#of still getting bills of still being in pain of still not feeling comfortable driving

[familyvideostevie]

a kind of hunger | chapter 1

joel miller x fem!reader

series masterlist

joel miller walks into your life just as it starts to fall apart. surely some hot nights with the bar's newest regular can't hurt, right?

length: 9.2k

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, slightly painful sex, dirty talk, size kink if you squint, joel is a liiiiiiiitle mean if you squint, general feelings of loneliness and angst from r in her free time

a/n: huge thank you to @strangerfreaks without whom this would never have gotten off the ground. also to all the joel writers on this site, i love you, i am in awe of you. please allow me to give it a go myself <3

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The first time you sleep with Joel Miller you know it won't be the last. 

But that's not where this story starts. 

It starts in a bar. Nothing special about it, really. Staffed half by college kids who come and go, half by drifters who, for some reason, stopped drifting once they found this dimly lit, sticky-floored hole in the wall. Not quite a local institution but not forgettable, never totally empty. It's got pool tables and a jukebox but also clean bathrooms aside from the graffiti and two new-ish TVs showing whatever the first guy who gets there wants to watch.

Point is, you work there. One of those drifters who stopped drifting. The guy who owns it, some crotchety old fuck called Bill, rents you the apartment above the bar for a decent price considering it's loud until 2am on the weekends and midnight all the other days. Loud enough that even on nights you don't work it feels like you're there anyway. But you get used to it. It's called Frank's, which you don't totally understand, but you're not about to ask questions of the guy who has finally allowed you to slow down and take a breath who is also your boss and landlord.

You've worked there long enough to have learned the names and orders of all the regulars who've been coming in since long before you walked through the door and to have seen some new regulars enter the rotation. In truth, you've worked there long enough to basically be running the place. It's still the bar in your head, not your bar because getting attached will do you no good. This is how it always goes: you care too much but it never seems like anyone cares back. You cut and run before you can be disappointed and you’ve already been here longer than you’d expected to be because it’s something close to comfortable. 

Almost no one messes with you despite being younger than most of the clientele and on the off chance some frat boy from the city decides to take a cheap shot you've got a small army of imposing customers on your side. Between them and your coworkers, it's almost like you're not alone. 

Almost.

The hours you spend away from the bar are spent alone. You don't have many numbers in your phone and the ones you do you don't call. You go on drives in the shitty truck you bought off some guy when you moved here. You browse used bookstores and suffer the heat of the day on long walks and wonder if this is all there is. You think of what it might be like to feel something other than rootless.

One thing that helps is…sex. Being close to someone for even a little while, letting yourself be seen in a way that doesn’t require you to totally show your hand. You try not to make a habit of actually fucking your clientele. It can get messy quickly, guys coming in and expecting more than a good pour. Being offended when you don't give them a free round, don't make eyes at them over the oiled wood. It's easier to be alone, that much you've learned. It's easier and it's simpler and it means you've only got yourself to blame for the hurt you sometimes feel laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as some rock song thrums up through the floor. 

And if you do fuck someone from the bar, you keep it simple. You do, however, try really hard not to sleep with regulars. And no staying over. A classic, unspoken rule of sleeping with strangers that you rarely verbalize but make sure to enforce every time. It keeps things neat. The last thing you need is mess. Who knows how long you'll stay in this town, in this little apartment and this shitty bar. You've got a lot of years left, a lot of years you should probably spend in classrooms or an office or falling in love with some nice guy with a nice family who can give you a nice life. 

But you're here. 

And then, one day, so is Joel.

Being a good bartender is memorization, paying attention, and keeping a level head. You know how to make pretty much any drink even though your regulars are mostly the simple beer or Jack and Coke kind of people. You swear you can tell when a glass is going to fall a second before it shatters, spot a punch before it can be thrown. So you notice when a man you've never seen before walks through the door.

You notice how the energy of the room changes, how multiple pairs of eyes follow him as he settles at the end of the half-full bar. Dark hair shot through with grey, green shirt rolled up over chorded forearms that he rests on the wood. It feels like you should know him but you don't. You've never seen him before.

You finish pouring beers for some giggly girls before making your way over to him. His eyes track you.

You wonder what he'll order. A shot, maybe, based on the tense line of his shoulders. Or a dark beer. Maybe something strong. You hope he won't be one of those guys you have to peel off the bar in a few hours. "Can I get you something?"

"Whiskey, rocks," he says. You can hear the Texas drawl even from so few words. Deep, low, measured. "Cheapest you got."

For some reason, it feels like he's returning and you're the new one. "Wanna start a tab?"

"I'll do cash at the end," he says. Ah, one of those. Guy getting away from his wife, maybe. Tough day at work. Doesn't want to leave tracks. You can relate to that.

"Joel fuckin’ Miller," one of your regulars says as you turn to grab a glass. He claps the man -- Joel -- on the shoulder. "Heard you were back up this way," he says. "Good to see you, man."

Joel simply inclines his head once like he's not thrilled to be recognized. The dismissal is clear. And, weirdest of all, it works. You've seen insults hurled between friends for less.

You set his drink down, the amber liquid sloshing around the ice. 

"Thanks," he mutters. The dismissal is...less clear, but you've got other customers to tend to. And Joel doesn't seem particularly chatty.

Your eyes return to him for the next hour or so but he never waves you over for another round. Heat trails up and down your spine and you have to tell yourself that he's not watching you. That would be too optimistic, right? At one point you take a bathroom break and when you're back he's gone, wrinkled bills stacked under the glass. Enough for his drink and a decent tip. 

Joel comes in three more times over the next month before you sleep with him. Each time he orders the same drink, leaves the same tip. He sits alone at the bar, occasionally saying hello when someone approaches but no one ever sits next to him. He's gruff but only ever polite to you, doesn't get impatient when it takes you a minute to get to him. 

And he's really something to look at. The tick in his jaw, the veins in his neck. His skin is tanned, dotted with small scars that must come from a lifetime of hard work. He wears a watch and jeans that hug his ass in an almost indecent way, a way that has you watching him when he's not on a stool. Sometimes you catch him smirking to himself when there's some shit going on at the bar, gossip or people being loud for no reason. You wonder what his laugh sounds like and scold yourself for it. No harm in looking but there's the possibility of harm in thinking too much. You know better.

The third time he comes in is a bad night. It's busy for some reason and everyone is a fucking asshole. You weren't even supposed to work tonight but one of the seasonal kids had banged on your door begging you to come help, promising you all the tips for tonight if you did. You knew it would make you look good to Bill and despite yourself, you didn’t want to leave them hanging, so here you are, sweaty and pissed and smelling like beer, doing your best to empty the dishwasher in between drink orders and praying the keg doesn't need changing. 

You don't even notice when Joel comes in, only spotting him once he's managed to scare some college kid from a seat at the bar. For some reason, his presence makes you a little calmer in the chaos. 

"Be with you in a sec, Joel," you say to him when you're near. You don't call him by his name since he never actually introduced himself to you but it slips out in the rush. His nostrils flare but you don't have time to linger on it even as you feel the hot weight of his gaze. 

"No rush."

You manage to get him what you know by now to be his usual only to be called over by your least favorite customer of the night as soon as he's thanked you. 

"Honey," the asshole says. This fucker's name is Seth and he's a pain in your ass. "Gimme another, will you? Make it a heavy pour." This would be his fifth and he's already slurring his words. 

"Don't think so," you tell him firmly. "I'm cutting you off for tonight, Seth." He's liable to start some shit or at the very least throw up on the floor and you don't want to deal with either. You don't have time to deal with either. 

His bloodshot eyes narrow and he slams a fist on the bar. You manage not to flinch, though pretty much everyone else does. "That's not good fucking service, sweetcheeks," he leers. 

"Good thing I don't give a fuck," you snap. "Get the fuck out of here before you do something you regret, sweetcheeks.” The venom in your tone seems to surprise him before sheer rage takes over. You've thrown out plenty of assholes in your time here but it's not always a smooth experience.

Seth leans forward over the bar, reaches for you -- to do what, you have no idea -- and you prepare yourself to yell for backup and then kick him out for good and maybe get a punch in as he goes. His fingers manage to hook in your shirtsleeve before a hand closes around his wrist.

Before Seth can scream he's got his outstretched arm behind his back, face twisted in pain. Behind him is --

Joel?

The bar is almost silent. You can hear a few whispers over the blood pumping in your ears. 

"I'd get out of here if I were you," Joel hisses. He glances at you, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Are you okay? he seems to be asking. You nod. 

Seth whimpers. "Let me go," he says weakly. 

"Just gonna show you the door." Joel all but drags him through the parting crowd. 

"Jesus," someone says behind you. One of the seasonal kids. "You okay?"

"I'm taking my break." You leave the kid behind the bar to fend for himself and barrel into the back and through the side door into the alley where you always take your 15. It's one of those weird cold fall nights, just the wrong side of chilly to be here without a jacket but you left it in the bar office.

