there someone else here? I don’t like the feeling of being watched” “Just Miguel, he’s just a grumpy workaholic man. He isn’t much talkative so how about I talk to you while you color?” You felt a bit calmer knowing you weren’t going insane so you nodded your head and got back on the chair as you went back to coloring as Lyla talked…you wanted your mama and dad really bad.

#No she’s my daughter series #yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #female reader #fem reader #yandere x female reader #no romance #platonic relationships only #part 1 of many #yandere spider man across the spider verse #yandere spiderverse #Gabriella!Reader

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myvampyrez · 1 month

Note

I love your doc reader x Dante drabble! Can I ask for a reader Dante x seamstress? He wants to fix the coat and the bum! accidentally in love ^^

bursting at the seams 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

ughhhgghfh!!! this request was soossosso cuteeehhxjdxidjsj

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

some cuss words, intended lowercase, mentions of blood and dirt but only bc dantes doin his job as a devil hunter lol, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

988 words, 5278 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“shit, dante, what did you do to this thing?”

“yeah, yeah—i know my ass is fat, thank you very much.” he paused as your eyes roamed around the tear, especially with your hand attempting to get a feel of how bad the cut was. how could he focus when your hand was so close to his ass?

“do you think you can fix it?” he finally said, tone a bit quieter than usual.

“‘course i can, who do you take me for?” you say, sauntering back over to your desk to grab some materials, eager for a new job on fixing dante’s coat.

you gripped the tattered leather of his clothing, not even wincing as the grime and blood transferred from his coat to your hands. this was a common occurrence with dante as he often came to you in times where he needed some spare clothes due to the fact that demons kept tearing his up. as you kneeled back down to assess the rips, you couldn’t help but think of how much these demons had it out for dante to be messing with his clothes this bad.

at your quip, dante merely shrugs and waits for you to be done with your work as his eyes trail across your office. it’s filled with posters of your biggest idols and numerous mannequins in the corners of the room. intricate designs scrawled onto pages littered the countertops as he eyed some especially brightly colored spools of thread. he could barely think as he got a whiff of your perfume when you had walked by him, and it definitely didn’t help as you had him take off his coat and start measuring his waist.

“you better be paying me for this, it’s a major rip.” you muttered as you walked away, dante’s eyes tracking you while you placed the coat on your desk and gazed down at it.

“‘course i will, what do ya take me for?” he mocked your earlier words, leaning against the small sink underneath some cabinets, making sure he didn’t prick himself with one of the thin needles scattered near it.

you threw him a playful glare before holding up the measuring tape and walking back up to him. your eyes stayed trained on him as you just said, “hips?”

dante cocked his head before taking a small sigh and stopped leaning on the counter, now standing up straight. he tried to act calm and unbothered, even going so far as to practically check his nails and yawn. in reality, having you at such a close proximity caused him to stiffen, your scent abundant in his nostrils as it made him dizzy while you wrapped the tape around his hips. it fit snuggly around him, the bright color a deep contrast compared to his dark shirt. maybe he really did have a fat ass, you thought.

“so, how’s the weather?” he joked, eager to get his mind off the fact that you were touching him. touching him, your hands wrapped around his waist ensuring that the tape was secure and accurate. your hands, touching him.

but oh, when you giggled at his joke. his stupid joke. it was like butterflies erupted inside of him, a sudden swell of pride rushing in his chest as he let out a small chuckle alongside you too.

your eyes flickered back up at him, soft smile still evident as you scoffed amusedly, “you’re funny, dante.”

and that was the real cherry on top. him? funny? you thought he was funny? dante obviously knew he was funny, but hearing you admit it never failed to redden the tips of his ears. he beamed at you, watching as you spun around and wrote his measurements down.

you tucked your hair behind your ear, eyes finding their way back to dante who stood there with that stupid smirk on his face, as per usual. your soft grin never faltered as you tilted your head at him. “anything else i can do for you?” was all you said, tone honeyed as the words fell from your lips.

“nah, ‘m good but let me know if you need anything, okay?“ he paused, smiling at you once more as he gathered his things and headed for the door. “it’s the least i could do as a thanks for your fine work.”

your attention focused back on the coat in your hands, already beginning your patchwork as your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration. “it’ll take a little while ‘til your coats done, i hope that’s okay.”