The milk carton you sit on has been turned over so you kick it back with a thud and slump down onto it. The light above the door flickers. "This shit is getting old," you say to no one. You kick aside cigarette butts that aren't yours and wonder how long you can do this. What would be next, anyway? You've got a laundry list of failed dreams and no one wondering if you're going to make something of yourself. Long nights at a bar you care about more than you should and rowdy customers and handsome men who barely say a word to you can't last forever, can it? Would anyone here even notice if you left?

The door flies open, startling you out of your thoughts. 

Joel steps into the alley. Somehow he manages to yet again look like he was meant to be here and you're the one who is out of place. You blink at him and he stares back like he wasn't sure he'd find you here.

"Got lost?" you ask. "Pretty sure you know where the front door is."

He lets the metal door swing shut and crosses his arms. "Was lookin' for you."

That catches you by surprise. "Why?"

Joel shrugs, a small lift of his shoulders. His expression doesn't budge. "Sorry for makin' trouble."

Oh, right. Seth. You wave him off. "Just another night," you say. "I'd have handled it." You stand from the crate and lean against the brick wall. It's true. Seth isn't the first asshole you've handled.

"I bet you would've," Joel mutters. He takes one step closer. You're reminded all at once how good-looking he is, how you've wondered what his hands would feel like on your skin. There's no way he's ever thought of you, right? You're just some girl who pours him drinks, too young and too forgettable. He was just having a man moment, wanting to save the day or some shit like that. 

"I don't have a cigarette or anything if you want to smoke," you say. This close he doesn't smell like tobacco but you don't know what else to say. "Sorry."

"So you just sit in alleys on your break for fun?"

"I like this alley," you say, suddenly a bit defensive. "It's a nice alley." You take a step towards him. He uncrosses his arms and his hands flex at his sides. You shiver. "No one bothers me out here."

Joel tilts his head to the side. "That so?" His eyes are dark under the dim light. When did he get so close? When did your face get so hot?

"Except guys who drink whiskey on the rocks, I guess," you say. It comes out much softer than you'd like, your voice cracking. The air doesn't have the same bite as it did seconds ago. Joel's expression hovers between something you recognize and something you don't, something you desperately want to figure out. "Good thing I don't mind." The adrenaline from the small altercation hasn't left and the swirl of emotions about your whole shitty life has you on edge, has you wanting to play with fire.

You're so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, feel the heat of him in the still night. Joel's eyes rake over your face, looking for something, something you try very hard to show him so that he might fucking do it, meet the want that is suddenly uncontrollable halfway, or at least tell you if he's not interested so you can --

Your name is a groan in his throat and then he's kissing you. His palm cups the back of your head as he presses you into the wall, his other hand firm on your hip, fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt hard enough to bruise. He tastes like the whiskey you served him. You fist one hand in his collar and wind the other into his hair.

Joel controls the kiss but you give as good as you get. He licks into your mouth and you suck on his lower lip. His beard rubs against your face in a delicious burn and when you tug on his hair he makes a noise you must hear again. The brick behind you scrapes a bit but you hardly notice when he presses against you, slides a thigh between your legs and you feel him hard through his jeans. 

"S'not right, you lookin' so good yellin' at that asshole," he grumbles into your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. You cant your hips and he hisses.

"Speak for yourself," you manage. "Always got your eyes on me, don't you?" It feels like a risk to call him on it. Control of the situation is slipping from your grasp, this man who you never thought would actually touch you now holding you in his arms, his lips on your skin. He pulls back from your neck and smirks, eyes dark. 

"'Spose I do." 

You can work with that. You surge forward to kiss him again and this time he lets you call the shots while still meeting your bruising caresses with his own.

"Joel." You tug on his hair.

He makes that noise again.

It might be five minutes, it might be an hour. You have no idea. All you know is you can still feel his cock through the denim and you're so turned on you might combust in this alley. Or at the very least let him fuck you in it.

"I don't close tonight," you pant. One of Joel's hands has worked its way into your back pocket and the other has rucked up your shirt to rest on your bare back. 

"What?" he growls.

"My shift. I'm off at 11." You tap his watch. He glances at it and sees it read 10:30. "Half hour. I live upstairs."

For a second you think he'll say no. Walk away with a nod of his head and out of your life forever. Wouldn't be the first, wouldn't be the last. You're already breaking one of your rules by even considering sleeping with him but there's just something about him. The way he looks at you, the way his hands feel on your skin. You want to know what he'll feel like inside you. Maybe you’re still in this town because you were waiting for him to walk through the door.

"Alright," he says. He clears his throat and releases you. You fuss with your hair and straighten your shirt and he adjusts himself in his jeans. "Half hour." His dark eyes narrow as he glances down the alley back towards the street. 

"Take a walk around the block or something," you tell him, swallowing the urge to laugh at him so handsome and disheveled from your hands. Never in a million years would you have predicted that tonight would go this way. "My door is on the other side of the building. I'll let you up."

The urge to flatten the damage your hands did to his hair is so overwhelming for a second that you step away from him towards the door. His eyes follow you, expression unreadable. How many nights would it take for you to know what he's thinking? Careful, you think, or you'll be tempted to find out. 

Joel watches you until you give him a little wave and slip back into the bar. The metal door clangs shut behind you and you lean against it, knees still wobbly. Is this actually happening? Are you really this overwhelmed by making out with some guy in an alley? You check the clock on the wall and curse. Your break ended ten minutes ago though since no one came looking for you it's probably no big deal. Being mostly in charge has its perks.

The bar is a little less crowded than when you left so you grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. Joel's seat is empty, his glass gone. 

"Oh, hey," the seasonal kid says. "That guy, uh, Joel? He said to make sure you get this." He pulls out Joel's usual tip from his apron and holds it out to you.

Considering you're planning to go upstairs and fuck him until you can't walk, you don't feel like taking his tip tonight. "It's yours," you say. "Thanks for handling everything while I was out back." The kid blinks at you but knows better than to refuse, pocketing the cash and going back to loading the dishwasher. 

You finish your shift. Your blood feels electric, your skin hot. Can anyone in this bar tell what happened in the alley? You haven't felt this way about a hookup in ages. Like you were wanted, not just convenient. It's just one night, right? Maybe he'll never come to the bar again, which makes your chest tighten for a second. Maybe you're about to ruin something you don't totally understand. But you haven't gotten this far in life by worrying about shit like that, so you clock out and wave goodbye and make your way to the other side of the building. 

Joel isn't there. You unlock the door to the stairwell so you can at least wait for him inside when you hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel under boots. You fist your key between your knuckles just in case but before you can turn around you hear your name in that Texas drawl. 

"Just me," he says. You don't know if Joel Miller is capable of looking nervous but this is probably close. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets. A thrill runs up your spine. Are you really doing this? Are you really about to bring this man up to your apartment and hope to god he does whatever you want to you? 

"Come on up." Yes. Yes, you are. You give him a smile and he follows you up to the landing. 

"S'loud," he mutters once you shut the door. The bar's music wasn't that loud when you were in it and up here it's a dull hum, people's voices and laughter slipping through the cracks like a TV left on a little too high in the other room. These days it's background noise to you but you figure Joel lives in a house somewhere with lots of land and open windows and silence. He seems like the type to like silence. 

Jacket on the hook, shoes clumsily thrown on the mat, keys in the dish. Your normal routine except there’s a man in your living room, too. He looks around the space, hands still in his pockets. You try not to be self-conscious about your place. It's small, sure, the bedroom visible through the currently open French doors in the small living room. Your kitchen is tiny, bathroom tinier, but it's all yours. "You get used to it," you say. "I hardly mind it anymore."

"Didn't say I did," he says. You both stand there for a few moments before Joel takes two big steps and crowds you against the door, one hand on your hip and the other next to your head. "Means they won't hear us." You swallow a gasp as he drags his nose along the curve of your jaw, breath hot on your skin. You were going to ask him if you could shower first since you undoubtedly smell like sweat and beer but clearly, he doesn't mind. His tongue darts out and he sucks on your pulse point, your own hands clutching desperately at his shirt. If he moves you're sure you'll melt into a puddle on the floor. "Means you can be as loud as you want," he growls. "That sound good?"

Any breath remaining in your body rushes out and you jerk your hips to make contact with the hardness in his jeans. "Yeah," you gasp. You can feel something like a smile against your neck. "That sounds good."

It's a dynamic you don't mind stepping into -- whatever this is. Every second of your life you feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everyone around you to get tired. Your eyes are always on the exit, always wondering where you'll go next, what you'll leave behind this time. Even when you're fucking strangers you're always wondering how you'll get them to leave. You’re better off alone. But right here, right now, with Joel's heavy scent of sawdust and whiskey and something earthy, something grounding, in your nostrils, his hands and his mouth on you, nothing else matters. Your brain shuts off and you're just here.

You grab Joel's jaw and guide his lips back to yours. He allows it and you moan deep in your throat as he tongues back into your mouth, your own trying to give as good as you're getting. He pops the button on your jeans and you help him with frantic hands, shoving them down your hips along with your underwear so he can ghost his fingers through your coarse curls. He pulls back from the kiss to watch as he drags two fingers through your folds. Your eyes lock and he smirks as your lids flutter.

"Soaked," is all he says. You tip your head forward and rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"Don't be smug."

He huffs. "I ain't trying to sound like an asshole, but --"

"Already failed." He nips at your earlobe.

"Gotta work you open a bit, sweetheart," he says. His fingers circle your clit once, ever so slowly. Your grip on his bicep tightens and you wonder if you'll leave bruises. You hope so. "Gonna be a tight fit."

"Heard -- fuck -- that before," you gasp. Joel really fucking knows what he's doing. "I -- bed?"

"Smart girl," he says. You're pretty sure you get wetter. He pulls his fingers free but keeps a hold on your hip like he knows your knees are jelly. "Sit on the edge." 

You leave your jeans and underwear behind and make your way to the bed through the French doors, sitting heavily on the quilt, knees bent and leaning on your hands behind you. Before you can say another word, Joel lowers to his knees between yours. He pries them apart even further and runs his hands up and down your thighs. 

For a few seconds, you can't find the words. This man, older than you and impossibly handsome, face lined with years he's lived and hands callused with work he's done, this man that you hardly know anything about but can't get out of your mind, is on his knees before you.

"You gonna be okay down there?" is what you come up with.

"You always talk this much?" he mutters, though his mouth tugs up at the corner. Joel's forearms wrap around your legs and he tugs. You fall flat on your back in surprise and your ass almost hangs off the bed. He draws one of your legs over his shoulder and kneads the flesh of your thigh, eyes dark and jaw twitching as he spreads you open and just looks. "Might have to help me up but I think I'll be just fine."

"Joel --" 

The end of his name becomes a high-pitched moan when he leans in and buries his face in your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down through your folds, nose catching your clit in a way that makes you squirm. His beard scrapes against your skin deliciously, leaving a sting that you know you'll be able to see evidence of when he's done. He laps at you before finally taking your clit in his mouth and sucking like his life depends on it. It's only his hand on your outstretched thigh keeping you from suffocating him between your legs, though you're not sure he'd mind.

"Should be a crime," he says. You look down the length of your body at him. His chin is wet with you, eyes meeting yours when he feels your stare. "Cunt this pretty tastin' so good."

How do you reply to that?

He's back at it before you can even try. Joel gets messy with it, the sounds of his attention loud and filthy. He tells you how wet you are, how good you taste, and your eyes flutter shut again.

"How're we doing?" 

"Don't stop," you manage. "Just, don't stop--"

He prods your entrance with one finger. "Reckon you can take it, hmm? You're so wet it'll be easy." There's a bite to his tone, a sense of amusement mixed with awe like he can hardly believe it either. 

"Two," you gasp. "I can take two." You need two, in fact. His hands are one of the few parts of him you've been able to study and you know his fingers are long, much thicker than yours and you need them to fill you up, need them to stretch you out. You need something to clench around because right now you feel like you're on the edge of the pleasure building in your core and if you don't get a release soon you'll just…just…combust. 

Joel hums but you feel a second finger nudge into you. He slides them in and curls them as he goes. Your back arches off the bed.

"Dunno," he coos. "Pretty tight, sweetheart." The slight meanness to his words is in complete contrast with the gentle, attentive way he handles you. Who knew he'd be such a fucking tease.

"Well get to work, then." He scissors the digits inside of you in reply and returns to sucking on your clit. You reach down and bury your hand in his silver-streaked hair, tugging a bit harder than you intend to. Joel just moans into your cunt, the vibration making it feel like your very pelvis is rattling as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. 

Sweat beads on your brow as you try to hold on. He picks up the pace and presses into your walls with his fingertips like he's looking for something. His tongue wreaks havoc on the rest of you, sucking bruises into your inner thighs when he's not abusing your clit. If this is just the foreplay you don't know how you'll survive actually fucking him. And he hasn't even asked you to touch him, hasn't shown even a hint of expectation. He's doing this to get you ready but based on the blown state of his pupils he's enjoying it almost as much as you are. 

"Getting close?" he asks, breath ragged. Your skin is starting to feel deliciously raw from his beard and the hook in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter. 

"Yes -- fuck -- I'm close, Joel, keep --"

His hand moves faster than before and he latches back onto your clit. Your legs start to shake and you feel your orgasm coming, it's just right there, you just need him to --

His fingers find the spot he must have been looking for and your only warning is a sharp tug on his hair and then your back arches and you come all over his face. He fingers fucks you through it and you feel it as your walls clench around him, your mouth open in a high whine as your muscles finally relax and you flop back onto the bed. Joel keeps his face in your cunt, gently lapping at your release while avoiding your sensitive clit. You push his hair back from his face and try to get your breathing under control.

He manages to get up on his own with a grunt as you pant on the bed. "Okay?" he asks. "Lookin' a little tired." You show him your middle finger and he...laughs, lips shiny with your slick. So he can laugh. 

"Are you going to keep your clothes on?" you ask him. His eyes travel slowly over your bare bottom half, the redness of your thighs from his beard and the way your shirt has rucked up to the wire of your bra. 

"Nah." He sits heavily on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and socks. You want to ask him if you can undress him, slowly peel off his layers button by button and explore every inch of him but you won't be able to take it if he says no so you just watch. Already you know you'll be thinking about this night for a long fucking time. The way it seems like he cares about how you're feeling, how he wants to take his time with you, how he enjoys your pleasure. It's nice. It's...making you feel wanted.

His denim button-up is tossed on the floor and he stands, shirtless, to undo his belt. The forearms and small triangle at his throat that you've been treated with thus far when he sits at the bar in no way prepared you for the rest of him. Broad shoulders, thick, muscled arms from years of hard work. Graying chest hair that travels all the way down the slight softness of his belly and in a darker trail his jeans. Your mouth waters. 

"You're starin'," he says softly before unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and boxers down in one motion. 

"Taste of your own medicine." The words come out with much less bite than you intended as his cock springs free. 

Well, he wasn't lying. He is big. You knew he would be based on what you felt through his pants, but seeing it is something else. 

You sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to be closer. Is he really going to fit? He's bigger than anyone you've fucked before, that's for sure. A ruddy color, a little darker than his tanned chest, the tip a little lighter and already leaking. A few veins run the length of him and the hair at the base of his shaft is clearly taken care of though a little wild and a shade of deep brown that hasn't grayed much yet. His balls hang heavy, one slightly bigger than the other. He twitches under your gaze. You look up at him and wait for him to call out your staring again but instead, he's just watching you, pupils blown. 

"You are...so beautiful," you breathe. He makes a dismissive noise but a flush travels up his chest and to his face. It's true. There's something about him that makes you think you could look every second for the rest of your life and not get enough.

"Should be sayin' that to you." He strokes himself once and you lick your lips. "You got a condom? Should be one in my pocket if you don't." Does he always carry one? Or did he hope to get lucky with you, just like you've been thinking about him?

"Bedside table drawer." He goes for it and you remember too late that the drawer has...other things in it, too. His eyebrows raise and he eyes your small collection of toys but says nothing, though his cock twitches again. If you asked, would he use them on you? He seems like the type to be into that. But right now you need him inside you so badly you might combust.

"Can I?" He pauses before handing the foil square to you. You take him in hand and stroke him from root to tip. He makes a noise low in his throat and you lean in to trace the vein along the bottom of his shaft with your tongue. His hips twitch forward just a bit like he's trying to keep control and failing. You know the feeling. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the slightest bit salty. You kind of lose the plot for a second, thoughts of him fucking you fading with the desire to make him feel good like this, to blow him until he's moaning your name like you were moaning his.

Joel slides his fingers into your hair and you manage to take him about halfway before he tugs gently. "I'm not complainin'," he says, voice tight. "'Specially when you look so damn pretty like this. But I've been hard as a fuckin' rock for an hour and I ain't as young as I used to be, so..." He trails off.

You place a dainty kiss on his tip and pat his hip. "Another time," you say, realizing too late what you've implied, but Joel just smirks. You tear open the foil and slide the condom on as gingerly as you can but he still hisses your name like he's scolding you, that hand in your hair pulling once again just a little. You feel the arousal pooling in your gut, sticky between your thighs. 

He tugs on the collar of your shirt. "Off," he says. You're quick to obey, whipping it to a corner of your apartment along with your bra. Joel just looks for a second before reaching a calloused hand to palm one breast, thumb sliding over your nipple. "Look at you," he says, breathy, with a squeeze. "Christ."

"You gonna fuck me, Joel Miller?" You blink up at him. He swallows visibly, throat bobbing before that smirk is back. 

"Only ‘cause you asked so nicely." 

You scramble back up the bed on your hands and knees, leaning down on your elbows and presenting him with your bare cunt. "Cause I'm such a lady."

"That so?" he murmurs. He drags his fingers through your folds slowly, brows furrowed. You fist your hands in the sheets. "You want it like this?" he asks. He palms your hip, traces the curve of your ass and presses his fingertips into your skin. You wiggle at him a little. Most guys you hook up with want it like this. You don't mind being fucked from behind, don't mind being able to close your eyes with your face shoved in the sheets and just feel. God knows with a dick his size you'll be feeling it regardless of the position you're in. But part of you does want to look at Joel, to watch him, his expression, his handsome, rugged face. Feel his arms around you, feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he fucks you. See what his eyes look like when he comes. But this is enough.