“as long as it gets fixed, i’m okay with waiting.” dante’s tone became uncharacteristic, almost holding a sweeter tone rather than his usual cocky demeanor.

“i’ll see you later, dante.” you paused your work, looking back up at the man standing in the doorway as he gave you a two-finger salute and closed the door behind him.

his steps echoed in the hallway, shoes tapping against the tile as he made his way outside into the bright sunlight. as he saw the light shine through the windows, he couldn’t help but think back to you. you were standing right in front of the window, the golden rays shone on you like no other as it illuminated your figure, almost making you out to be a divine figure.

dante subconsciously licked his lips as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to get you out of his head before his hand felt something in his pocket. his eyebrows furrowed as he fished what seemed to be a small piece of paper out, unfolding the crinkled mess. he squinted as his eyes read over a slew of numbers scrawled on the ripped corner, smirk reappearing on his face when he read the tiny, “call me!” underneath the numbers, a small ‘xoxo’ written under it in red pen.

maybe he’d give you a call, he thought, just once more.

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 8 days

Note

ok I’m sorry about having you write those heartbreaking Grayson hcs, I’m gonna be honest they made me sob so hard 😭 so let’s get some happy Grayson ones (I loved that last one by the way, he’s so cute)

happy grayson head canons

of course, i have made another grayson post (some are happy, some are sad), but i'll make another one bc he's everything (it might be shorter though).also i have no idea what 'happy' head canons are so here are some that aren't sad (some funny, some happy, some embarrassing, etc). hope you like them <3. @lanterns-and-daydreams helped with some of these

he doesn't smile often, but when he does you see his little dimples (idk if this is canon but, if it isn't, i like the idea of him having dimples)

he talks to their dog, tiramisu, in a really high pitched voice

he works out religiously. he has like a schedule and everything, and he sings when he works out.

he watches my little pony as a guilty pleasure. xander knows and is using it as blackmail material.

he desperately wants a cat but doesn't want their dog to kill it.

he has an obsession with is ass. he takes pride in it being big and juicy.

he's jealous of jameson bc he's an inch taller than gray is, and he uses it against him.

he joined a yoga group without knowing it was for girls only, so now, once a week, he gossips and does yoga with these old ladies.

he loves face masks more than anything. xander and jameson have tons of pictures of him with cucumbers on his eyes and a face mask.

he doesn't like colors. if someone were to ask him what his favorite color is, he'd just say black or white or smth

he loves composing his own piano pieces and playing them to his brothers and the others.

he despises sex education with a passion. whenever he used to have those classes in school, he would blush so hard the teachers thought he was having a stroke or some shit

grayson loves poetry (ik this was mentioned in tbh, but i hc he still does it for fun to express his emotions (he didn't stop after the one year challenge))

when he was younger, he really liked snails. he used to collect some and give them a 'home' in jars he found around the mansion.

he's a sucker for matchas. he literally makes himself one every morning before he starts working. (he has a cup with cats on it that he uses every day)

he owns a human dog bed (if you don't know what it is, search it up)

he once tried to watch p*rn to see what the hype is all about, but he got so disgusted and uncomfortable he threw away his laptop.

all of the pens in his pen collection are placed side by side from smallest to biggest in his drawer.

he has the biggest walk in closet you can imagine (bigger than barbie's)

xander once bought him a skirt and dared him to go to work wearing it. pictures of it got out and his fans started calling him baby girl.

he makes playlist for his favorite book couples.

this dude cannot smirk for the life of him. he looks like a constipated sloth when he tries to.

he can do the splits perfectly.

when someone kicks him in the balls, he sounds like a dying hyena. he just wheezes for like 5 minutes straight whilst everyone just looks at him in horror. he then wobbles away.

he's a really good just dance player. he actually laughs when he plays.

grayson knows how to pole dance.

when he was younger, he was jealous that jamie had more prominent abs so he used to contour his to make them look like jamie's

when he was younger, he tried to learn how to purr. he thought it would be cool

he wanted to be like nash so bad when he was younger than he would stick a hay strand in his mouth and try to speak in a southern accent. skye was mortified.