"Do I need to say please?"

The head of his cock presses against your entrance in reply. You crane your neck to see as much of him as you can. He's focused on your ass with a light frown, hands resting on your hips.

"Gonna go slow," he grumbles. His gaze meets yours. "For my benefit as much as yours."

Words don't come. You're breathless and dripping, desperate for him to just get on with it. 

"Joel, are you gonna just stand there --"

He slowly, torturously slowly, starts to slide into you. The stretch is immediate, has you face down in the sheets, eyes fluttering. Each inch of painful stretch fades quickly to throbbing pleasure, a fullness that has you keening. 

You press your hips back into him but his fingers grip tighter, holding you in place. "What did I say?" he grits out. 

"Feels so good, so big," you babble. There's nothing left in your brain, your body, but this. But Joel. You have to have all of him. "I can take it, I can take your cock, I --"

"Got quite the mouth on you, huh?" he says. He keeps pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch. "Okay?" he pants. "Look at me, tell me it feels good --"

You crane your neck again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and look at him. His own are lidded, mouth open in an "o" like he can hardly believe it himself. A flush runs down his chest and if you didn't know better you'd say he's trembling.

"Yes, I -- god, Joel, keep going, please --"

"Doin' good, sweetheart," he coos. His hand strokes up and down your spine. "Almost there. Almost takin' all of me."

He bottoms out and you see stars. You feel lips on your back, the warm puffs of his breath on your skin as he waits for you. It's a fine line between pain and pleasure and you're walking the tightrope but the stretch is delicious. You can feel every inch of him. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you shift your hips a little, loving it when Joel moans.

"Alright," you manage. "Move, please." His fingertips are back on your hips and give you a squeeze before he starts to drag his cock out of you. The tip of him catches the spot inside of you that makes your back arch as he pulls out and then again when he thrusts in. 

"All that work, my fingers and my tongue and you're still so fuckin' tight. Christ."

The only thing you manage to say is a litany of his name.

"Lemme hear it, baby," he grinds out. Baby. "Be so loud those fuckers downstairs hear you--"

You meet his thrusts as best you can and even though it feels so good, even though you're so full, it's not bringing you to the edge like you need. Your neck is starting to hurt from the way you're twisting to see him, your fingers gripping the sheets as hard as you can because you want to be touching him instead. But this is good, this works, maybe if you touch your clit, you'll --

You reach between your legs and Joel pulls out. You get off your elbows and turn around, almost gasping at the loss of him. "Is something wrong?"

He's frowning at you. "Should be askin' you that."

You don't know what to say. Your cunt throbs a little from being empty, the ache settling in now that he's not there to literally fuck it away. "What?"

"You stopped makin' those noises," he says softly. “The ones you were makin’ before.” You turn around and sit facing him, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Ain't gonna fuck you in a position you don't like."

"I --" You try to fight through the haze of your brain for words. "I liked it fine."

Joel waits. He just stands there at the edge of the bed and waits. 

"Maybe..." you try again. "Would on my back be okay for you?"

His eyebrows raise like he can't believe you'd think otherwise. "That'll work for me," he says slowly. "Grab a pillow." You shift back on the bed as he kneels on it, positioning himself between your legs. You hand him one of your pillows and he taps your hip. "Up." You obey and he slides it under you so your lower half is lifted a bit before he presses one leg to the side, spreading you open. He slowly bends the other so that your thigh is pressed against your torso in a deep stretch without being painful. You feel bare, exposed in a way he somehow hasn't yet achieved. 

Joel fixes his gaze on your face. "Let's try that." He strokes himself once and then leans over you, bracing himself on one hand near your head. He lines up to press his cock into you again. Faster than last time, you wince a little but you dig your fingertips into his back to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out and you immediately feel the difference, eyes fluttering shut. Before it was like he was plowing into you, like you were so full you could hardly handle it. But like this it's like he's melting into you, like there is no space between you anymore. You're full but it's not so harsh. You don’t know where you end and he begins.

"That better?" he croaks. You force yourself to look at him and find his face closer, closer than you thought he'd get, breath warm on your face. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his eyes search your face. This close you can see they’re grey, the lines at the corners deep with strain. Even like this, stuffed full of his cock, you could look at him all day.

"Move, Joel," you tell him. He takes that for a yes and starts at a punishing pace. You have no idea how he's kept it together this long, considering you've felt on the edge of another orgasm this entire time. You anchor your arms on his shoulders as his thrusts make you see stars. 

"Ask for what you want, you hear me?" His balls smack loudly against you and he presses his lips to your ear. "You ask and I'll do my damn best."

You don't know what it is -- the overwhelming sensation of his cock dragging in and out at this angle, how close he is, his words -- but you feel tears at the corners of your eyes again. You nod frantically, hands grasping for purchase on his back. 

"C'mon," Joel says. "Gotta use that mouth, sweetheart."

"Yes," you pant. "Yes, yes, Joel, yes --"

"Fuckin' perfect for me," he moans. His lips trail up your cheek, tongue catching your tears before he presses them to yours in a messy kiss that's more teeth and breath than anything else. 

"Joel, Joel, Joel --"

"Gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock like you did my face?"

Your orgasm comes like the snap of a rubber band. You hold him as tight as you can as it washes through you, the waves almost painful as he keeps fucking you fast and hard, your name a series of broken sounds from his mouth until his hips stutter and he groans deep in his chest. You try to keep your eyes on him as you come down from your high and are rewarded with the scrunch of his brow and the slight part of his lips as he comes. Beautiful, you think. 

The room is all of sudden much quieter without the sounds of your fucking. It's just the dull sounds of Frank's through the floor and your combined panting as he pulls out of you and flops on the bed beside you. You wince this time, the soreness really settling in. Joel finds your hand and kisses the back of it in a move so unexpectedly tender you can't look at him, raw as you are already. The bed shifts and you figure he's throwing out the condom. 

"You okay?" he says. You open your eyes and find him standing at the edge, looking at you. He's holding your robe from the bathroom. You stretch and let him look. 

"Yeah," you reply. You give him a smile as you scoot to the edge and wrap yourself in it when he holds it out. "Thank you." Joel grunts. 

You go to the bathroom yourself to pee and see the damage. Hair a mess, your mascara gathered around your eyes like you've been working hard. You've got hickies forming on your neck and chest, the skin rubbed a bit raw from his beard around your mouth. You love how you look right now. 

You look like you got fucked well. And you did. 

But now you want a shower and a snack and to go to bed. 

You half expect Joel to be gone when you go back into the bedroom. You remember belatedly that you don't let hookups stay the night. Will he leave if you ask him to? If he's already left then you don't need to worry about it. A small part of you worries you won’t ask him to go.

Instead, he's sitting on the edge of your bed putting his boots on. His shirt is unbuttoned but other than that he's dressed. He looks up briefly. His own hair is going in a thousand different directions and if this wasn't a one-night stand you'd fix it for him, a hand pushing it back like you did when he was between your thighs. But things are different outside the heat of the moment. 

"You want some water or anything?" you ask instead.

He shakes his head and finishes his boot, stands and buttons his shirt. "Nah," he says. "Should just head out."

You wonder belatedly if there's anyone at home missing him. Maybe he's got a wife. Maybe he's got a life that he's running away from and into your arms. 

"Bar'll be closed by now, or as good as," you say. You spy his jacket by the door and bend to pick it up. "No one'll see you."

Joel's face does something funny that you don't quite know how to read. He takes his jacket from you and shrugs it on. "Alright," he says. 

He looks awkward in a way you didn't know he could so you throw him a line. "Thanks," you say. For fucking me. For listening to me. For making me feel good. "It was fun. See you around?"

His expression softens. He steps close and gently holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger before kissing you once, firmly but chastely compared to what you were doing before. 

"See you around," he says. And then he opens the door and disappears down the stairs. 

You hear the outer door close and only then do you let out a breath. Your entire body feels like you just spent hours at the gym. But your mind? It's going a thousand miles an hour. You don't know what to think about first -- how Joel looked, how he spoke to you, how his hands felt. How he implored you to ask for what you wanted, how he made you feel good because it made him feel good. How you desperately, desperately want to see him again, to know him in every possible way. How you want him to walk back up the stairs and hold you until you fall asleep.

And that's not how you expected to feel. It's not how you should feel after a one-night stand with a guy you serve a few times a week at your place of employment. Like he saw right to the core of you, like he gave you something you didn't know you needed. 

You need to get a hold of yourself. This is how it starts -- this is how you get hurt. You care. Well, you always care, but no one has to know that. You let someone care about you. Not that Joel does, but he could. 

But isn't that the one thing you want most of all? 

You sleep in the next day. There's not much that needs to be done at Frank's besides bookkeeping and inventory which doesn't take you long. When you finally make it downstairs, three Advil popped to ease the soreness of your entire body, you're surprised to find Bill himself sitting at the bar. 

He looks just as you remember, hair a little longer and a little grayer. Shit kickers and jeans, a hunting jacket and trucker hat. You'll bet his actual truck is parked around back where no one from the road can see it. 

"Uh, hi?" Bill hasn't come around for at least a year, which is making your stomach sink a little. The last time was when there was a fire because some dumbass tried to smoke inside and he wanted to make sure you weren't going to quit on him for having to throw water on the nasty curtains. 

"Heard about Seth," he says. Always right to the point, this guy. He's drinking what looks to be Coke with a lemon. "Sit." You do as he says. So much for bookkeeping.

"Yep," you say. You have no idea where he heard it and know better than to ask. "No big deal."

"I want to retire."

What? "Do you...work here?" Bill appreciates honesty and he's the kind of asshole that respects you if you're an asshole back. 

"No," he says. "But I own the fuckin' dump. And me and Frank want to retire."

"There's a Frank?"

"My partner, dumbass. Keep up."

You were already groggy and still muddled from last night but this is forcing you to bring everything into sharp focus. Bill wants to retire. Which means he wants to...

"So my options are to sell this dump or find someone to take it."

If he sells the bar you're shit out of luck. No way another owner would let you live upstairs the way you do for next to nothing and let you work here and run the show. This is...a lot to take in.

"Are you listening to me?" Bill says. You blink a few times. 

"No," you admit. "Can you say that again?"

He sighs. "Do you want it?"

"The bar?" you ask incredulously. 

"No, idiot, the dumpster out back. Yes, the bar." He raps his knuckles on the bar top. "You could keep everything the same. It's just paperwork, really. I'll just give it to you. God knows a young person like you could make it nicer, turn a better profit." He says it like it's an insult. 

"Are you fucking serious?" This goes against most every rule you've had for yourself for the last who knows how long. Don't get attached, keep moving. No one really needs you so you can disappear whenever. You haven't gotten bored yet, haven't gotten restless, but you know it'll happen. There's no way you can do this forever. But owning a bar? That would make you stay. You'd have no out. You’d have to let yourself be seen, let yourself be needed. You’d have to commit. You’d have to not fuck it up.

"Why not?" he shrugs. "I know you said it was temporary back when you moved in, but you practically run it."

He's right. Everything is temporary for you. But would sticking around be so bad? Would trying to actually make a life for yourself, have a home base, a thing you care about be the end of the world? And then there's Joel...No. Not going there. 

"I..."

"Either you take it or I shut it down." Bill gets off his stool and looks around. "No one cares enough about it to try to sell it."

"Then why me?"

"Do you care about it?" he asks. His piercing stare pins you to your stool, compels you to be honest with him where you're rarely honest with yourself. 

"Yeah," you say. "I do."

"Then there's you're fuckin' answer. I know you do. You clean the shit out of this place and train the seasonal dipshits and learn the names of the fuckin’ drunks and live upstairs and make this a good place for good people to come. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice." It's possibly the most words Bill has ever said to you in a row. 

"Can I...think about it?"

He shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Not too long, though. Gotta decide by the end of the year. Maybe earlier."

That gives you three months, give or take. To figure out what the fuck you're going to do.

With one conversation Bill has shattered your entire life here. Now there’s actually a timer on it, this little piece you’ve carved out and started to enjoy. Could you make it a real thing? Could you finally admit to yourself that this is what you want – to be wanted? To be needed? To have something that’s yours?

The bar door shuts and you realize Bill has left you alone with your thoughts. You shift in your stool and a wave of soreness rolls through you from your core. 

You thunk your forehead on the bar. “Fuck me,” you say to the empty room. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

[harrysmimi]

CEOrry Pt. 1

Synopsis: Harry finds an unexpected visitor at his bar

Series Masterlist | More of my work

YN was dragged out with her friends on a weekend. She was sulking around for what no one knew.

You see, like every other story YN's was starting to fill up with more and more trauma. It began with her wanting to move to away for studies, which did not happen with that much ease. Her mother wanted her to stay back home and work her old job. The trauma came with being scammed by people, learning hard way not to trust just about anyone who's being kind. But that was about it.

She's got everything, a nice loving family. Sure her parents don't have the best relationship but they're surviving. Her little brother is thriving in school like always. Until just a few months ago, her dad fell severely sick. Sole bread winner of her family.

All she earned went to providing herself a comfortable life, yet she sent the part of her bonus back home. To add more to that, she moved with few of her classmates as they were looking for a new roommate. That cut down bills by way far. She was able to help out her family the best she could.

She already worked two jobs.

College is a scam, she realised soon enough. It wasn't something one of her favourite YouTuber just said for fun and jokes in their videos. If she got a nice job with the degree which spent so much on already, it would have been worth it. Getting the tag of useless oldest child in her family was disheartening.

Now she has this guilt of being useless weighing on her shoulders. Well, that wouldn't be the only thing.

Her dad never let her take up any responsibilities. So it was new and difficult for her to step into his shoes.

Hopefully, until he's all recovered and healthy.

Of course, she'd still help him out!

"YN, what is wrong with you? Come on, come dance with us!" Julia, one of YN's friend's friend called for her over the over bearing music playing in this club.

All she saw was girls and boys dancing, girls and girls dancing, and boys and boy dancing, and a group of guys hovering over a girl in the corner. She seemed to be enjoying it, but apparently this place is supposed to be safe for the LGBTQIA+ people as well as girls. That particular group gave YN a weird ick for some reason.

Especially, when the girl started to seem feel a little uncomfortable. But to YN at ease those guys were thrown out of the bar immediately and the girl was safe. As YN was about to go pay her mind to something else, her best friend Kayla was pulling her towards the dance floor with a shot glass in her hand, her Fiancé following her with two glasses of shots.

One more thing to put YN on ease was, she doesn't have to pay for anything. That's what her friends said to her before they dragged her out, straight from her work.

"You need to stop sulking!" Kayla yelled so her friend could hear. "Come on, have this."

YN was handed a shot glass. Dressed in a pair of jeans and worn out hoodie she stole from her dad before she moved away, and her worn out and knock off brand Nikes shoes. She doesn't drink, but it all seemed so nice to divulge in.

"No, no, I can't." She shoved the drink back in her friend's hand.

"We have to let loose before we're swarmed by the finals." Josh, Kayla's Fiancé interfered.

Josh is an amazing guy. Like a brother to YN but, oh boy can he be a pain in the ass some times!

Being kinda manipulated by her friends and her intrusive thoughts, YN downed the drink in one go. Leaving her own self in utter surprise. Kayla and Josh looked at her concerned.

"Oh, that burns your throat!" Her yucky face made her friend burst out into laughter.

But there you go!

Another shot in, and YN was completely knocked off. Dancing with Kayla and Julia. The girls giving each other lap dances, as they drunkenly danced.

Josh was being the friend-parent as he was going to drive the girls back to their home.

"YN, what are you doing?" The group of four was disrupted by a man hovering over YN.

He stood about six feet tall, his eyes glaring into hers as he gripped on her wrist tightly. Fingertips digging into her skin along with the metal of his rings.

"Hey, hey back off!" Josh stepped in.

"Stay away!" The man warned Josh as she kept staring at YN.

She seemed completely defeated and weak. In surprise you can say? Maybe? Or she was scared? Maybe?

"What do you think you're doing?" He started dragging her to the side, to the stairs which led to the VIP section.

"Hey, where are you taking my friend?" Kayla fought with him, hitting his arms, but one glare from him as she was made quiet as well. Julia was holding onto YN for her dear life.

"Harry, please you're hurting me." YN muttered looking at the man stood infront of her.

Well, he wasn't holding onto her hand that harshly, her skin being very sensitive it was going to be red within matter of minutes. It was her survival instincts kicking in to use the puppy eyes-card. It worked as Harry loosened his grip on her wrist. He slipped the palm of his hand onto hers intertwining his fingers with hers.

It was a bit uncomfortable with his rings but the first time she held hand with him in a long time, YN realised.

"Come on, I'm taking you to your place now." He told to her.

"Oi, no she's not going anywhere with you." Julia warned Harry.

"Look, I know you're worried for your friend bit I know her, she knows me." Harry spoke calmly. "I will drop her back home, I promise."

YN's friends' are smart, even if they ask her, she's not in the right mind to give them a sensible answer. They wouldn't believe her if she said she knew this man, she's that drunk with just two shots one red wine later.

"YN do you know him?" Julia asked. At least one of the girl is not drunk her ass off, tipsy perhaps.

"Mhmm, I do know him." YN nodded. It's the truth.

YN have known Harry for little over six months now. They're great acquaintance, one of them would like to say.

"Now come on." Harry ushered her closely.

"No, I'm not letting her go!" Julia and Kayla clung onto her.

......................................................................

Back in Harry's SUV, YN sat with her friends. One was dozing off and one was glaring daggers at him through the rare view mirror as he was seated on the passenger side.

He had made an alliance that he'll take YN to her place and her friends can see she's safe and sound themself.

All three of her friends had followed her upstairs to her flat, until she was safe there. Well, her friends live there too, so they were off to bed as well.