grayson loved flower crowns. xander used to make him some and he would walk around wearing them proudly.

he wears subtle makeup sometimes (when he's in the mood) (blush, concealer, very subtle eyeliner, etc)

when he was younger, he would also try to gallop around like a horse. he would get on his hands and knees and strut around (tobias wanted to kill himself)

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #libby grambs #lyra kane #the grandest game

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hoes-love-lani · 2 months

Text

Not What It Looks Like Pt. 1

Request: Omg Lani, I’m so fucking high rn and I gots an idea. What about a ghostface Amber fic where she breaks into r’s house as ghostface. I kinda want it to be like in scream 1996 with Tatum where r goes: “don’t kill me Mr ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.” But like ghostface/amber spares them for s*x in return. And then r finds out it’s Amber bc of the way ghostface is fucking them. ITS A LOT, I KNOW BUT I FEEL LIKE IM COOKING UP SOMETHING HERE- (anyway, I love your work ;3, keep doing yo shi bsf)

Pairing: Ghostface!Amber x fem!reader

Summary: Ghostface breaks into r’s apartment, fearing for her life, r would do anything to survive.

Warning: Ghostface, breaking in, red text color is ghostface talking, set in scream 5 but with certain characters added from scream 6🤓

A/n: okay Walter white, I see you cooking up something other than that weed :3 I love this request tho, istg I gotta get high more often to create ideas this good LMAO! No but seriously, this sounds amazing and thank you for asking me to write this! (Plus, I find it funny that you censored sex)

You were at your friend Tara’s dorm with the rest of your friend group, playing uno and getting drunk. You were sat down between Tara and your girlfriend Amber. She rested her hand on your thigh as she watched the game, sipping on her beer.

“Uno!” You raised your hands in the air as a sign in victory, the rest of the group groaning and slamming their cards down onto the wooden dining table.

As you cheered and gloated in front of everyone’s face, the news on the TV started blaring, the siren blaring in your ears.

“Breaking News: Blackmore University film student by the name of Jason Carvey was found brutally stabbed in his dorm. The mutilated body of his roommate, Gary Bruckner, has been found crammed inside the fridge. A bloody Ghostface mask was found on the scene, police ran a DNA test and concluded that the mask belonged to Billy Loomis,”

“The infamous Ghostface of Woodsboro,” You and the group finished the sentence in unison. After the Woodsboro attack, the group moved to New York to live a “normal life”

But it looks like the plans gone to shit.

Amber reached over for the remote and shut the TV off. When you looked at her, her expression was stone cold, her jaw clenched as she stared at the blank screen. You originally thought it was from shock, but there was something in the way her lips pursed too hard that made it seem odd.

“It’s probably not even Ghostface this time, just some random looking for a thrill.” Mindy said as she got up to grab another beer.

“I’m sorry, Catherine Obvious, but have you been here for the past year?” Chad waved his hand in front of Mindy’s face when she sat down. “It’s obviously him… they followed us.” He leaned back his chair, drumming his fingers on his arm.

The room was silent for a moment, everyone taking in the information that no one wanted to hear.

“We need to go.” Sam stared down in the middle of the table, her eyes burning holes into the colorful Uno cards.

“Psh, Sam, it’ll be fine. Don’t be dramatic.” Amber smirked as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, her attitude completely different than what it was 10 seconds ago.

Sam threw a death-glance at Amber, about to cuss her out before Anika spoke up,

“Yeah, I think we’ll be fine. If anything, we have cute boy across the street to help us.” Anika smirked as Sam’s face grew a bright red, muttering something under her breath before beelining to her room.

“Well. I say we call it a night.” Chad said as he stretched his arms over his head.

Everyone agreed and collected their belongings while Mindy was (rightfully) the one to help clean up everything.

————————————————————————

Amber had her arm wrapped around your waist as she walked you back to your dorm. When you arrived, Amber softly kissed your cheek as her other hand traveled up your shoulder, her fingers digging into your skin.

“Be safe, y/n. I can’t handle another one of Sam’s hour-long speeches about sticking together.”

You softly chuckled as she swept a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll try. But if anything happens, I’ll call you. Goodnight, Amber.” You softly squeezed her arm before letting go, entering your dorm as you blew her a kiss.

You locked the door behind you, placing your phone and keys on the entryway table. You stretched your arms above your head, your muscles tense from the game and a pounding headache from the news and the amount of alcohol in your system.

You walked into your bedroom, taking off your shoes before grabbing a pair of pajamas and heading to the bathroom, your steps slow and relaxed.

The hot water of the shower rained down on you, your muscles relaxing from the aroma of the lavender bodywash that Amber bought for you. The soap suds ran down your curves, collecting at the foot of the shower before being washed away.

When you finished and wrapped yourself in a towel, you walked to the sink to brush your teeth. The spearmint toothpaste lingered in your mouth before being replaced with the strong taste of the cool mint mouthwash you spat out into the sink.

You put in a black bra and a pair of black panties before grabbing your pajamas. The blue cotton antic stuck to your damp body as you pulled the shirt over your head and stepped into the matching pants.

You threw your dirty clothes into the weaven laundry hamper, the bin rocking against the wall for a split second.

You sat down in front of your vanity, grabbing your brush and running it through the knots in your hair. The brush caught on one particularly big knot in your hair. As you struggled to brush it out, the landline that was sitting on your bedside table started ringing.

“Unknown Number”

The words flashed on the tiny screen as the ringing filled the room.

Once you brushed out the tangle, you reached over to press the “accept” button on the landline.

“Hello? Y/n speaking. ” You called out as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Hello? Is Maria there?” The voice on the other line was adenoidal and croaky.

Maria was your roommate who was currently out of town, visiting her parents.

“No, she’s not available. Might I ask who this is?”

“I’m Joey. I’m in her trig class” The caller cleared their throat.

“Oh yeah? Joey from trigonometry. How come I’ve never heard of you, Joey from trigonometry?” You smirked as you teased the poor person on the other line.

“You sound exactly like how she describes you.”

“She talks about me?

“I don’t think I can really talk about that.”

“What does she say about me?”

“She says that you’re creative. You love reading and TV and movies.”

“Lots of people love movies.”

“Yeah, but she says you love scary movies and that you guys have that in common.”

“She told me the other day, she wonders…” The voice trailed off for a moment before continuing.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Your ear perked up as you faced the landline, the bright green color of the screen stared at you, blinking the numbers over and over again.

“Well, I really liked “X”. It’s great representation of the psycho-biddy genre.”

“Sounds kinda boring to me. Have you ever seen Stab?”

“Once, i think. At a sleepover when I was, like, 12.”

“You lived in Woodsboro when you were a kid and you don’t know Stab?”

Now that, caught your attention. No one exceopt for the rest of the group knew you were from Woodsboro. You picked up the phone, pulling it to your ear as you made your way back into the living room to grab your cell.

“How’d you know I lived in Woodsboro?”

The voice on the other line was replaced by heavy breathing and the sound of rummaging.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Amber.”

“I told you, this isn’t Amber. But you’re looking particularly fetching tonight. Those blue pajamas really fit you.”

“What do you want?” You grabbed your phone and pulled up the dial button, as you pressed in the 9 and 1, the voice boomed again.

“Stop right there, y/n. You call the cops, you die. You hang up the phone, you die. It’s not hard getting into your dorm. Especially when you leave your window unlocked.”

That’s when you felt the slight breeze behind you. As you turned around, you saw that the living room window was wide open, the wind flowing with the curtains.

You bolted to the window, slamming it shut and locking it. You ran into your room, locking the door behind you.

The voice came on the landline again, “Come on, y/n… Don’t be shy, come and find me…”

You searched every nook and cranny in your room, carefully making sure there was no sign of Ghostface here.

When you searched under your bed, you found a bloody Ghostface mask, more blood stuck to your hands the longer you held it… it was easy to recognize this one too…

Mickey Alteri

The 2nd Ghostface

“What the fu-,” was all you could manage to get out before you heard the doors of your closet adjacent to the bed, crashing open. A black-robed figure sprinting at you was the last thing you saw before being tackled to the ground by Ghostface. A knife was pressed against your throat from the person above you, the voice changer crackled with every heavy breath.