"YN what the hell were you thinking tonight?" Harry shut the door to YN's bedroom. She stumbled towards her bed. "You said you never drink!"

"Until tonight." She pointed out, slurring on her words.

"You know you can't drink YN," he was being his calm self as he took off YN's shoes for her, "you know-"

"Stop it!" She snapped, "I know what I can and cannot do, okay? I don't want you telling me that as well. I'm trying my best!"

"I know you are, love." He cooed reaching for her carefully, "I know you are. I just want you to be careful."

"I know." She nodded. Her eyes getting teary all of a sudden.

You must be wondering, why and how YN knows Harry?

Well, she was to be a surrogate to his child, yeah...

Well, she still is, but she doesn't have a fetus in her womb.

YN was in one of those desparate panic situation when she had heard a few of the girls gossiping in her cafeteria she worked at about surrogacy. How some rich people pay the surrogate a amount for giving them a baby. How they can make hundreds and thousands even.

It usually just requires a surrogate to lend her womb, with a embryo made up from the egg and sperm from expecting parents is transferred to her uterus and she carries the baby to the full term.

Well, that seemed like more of an amazing option than taking up a third job and risk failing her classes she took out loans for. It would be over if nice months!

Well, not until it was Harry who approached her. He'd be a single parent which would mean the baby would be hers as well.

Now, she's one of the old school girls (according to many now-a-days). She wants her own kids!

At first, she refused to help him. No way, she was going to up and leave a child which would part hers biologically as well. Well, until her step-mother called saying her father needs a surgery, it is very crucial for his health.

There was no way they could pay for the surgery. And the hospital refused to go further with the procedure without the payment. That was one of the many bad and corrupt shit she hated about her country.

She had two options again, risk failing her PhD, or go give this man a child and never see it again.

In the moment all she could think about was her father. She had an amazing relationship with her dad.

She can have more kids, but she's got just one dad.

Saying, fuck all; she went head first into this. Especially when Harry was surprisingly ready to sign her a blank cheque if needed.

Harry being the millionaire he is, made her sign a contract that the child's sole custody would be his and she can not see the baby, or she's just have six months if she willingly decides she wants to breast feed the baby. It had many more conditions like those.

Everything moved very fast, there was an embryo transfer into her uterus. She was pregnant. The process was very exhausting for her.

But she had a miscarriage about six weeks ago.

YN had to promise herself not to get attached to the clump of cells growing inside her, but who can control their feelings? It hit her more than just being in physical agony.

There were chances where it would have happened but she wasn't clearly prepared for it. Whereas Harry was.

He seemed so nutral to her when she had seen him at the ER where he'd rushed her to. Or maybe it was the medications she was on which were making her feel drowsy that she couldn't read his face.

You see, Harry is like a closed book kinda man to her.

He doesn't like answering to her questions. All her answers were in the contract he made her sign he said. She wasn't to ask him any personal questions. He knew everything about her, whilst she didn't know shit.

"I didn't mean to loose the baby." She tried not to cry in front of him. "I really didn't."

"I know you didn't, YN." Harry was undoing her shoe laces as he slipped off her foot.

"I shouldn't have gotten attached to it like it was furst decided. I was hoping it would, it would..." She sighed, "you know... I should've kept my old job and stayed the fuck back home. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, look at me?" He looked up at her from where he was crouched in front of her, "I know, everything that happened wasn't on purpose, okay? This has much higher risk of failing. There's nothing you and I or the doctors can do to prevent from happening a hundred percent."

"I'll return you your money, I promise. And I'll do it again in a heartbeat." She sniffled, "I'll pay you back. With interest, I, I-"

"I'm not asking for it back, YN." He interrupted her as she slipped off her other shoe off her foot, "I need you to lie down now, okay? Lemme get you some water."

As Harry walked out, he found her friends stood in the hallway glaring at him, yet they all seemed confused. With his head down he made a quick walk to kitchen to get YN a bottle was water.

"Here drink this," he kept the bottle of water on her side table, "you have an appointment tomorrow at two, better fix that hangover by them."

"Oi, hello!" She scoffed, "watch your tone, huh! I'll rip that stupid tongue of yours out with tweezers and chop them into pieces and feed them to the stray dogs!"

Okay, that made Harry laugh...

"Yeah?" He chuckled. "You don't stray dogs in your neighborhood, darling. Now change up and go to bed, I'll have Jeremy come pick you up tomorrow."

"You are so fucking mean bruh!" She rolled her eyes, "have you ever talked to me nicely since we met? And I am supposed hand you over my baby!"

"Good night, YN." His voice was monotonous.

She just glared at him. More like a puppy face as he left her room shutting the door behind him. And she was already hating the way alcohol was making her feel.

......................................................................

"Are you dying? Why was he talking about hospital appointment?" Was Julia's first questions as they say YN down for an interrogation the next morning.

"What?" Josh stopped the girl, "who was that guy YN?"

"Why was he being bossy around you?" Kayla asked.

"Is he in the mafia, did you take a loan from him?" Julia seemed more intrigued by being concerned.

"Why was saying you're not supposed to drink?" Josh was being the parent of the group he is.

"Did you accidentally marry him? Or is Julia is right? Did you take a loan from him?"

The questions were coming from left, right, front and back which infuriated YN.

"Stop it!" She snapped, "no, I did not marry him, and yes I kinda did take a loan from him. And no, unfortunately I am not dying Julia! If I were, you'd be the first one invited to my funeral for celebration!"

"You don't celebrate on..." Julia was interrupted by Josh.

"Then who the fuck is this Harry guy?" He asked.

"Apparently he owns the bar we were at." Kayla shared.

"What the fuck!" YN almost spat out her black coffee she was drinking to cure her headache there. She couldn't sleep whole night as she felt like puking every time she lied down. She doesn't want to die choking on her own puke for god's sake! And here she was hit by the thought Harry might be richer than she thinks. That's the forth bar she had heard he own, plus a huge ass fashion label.

"Yeah!" Kayla deadpanned, "now who is he? YN you're scaring us!"

"He's just..." YN sighed, "I am to be a surrogate to his child. He's paying me for it."

"Hold the fuck up!" Julia almost screamed, "you're having a baby?"

"Julia, that's all you gather from this?" Josh sighed in defeat, "YN we want you to explain what the fuck in happening. You know you can share it with us."

"Yeah, we're your family here, darling." Kayla cooed as he reached for YN's hand carefully, knowing her mum can be a bitch sometimes and ninety-nine per cent of the times she was behind YN taking so much stress.

That was the last straw for YN. And the dam to her tears broke as she spilt her sob story in front of her friends.

"...My mother knows about this, and she blamed it on me saying I couldn't keep a baby alive inside of me, I wouldn't be able to take care of my dad!" She started sobbing at the end.

"YN, you could have asked us." Kayla suggested, "I certainly wouldn't have mind helping you out love."

"I can't, you've been saving up for your new place and your wedding. I just can't." YN shook her head.

"Why didn't you tell me then?" Julia butted in.

"Jay, I can't ask for financial help from you guys. I don't want to ruin our friendship." YN explained.

"It won't." Julia deadpanned.

"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't share your problems with us." Josh said, "please, let us know and we'll see if we can figure it out together."

"Yeah, that's what friends are for!" Kayla agreed, of course.

"You're going to pregnant during Convocation!" Julia reminded her.

"Yeah." Josh surprisingly agreed with her on this.

"Our finals are in two months, and I'm still not pregnant. And convocation is a month later. I'll be fine." YN explained. "But I'll be pregnant on your wedding day, Kayla, I'm sorry."

"Hey, no!" Kayla scolded her, "you don't have to apologise to be. You're still going to be my bridesmaid like I asked you to. I don't care even if you're eight months pregnant, okay?"

"Okay!" YN nodded.

......................................................................

Harry on the other hand was getting ready to call it a day at work.

His office was a mess. It reminded him of his dorm rooms. He can keep his house clean but not his office. Checking his phone for time he found he's got an hour left till he has to be at the hospital with YN.

He started gathering his files and documents layed around, separating everything into two piles, of job done and pending pile so he can later give those back to his secretary.

He found a grey knock off branded Adidas jerkin. He couldn't help but chuckle.

It was YN's. It was left in his car on accident when he'd dropped her off back home from the day she had to be rushed to the hospital. Even in pain she was worried about her jacket there.

It was a very chaotic day.

"YN, tell me where you coat is for god's sake!" Harry was subtly panicking watching her roll on her rug in pain. He had checked the coat closet but he didn't find anything there. Even her roommates were not home.

"I don't-" she stopped, "motherfucker!" She was hammering the floor with her fist as she was curled up in a ball. "I can't, I can't, I can't!"

"Hey, YN!" He crouched next to her to give her a quick pep talk but he saw a grey jerkin hung on the bag hanger in her room, he grabbed it and her as well. "I'm taking you to the hospital okay? It's okay. It's okay." The last it's okay was for himself.

"No, don't take that one!" She protested seeing him drape her jerkin on her shoulders.

"YN you need to go to hospital now, you can worry about that later." He shushed her down.