“Surprise, y/n.”

#amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #tara carpenter x reader #mikey madison #scream 5 #scream franchise #scream movies #Spotify

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dilfspitdrinker · 9 months

Text

Let The Light In | Joel Miller x f!reader

Description: You’ve been babysitting Joel Miller’s daughter all summer. No matter now much you try to deny it, you know you’re into him. But it’s just a little crush that you thought could never be reciprocated, until one fateful phone call. The shift between you two is irresistible, and you’re in for more than you ever anticipated. A/N: guys I got so stuck on this ch that I waited until I myself was wine drunk to write some of the dialogue. Lit a mf candle. Listened to wine pon you by doja cat and drunk in love by Beyoncé on repeat. Also I thought SO HARD about whether or not they should boink in this chapter (spoiler: they don’t SORRYYY). Also here’s some pics of what Joel looks like for this date bc u need to see the vision, the boy is absolutely gift wrapped.

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Friday finally rolled around, and you’d been buzzing all day. You started getting ready for your date two hours in advance, just to be sure you gave yourself enough time. Joel hadn’t told you just how fancy this restaurant would be, you only knew it was not Olive Garden, and presumably nicer. You rummaged through your closet, cycling through a few options before settling on a little black dress. Classic, you hoped Joel would like it. You kept it simple with light makeup, but debated heavily between a pinky gloss or a wine red lipstick. You swiped on the gloss, and it looked good, but you felt it wasn’t enticing enough. You wiped it off and applied the lipstick with precision. Taking a step back, you examined yourself in the mirror. It tied the whole look together nicely. You’d never gotten this dressed up for a date, certainly not any first date. It made you giddy to think that Joel was already treating you with such care.

You didn’t start feeling nervous until you received an “on my way” text. You fiddled with your jewelry, perched on the edge of the bed. You knew Joel would be a gentleman, you were more concerned about yourself. You desperately didn’t want to come off the wrong way.

The doorbell rang, making you jump out of your thoughts. You hurried to the door, clammy hands smoothing down your dress. One last deep breath before twisting the handle. One last steadying thought – it’s just Joel – and you swung open the door.

You thought you might collapse at the sight of him. His hair was combed back, a new look from his usual tousled locks, and it made your fingers twitch, itching to mess it up again. Over his broad frame was a dark green button up, with the top two buttons undone, allowing your eyes to devour his collarbone and neck. You needed to get his skin between your teeth before the night was over. Your gaze drifted lower, and in his hands, flowers. He held them out to you with a gorgeous smile, “Evening, darlin’.”

“Joel,” was all you could say at first, and it was written all over your face that you were entranced by him. Watching you absorb his appearance, he wondered if you’d even looked at yourself. From the second you opened the door, he was smitten. You looked nothing short of stunning. The silhouette of your dress was beyond flattering. That color of lipstick accentuated the shape of your lips, and he had to hold himself back from kissing it all off. There would be time for that later.

You took the bouquet and threw your arms around his shoulders, in lieu of a hello. His large hands splayed over your back. Up close, you could smell his cologne, instantly making your loins stir.

The light scent of the flowers reminded you to pull away before getting too lost in him. “Let me put these in a vase real quick.”

He stayed in the doorway, but leaned over to watch while you filled a vase with water. “The sink behaving itself?”

“Yeah, works perfect.”

“And the cabinets?”

“No longer squeaky.”

“Good,” he nodded once.

You glanced at him repeatedly while arranging the flowers, hardly believing your eyes. It felt surreal to see Joel Miller leaning against your doorway, waiting to take you on a date.

He detected your nervousness, and wondered if you could sense his. It had been more than a decade since he’d had any romantic prospects, and his heart pressured him to win you over.

It wasn’t lost on you how his eyes had been glued to you this whole time. It lent some confidence to your stride as you grabbed your purse and returned to him. On the way out to the truck, it was impossible to ignore how his ass sat awfully nicely in his gray slacks.

He took you to a restaurant you’d never heard of, but that wasn’t saying much. Most places in Austin you were still unfamiliar with. You found yourself hoping Joel would take you all over the city.

He gave you a hand getting out of the truck, which you readily accepted. You marveled at how small your hand felt enveloped in his own, and he still held it as you walked into the restaurant, and still didn’t let go until you were seated. You both looked over the menu quietly, murmuring about what looked good. A blanket of unexpected shyness hung in the air between you.

He cleared this throat, “You look amazing. Meant to say that earlier, but you really did have me speechless.”

Heat rose in your cheeks, “You look great too.”

His mouth quirked upwards, but there was something behind his eyes that said he didn’t believe you, not fully.

Your gaze dropped back to the menu, unable to say it while looking right at him, “I mean it. You’re very handsome Joel.”

His smirk was all too audible, “Oh yeah? I clean up nice?”

“You do, but you’re handsome all the time.”

“I don’t know about all the time. You’ve never seen me at work.”

An image of him hard at work on a job site flashed in your mind. Muscles rippling, tanned and glistening with sweat from the sun. You’d do anything to see that, but didn’t even need to to be certain. “All. The time.”

He chuckled, “I’ll take your word for it.”

That left him with the question, since when? Had you always found him attractive? He’d certainly noticed your beauty from the start, have to be blind not to. You were a sight for sore eyes, and his eyes – along with everything else – were often very sore after a long day. He would try not to think about you too much, assuming that you probably didn’t want your old man boss fawning over how pretty you were. Sarah didn’t make that easy, she loved to ramble about her days spent with you, how cool and fun you were. Long after you’d left for the night, when he’d help himself to a brownie or whatever else you’d made, it took a strained effort to not picture you looking so lovely in his home. But the days of trying to avoid thoughts of you were long gone. Ever since the night you’d called and asked to be picked up – ever since you had needed him – there was no place in his mind that you couldn’t slip into.

The waiter came over and took your orders, and returned shortly with two glasses of wine.

You sipped your drink, hiding your desperation to down the whole glass. If your pounding heart would just stabilize, maybe you could be talkative enough for him to not regret this. You had to admit that your age gap made you uncertain about what topics you could both relate to, that didn’t involve Sarah. Your prayers were answered when he lead the conversation, because of course he would– he constantly proved himself to be the ideal man.

“You took a summer class, right?”

A question he already knew the answer to, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Summer classes had given you an excuse to move to Austin early, as you had been growing increasingly restless in your hometown. “Two, actually.”

“How’d those go for you?”

“They were pretty easy, I ended up having a lot more downtime than I thought.”

“What’d you get up to in your free time?”

Your eyes lit up, “A lot of baking. Going to the thrift store, too. Oh! And reading, when I can afford some more books.”

He was hanging on every word, but his face changed a bit at the mention of what you could afford.

Your eyes widened, realizing the unintentional implication about how much he paid you, “I’m just kidding, I’m not broke.” To regain some footing, you threw in a playful comment with a wink, “Most of the time.”

To your relief, he took it with neither offense nor concern, “I’ve been there darlin’. Don’t trust people who’ve never been broke at some point.”

“But hey,” he opened his palm on the table invitingly. You slid your hand into his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles. He continued, “Next time, shoot me a text and I’ll sponsor your next shopping trip.”

You started shaking your head, but he wouldn’t relent, “Or at least a coffee’.”

You rolled your eyes, “You already sponsor my coffees.”

He laughed shortly, “But seriously, I’d be more than happy to-“

You cut him off, “But seriously, you really don’t have to-“

“Let me,” his hand tightened around yours. His eyes were so earnest, how could you deny him? Even though it didn’t sit right with you to receive money you didn’t work for, it made your heart flutter that he was insisting, that he’d even want to do that for you.

You settled for “maybe,” which he accepted with satisfaction. In his mind, there was already a timer counting; if you didn’t mention anything you wanted in the next two weeks, he’d still send some money your way. You’d probably try to refuse it with your moral high ground bit, but he’d just usher you to the bookstore.

Swirling your wine, you hid the full extent of your intrigue when you asked, “So what about you? Besides guitar, what do you like?”

He examined you for a moment, then said, “Guess.”

Confusion crossed your face, “Guess? I don’t know, whatever Texan men like. Football?”

He held intense eye contact, “I do like football. What else do you reckon?”