Harry had carefully helped her in his car as he asked his driver to rush to the nearest hospital. Whilst YN wasn't screaming on top of her lungs, she was doing a good job at keeping herself as calm as possible. She had shrugged off the jerkin draped on her shoulders as she was sweating crazy, even with the car AC on blast.

She was mumbling something to herself. Some self assuring words maybe?

But Harry was sure what was happening. Whilst it did broke his heart as they were just mere two weeks away from being able to get the first ultrasound, he wouldn't lie his hopes were not high. And as much as he think he doesn't care, he's still a human and he knows that she doesn't have her full heart into this. He doesn't want to make her feel pressured. Plus he expected thing to go smoothly.

As expected, YN was taken care of. Lost the baby obviously. She seemed devastated when he found her laying there, crying and staring at the ceiling. IV needle suck on her hand as a beeping machine was hooked her pointer finger. She was dressed in a hospital gown there.

She slipped whilst deep cleaning her bedroom causing her to crash into the side table, straight on her stomach and then straight on her butt. That's all YN could remember, she said before she passed out. Apparently she hit her head as well and woke up with shooting pain in her abdomen. It was already eating YN alive. Only if she could have been more careful!

"Jeremy went and got you food." He said keeping the bag of food on the little table.

Lie, it was him who went to get the food whilst he sent Jeremy to run some errands for him. He's got a heart afterall!

"I'm not hungry." Her voice sounded watery.

"You can eat whenever you wish." He shared, "feeling any better now?"

And there was a knock on the door, it was a nurse who'd came to check on her. He got to know he could take her home by midnight or in the morning if they wish to stay overnight. YN insisted on going back home as she couldn't stand the smell of the hospital cleaning solutions and shit.

She was almost half asleep, her head in his shoulder when Harry brought her back to her flat. She insisted that she could go in alone and take care of herself as one of her roommate was home. She had kept a condition in from of him, that her friends can't know about this. He respected that.

When he went back to work the next day, that was when Jeremy went upto him and handed in the jerkin he found in the car as it was off for cleaning and service. And the piece of clothing is lying in his office since then.

But he regrets not ever texting her let alone call her to check in. He felt terrible about it and his therapist had to hear it all that week. And he was stuck in the traffic so it took him entire thirty minutes to get to her place when she called him crying in agony.

She had shut him off since that day. Shouldn't bother him, but it does.

Her constant curiosity kept him entertained honestly. Especially her random texts at three in the morning asking about a random claus in their agreement.

Sighing, Harry grabbed his coat and YN's jerkin before he left his office. He took a cab to the hospital as he'd asked Jeremy to go pick up YN. She was already there and he was five minutes late.

"Is it our turn?" He asked as he rushed towards where Jeremy was keeping YN company as she clearly she looked hungover. She looked up at him surprised which confused him. "What?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, "we're two hours early."

"Oh." Was his reaction as took a seat next to YN. "Did you eat something?"

"I did." She nodded, "air. It was deliciously polluted today!"

"Hey!" He whined, "do you want to go grab something?"

"No." She looked down at her phone in her lap, her Instagram feed open. She put on one of her earphone and sat there scrolling through reels.

"Here, this was in my car the other day." He gave her back the jerkin. Which she took and put it on. He just sighed a slumped in his chair, watch her scroll through cat videos for about five minutes before his patience wore out. "Okay, come on we're going to eat. We'll be back before it's your turn."

"I am not hungry, Harry."

Harry just texted Jeremy to get some sandwiches, because honestly, he was hungry too. His chef is on a vacation and he can barely cook himself instant ramen noodles. He can't ask his housekeeper to help him out even though he's been offered help many times.

"I am really sorry about that night." He finally got her attention.

"Hmm?" She looked at him confusedly.

"That night after I dropped you off to your place." He reminded her, "I am so sorry I didn't even bother to check up on you. I feel very bad about that."

"It's okay." She shrugged, "I fell asleep as soon as I got home anyway. Would have slept through your call."

He just nodded and sat there in silence for a few more minutes. "You don't have to do this all over again if you don't want to, YN, we can just work it out. The agreement I mean."

"Ms. YN YLN?" One of the nurse announced. "You're next."

"Okay, thank you." YN nodded.

Maybe the person before her cancelled or couldn't make it. They still had an hour and half of wait but they got lucky. The appointment went smoothly. They could go through the process of planting another embryo. YN was doing very well physically, apart from her hang over. And they did went through with the process that day.

YN went in alone this time, where as Harry got to be there with her that time.

She was nervous, as expected. But she didn't wanted to ask him, reading by her obvious body language he asked if he could go in with her. To which she hesitantly agreed to.

"It's going to be alright." He assured her, "it hardly takes five minutes, if my research is accurate. You don't have to feel stressed."

"You're making me more stressed!" She whined. The doctor ran her through what was going to happen, step by step before starting everything was prepared for the procedure.

She looked more tense as the moment went by. Harry who was sat next to her on the little chair, slipped his palm onto her, lacing his fingers through hers. Her hand was a bit sweaty and very warm, and how he wished he heard doctor talk about what was happening. His mind went all fuzzy the moment she held his hand back tightly.

"Ready?" Doctor Wilson asked. Harry was back to earth there, he looked at the lady in the scrubs wearing a hair cap and surgical gloves.

"Yes." YN nodded. "Don't look!"

"I wasn't." He could help but chuckle, he turned his back to what was happening. He felt her squeeze onto his hand tighter, her eyes shuttered closed. "It's okay." He whispered to her, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles gently.

"All done!" Dr. Wilson announced. And YN let out the breathe she didn't know she was holding in.

That was that. Maybe she had no idea what would happen and this time around she does. He just feels shut down.

Well, when have he opened upto her? It was fair enough.

But when he saw her again, she was stressed out.

They had managed to make just six embryos, which meant only three tries. YN was feeling too guilty about loosing the baby (or babies). Harry was splurging so much money after this. IVF is very fucking expensive.

Yes, he might be a millionaire but YN still couldn't wrap her mind around how he was ready to spend so much for a baby. Babies are expensive as well. She had so many questions she couldn't ask him.

Why doesn't he want to wait till he's found a partner? Why doesn't he opt for adoption instead? Why does he want a baby when he's got such a busy schedule? How will he be able to give the child his time when he's so busy all the time?

Of course she would worry about a baby. Especially if it was hers too!

Jeremy was going to drop YN off to her place as she had a day off before driving Harry back to work. But he'd gotten her a sandwich which she was in desparate need of. The car ride for the first fifteen minutes was silent. Jeremy doing his job, whilst Harry had a face which screamed he wants to say something but he was holding back. And YN was eating her sandwich.

"Oh my god, Jeremy this sandwich is amazing!" She squealed in excitement, "I'll pay you back I promise when in back home, thank you so much!"

"Don't worry about it, Ms. YLN." The man giggled.

"YN?" Harry called for her.

"Hmm?" She looked at him. As if Jeremy knew, he pressed the button to pull up the privacy divider on which confused YN.

"You don't have to do it again if this time doesn't work as well." He said, "don't want it taking toll on your physical and mental health."

"But I'd feel too guilty, Harry. Thirty thousand pounds is not a small amount. Especially for me, and I honestly don't know if I would be able to pay you back that amount in this life time." YN shared.

It was set clear in her mind. She would somehow pay him back if it doesn't work out. That would mean her paying him back with an annual interest. And that was just the money he'd signed on the cheque which went to her not including the hospital bills minus the procedure fees. She owed him a big time monetarily.

It was either she give him a baby or his money back. She's very stubborn.

"You don't have to YN." He assured her, "consider it as me helping you. It's alright." That rubbed off wrong on her. Maybe he could have worded it another way.

"Helping me as my what?" She asked, pissed, "as my friend? As an acquaintance? Or as a person who's doing some charity work? This is exactly why I never wanted to talk to my friends about this!"

"YN, that's not what I-"

"Stop it Harry, I've been trying to be nothing but nice to you, okay? You're pissing me off now. I have no business in even interacting with you for this." Her eyes pooling up with tears behind her glasses. "How you're going to take care of this child when you're always busy is eating me alive. I don't even know why you want a baby so bad to put my mind at ease." She proceeded to knock on the privacy divider, "Jeremy? Please stop the car."

"I'm sorry, you don't to worry about that, YN. I promise." He rushed.

"Fine." She nodded in agreement, "please don't contact me until the next hospital appointment." She grabbed her bag and left his car. They were still five drive away from her place.

......................................................................

Harry did just that.

The next appointment was in a six weeks. Every weekend, his therapist heard about it all, about how he feels so bad for everything, and how much of an asshole he is.

Well, he can at least try to be friends with her.

At first he thought she was in it for money because she denied him but went back to him. But if she was, she wouldn't go on and on about wanting to return every penny he's given her if this is not successful at all. And knowing her, he's sure her stubborn ass would do anything if she has enough time on her hand.

She made him change up two main claus in their contract. He wanted her to stay at his place, and not work in the last trimester. He'd do anything as long as he can make sure his future child was safe and sound. Especially since none of her friends would know about it. Her family is a different country. And he can't really controll what she does and doesn't want to do.