You shrugged, “You cook, right?”

“Enough to get by.” He nodded at you to continue, “Go ‘head, what else do you think I like?”

You paused to wonder what was his idea with throwing you for a loop like this. Then you identified the roguish look in his eyes and finally understood, oh, this is a game. The opportunity to interact with flirty Joel was exciting, and you were determined to show a new side of yourself, one that wasn’t swimming in self-doubt. You smiled coyly and answered, “You like me.”

He smirked, pleased that you caught on, “Too easy, you already knew that.”

Your lip curled into a more devious expression, “You like that I still have your clothes, don’t you? Haven’t asked for them back.”

“You ain’t given them back either,” he returned.

You took a sip of wine and tilted the glass toward him, “I know you like this outfit, but I bet you’d like seeing me in one of your T-shirts better.”

He smiled like he was impressed, “I would. And we can make that happen, long as you don’t get all shy ‘round me.”

You cocked your head, “Am I being shy now?”

He was pushing you on purpose, “I don’t know baby. Just get the feelin’ you’re all talk.”

So he was a smart opponent, but you could rise to the challenge. This particular thought had been brewing in your mind for a while, something you’d drift to when you couldn’t sleep at night. Though you couldn’t see yourself ever saying it to his face, something about Joel brought it out of you to vocalize, “I bet you’re handsy when you’re drunk.”

He raised an eyebrow, lowering his voice, “And I bet you’d love that.”

Your jaw dropped and you kicked him under the table. He burst into laughter.

The food arrived shortly, and everything was delicious. You both drank a second glass of wine, and you adored the color it brought to his cheeks. He took every chance to make you laugh, and with every success, he fought the urge to reach across the table and hold your face in both hands.

With the warmth coursing through his veins, every smushed down sentiment was rising of its own accord within him. He wanted to be everything for you. Provider, supporter, your source of stability, driver of your joy. And even as the night wore on and his mind cleared of the haze, he remained certain. He’d spare no effort for you, pour all he had and all he was at your feet.

You were in the middle of a story about your last job, in retail. “And then I was like, ‘I don’t get paid enough for this bullshit.’ And I quit on the spot and just left.”

“Really?” he grinned with raised eyebrows, like he was enjoying the hell out of your unprofessionalism.

You rambled animatedly, “Yes really! And I’ve never done that before, and I didn’t do it, like, for fun or anything. I had just put up with so much at that point, and I actually already had my two weeks’ notice all written up, but after that shit, I literally could not stand to be there for another minute.”

“No need to defend your character, darlin’. Hell, if I were you, I’da been meaner. Told ‘em all to fuck off.”

You laughed hard, throwing your head back, and he knew for sure he was screwed.

*. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * ·

“This has been such a great night Joel. Thank you so much.” You clung to his arm on the way back to his truck, jumping at the chance to feel his bicep.

He helped you climb in while saying, “You’re more than welcome darlin.’ I’m ready for the next one whenever you are, just say the word.”

Once he was settled in front of the wheel and turning out of the parking lot, you looked at the time. The night was still young. “I don’t wanna go home,” you said quietly.

Even knowing that this might not be the best decision, he suggested, “We could always go to my place, watch a movie or somethin’.”

Your skin tingled. “Or somethin’,” you repeated.

He gave you a sidelong glance with a raised brow, “Sarah’s spending the night at Uncle Tommy’s.”

“Lucky us.”

He rested his hand on your thigh while he drove. His palm was so warm and rough against your soft skin. He squeezed it every time he noticed you staring at him drive one-handed, making you look away and bite back a smile.

At his house, you plopped yourself on the couch while he rummaged around the kitchen. Turning to you, he held up two large wine glasses, “Join me for one more?”

“Gladly,” you beamed.

He popped open a bottle of red wine. It matched your lipstick, which reminded him, now’s the time to fulfill what he’d been wanting since you opened your apartment door.

Handing you a glass, he joined you on the couch. “Whatcha feel like watchin’?”

“Anything,” you answered, because you highly doubted you’d be paying any attention.

Joel had his own collection of movies on DVD, but he opted to channel surf until he found something that had just started. He was already planning on real movie nights with you, but tonight he knew you’d both be a little too distracted.

He put an arm around your frame, pulling you into his side. Your head fit perfectly in the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Raising the glass to your lips, you realized with a smirk that he filled them both way more than one servings’ worth.

He was caressing your arm, giving you goosebumps. You could barely hear the TV over the pounding of your heart. As anticipated, you grew bored of the movie after the first scene. The wine made your blood warm, and you swore you could feel it also heating his skin, right against your temple, as another swig traveled down his throat. You turned your head slightly and pressed a kiss to his neck. His breath hitched.

He leaned forward to set his glass on the coffee table, and plucked yours out of your hand as well.

“Now come here, pretty girl,” he murmured, and not wasting another second, he was tugging your legs across his lap and you gripped his shoulders. Your lips met in an open kiss, starved and needy. One of his hands wrapped securely around your waist, the other running up and down your thigh, teasing the hem of your dress. Your tongue prodded into his mouth, fingers snaking up his scalp, finally mussing up his hair. You took note of the way he sighed and leaned in further, pleased with yourself for discovering what he enjoyed.

You parted for a breath, and smirked at the sight of your rubbed-off lipstick staining his lips. You hummed, “This color looks really good on you.”

In turn, what was left on your lips was blurred around the edges. He traced it with the pad of his thumb, “Yeah? Looks beautiful on you baby, too bad I’m takin’ it off.”

You suddenly leaned away from him. He looked a little concerned until you said, “Let me finish this off real quick,” reaching for your still overfilled wine glass.

“Well shit, I’ll join ya,” he took his own to throw back.

It became an unspoken competition of who could down their glass first. Joel won, but not by much. Just to tease him, you tucked yourself back into his side and refocused on the movie. You also wanted to test your hypothesis about how touchy he’d get, and after less than ten minutes, all that wine started working all at once. You found yourself in a fit of giggles at a joke that wasn’t that funny. Joel laughed with you in amusement, admiring you in this state. You locked eyes for a moment, then his gaze fell to your lips, still tinted red.

“Gonna let me finish the job?” he drawled.

You answered by reconnecting your mouths, where he eagerly slid in his tongue. A large hand pressed against your ribs, keeping you close to him. As if you’d ever want to leave. He tilted his head and began trailing heated kisses down your neck, loving how your breath trembled.

A tender smile graced his features between kisses, “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?”

You shook your head, “Never thought I was anything special.”

“Nobody ever make you feel special?” he pulled back enough to look at you, brows turned upward.

You shook your head again, playing it up with a pout.

“I will,” he vowed, laying back on the couch and pulling you with him.

You rested on top of him, the hem of your dress creeping up your thighs. Your heart was hammering wildly, you wondered if he could feel it against his chest.

You marveled at the way he was looking at you, longingly, like you really were special. Unable to take the intensity of gaze, you closed the gap between you again. You were so warm all over, melting into him. His palms rested on your lower back, fingers inching lower.

“You don’t have to be such a gentleman,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Just tryin’ to take my time with you baby, treat you right.”

You made out lazily, the noise from the TV long forgotten. His hands roamed over you, but always stopped short of where you wanted him. Your eyelids became so heavy, you couldn’t open them as you dipped your head to the crook of his neck. His cologne hadn’t worn off, and you breathed in the scent between kisses to his collarbone.

“You tired baby?” he asked.

“No.”

“You’re fallin’ asleep on me sweetheart.”

“No I’m not.”

“Okay,” he rolled his eyes and smiled into your hair.

“You’re just so warm,” you thought out loud.

A few minutes later, he nudged you lightly. You were dead asleep. He picked you up gently and carried you to his bedroom. Laying you down, he paused to think. If you were his, he’d take off that dress and put you in one of his shirts to sleep in. But you weren’t, and as much as he wanted you to be comfortable, he didn’t want to cross a line. Hell, if you were his, he’d just crawl in bed with you. But you weren’t, and as much as he wanted to just be close to you, he was deeply unwilling to tread over any uncertain boundaries. Couch for him tonight.

Before leaving your side, he brushed your hair away from your face and whispered to himself, “Where have you been all my life?”

Masterlist

Chapter 7

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou game #joel the last of us #joel tlou

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