But lately he's feeling like he's buying a baby like it's some sort of toy. What can he do? He looked for adoption first, for whole two years but he was never in the top 10 preferences for them to even consider him as a good adoptive parent, even though he's got all the financial needs. He's got many god children, but he wants a little one to give all the love he's got in himself. At first he so wanted to adopt a child, but it wasn't in his luck.

YN was right, he's got minimal time out of work. He'd just bought a new bar as an investment. How was he going to take care of a child?

He sees her again today!

Hopefully everything will be alright. He hears some good news, or at least gets to rekindle with her and actually be friends.

She's very sweet.

Yeah, sarcasm is her second language (mainly when he's managed to piss her off or something) but oh boy is she so fucking sweet and adorable!

He saw her stood there by the entrance of his office building with Jeremy and the security guard. She was all chirpy and chatty today, holding onto a Tupperware container.

"Mr. Styles, how you doing today?" Jeremy spoke, exaggerating, he's seen Harry today already.

"I'm good Jeremy, thank you, and what about you?" Harry player along, watching YN's smile drop. "What's that?" He asked pointing at the Tupperware in YN's hands.

"Oh it's -"

Jeremy was interrupted by YN, "its is nothing. Jer, let's go now shall we?"

"Jer? That's new." Harry chuckled.

"Oh I'm afraid sir, you won't get it, it's a best friend thing." Jeremy said, opening the back door for him.

Harry usually slides in first so he did. He expected YN to get in as well but she hopped in the front seat. The entire drive to the hospital, Harry watched Jeremy andy YN talk and laugh, they had plans of catching up over some dinner tonight. Feeling left out and a ting of anger he slumped in his seat and pretended to scroll through his phone. Once at the hospital, YN walked in first.

"Jeremy do I have to remind you are married?" He whispered to his driver/ bodyguard.

"You don't have to sir." Jeremy smiled, "but I know she's old enough to be my daughter."

Harry coughed feeling embarrassed as he sped walked inside, following after YN.

Harry you snooze you loose, he taunted himself. She's already got another best friend!

"Hey," he said quietly as he approached YN sat on one of the benches in the waiting room.

"Thirty minutes of wait." She said.

"I, I know." He stuttered, "I, I wanted to ask, ummm... ask how are you?" And she just shrugged.

"My dad's fine." She shared, "almost fine I should say. His surgery was successful, he's back home and recovering."

"That's great news!" He exclaimed, slowly though, they're at a hospital.

"Mhmm." She nodded, "thanks to you. He, uhhh... he really needed it to make it. And..." He grabbed her bag from the chair next to hers and shuffled through her stuff, "sorry I had to shove my stuff back is after my class. Where is it?" Harry watched her struggle to find what he didn't know. Finally, she pulled out a notebook which had a paper in it handing over to him.

"What's this?" He flipped the paper around. It was a Cheque of Fifteen thousand pounds in his name. "What's this for?"

"Saved up!" She smirked proudly, "my friend's brother works at the hospital my dad was admitted in, he handled the insurance stuff so we only had to pay half of everything. I don't need this so I'm returning it, I need time to return the other half though."

"YN, I told you, you don't have to." He tried place the cheque back in her book.

"Keep it!" She warned him, packed up her stuff quickly. "I'll still help you Harry, and I'm going to trust that you're going to take very good care of this baby."

"You can trust me." He still assured her. His eyes brim up with tears so let his head down so she doesn't see him crying.

"Harry?" He felt her hand on his bicep which made him hitch, "you alright?" Warmth of her hand was gone within a second.

"Mhmm." He nodded, still sniffling on his tears. "I am, I am fine."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay!" She cooed, still sitting at a distance from him.

......................................................................

Harry was a second close to peeing his pants as he sat there patiently whilst the nurse was getting the blood work done, YN was sent to take generic pregnancy test.

"Wha— what happened?" He rushed as he saw YN walk back into the room they were asked to wait in.

"I don't know." She shrugged and watched him slump back into ghe chair. "I think it is going to come out positive." She took a seat on check up bed, next to the ultrasound equipment.

"How do you know?" He asked and she just shrugged again.

Okay, she isn't going to sit there and tell him she's missed her period which is a good thing. He can put two and two together himself when the results are handed over, just hope he was good at Maths in school.

It was few minutes later when doctor arrived with the blood work reports and the best news. It was a different doctor and not Doctor Wilson. And the nurse named Willow, who was in-charge of the blood work.

The new doctor was a handsome fella. Tall, blue eyes, beefy biceps and all that. Everything to make HARRY insecure. Why insecure? He didn't know. But oh boy was Harry feeling this weird (and negative) feeling in the pit of his stomach as YN interacted with him.

"Congratulations, the tests are positive!" Doctor announced as he took a seat on the chair next to the check up bed. "I apologise for not introducing myself, I am Doctor Mike Jones, Dr. Wilson is on a vacation so by the time she returns I'll be helping her patients. Please don't hesitate to ask any questions you have." YN nodded at him with a smile. He proceeded to go into details about the blood work and what was good and what could potentially be risks.

"By the reports we can tell you're about eight weeks in, that means we can get the ultrasound done." Dr. Jones shared as he stood back up, "I'll leave for a moment whilst nurse Willow runs you down with the procedure."

"Yeah, thank you doc." YN nodded.

Least to say, Harry was happy seeing the little grainy pulse on the screen. He was excited to go tell his mum and sister about it all. He was excited to finally start preparing for the baby to come.

Last time, he couldn't celebrate. Though he doubts he could right now. He should wait a little bit longer now. Maybe next eight weeks or so...

He can at least share it with his mum, right!

"Oh my god!" He gasped softly seeing the little heart beat on the screen. His sight blurring up with tears, "they're so tiny!" He looked at YN in excitement grabbing onto her hand.

"Let's listen to the heart beat now." Dr. Jones said.

The little rapid beats of distorted heart beats almost took Harry's breath away. He wanted to scream and sob in excitement. The rest of it was boring yet important stuff. Measuring of the fetus, looking for any potential complications which there seemed none in that moment.

Oh and there was just one baby.

On the way back to YN, the car ride was silent. She was sat in the back seat next to him this time. He noticed her take out the Tupperware container from her bag.

"Congratulations!" She smiled and offered him the sweets.

"Oh, he's lactose intolerant!" Jeremy joked which YN was unaware of that.

"What?" She looked at him, "I'm sorry you can't have this."

"Come on, Jeremy!" Harry groaned, "I am not lactose intolerant YN he just likes to joke around."

"You still want these then?" She suggested.

"I'm good, thank you." He politely declined, "and thank you... for helping me."

"Nuh-uh! You know we celebrate with sweets in India. I got these for Jeremy 'cause I got to know my dad is out of hospital now, healthy and fine. We heard another good news here." She shared, "this is just a little celebration, about everything slowly getting back together."

"Yup!" Jeremy sounded from the driver's seat.

"You knew about this?" Harry was surprised.

"Of course I know sir, my wife is Indian."

"Okay..." He sounded stretching the word, he took one piece of whatever sweets it was and ate it, "what is that?"

"It's made of cottage cheese and flour, it's called Gulab jamun." She explained. "It's my favourite. I made it last night as I craving it, it's pain in ass to make but oh my god it's so good! Right, Jeremy?"

"My wife says the same thing, YN." Jeremy chuckled, "everytime she tries to make it, it turns out awful. According to her, not me."

And these started talking again making Harry left out again, but he zoned out. Harry has never been so confused about his feelings thus far. He's been trying very hard to stay away from her emotionally, but she makes it hard not to when she's telling him exactly what she's feeling. It's annoyingly good.

"I'll take the train Jeremy, don't worry about it." YN caught Harry's attention, they had reached her place.

"Wait, train to where?" He asked.

"To Jeremy's..." YN answered confusedly, "he's invited me for dinner at his."

"Why, why are you taking the train?" He rushed panicking, "I, I mean he can pick you up right? Right, Jeremy?"

"I can perfectly manage to go on my own, Harry." She shrugged, "and he's your employee not mine, it's just rude to ask him to pick me up."

"But, he's been taking you to the hospital whenever I ask him too."

"Yeah, because it's your work he's doing. I am not going to ask him to do anything for me." She shrugged.

"Okay, can you kids not argue about this?" Jeremy spoke up, "I'll pick you up YN no worries."

"No, you don't have to Jeremy," YN was glaring at Harry sat next to her, "I know exactly why he's saying this. I don't know why you still went for me if you don't trust me anymore. Could have started over for all you care. I quit trying to be friends with you, for good now." With that he's had YN barging out of his car again. "You need therapy. You need help!" With that she slammed the car door shut.

"You should go talk to her." Jeremy suggested, "you know she's one of the nicest person I've come across so I have to put in good word for her. I know it's hard for you to trust anyone, but you can trust her. She's a good friend."

Harry nodded and got out of the car, "I'll go talk to her."

"I'm going to take a cab home, you can bring her over for dinner." Jeremy handed him the car keys.

"Okay, thank you." He gave Jeremy a quick hug before he was running into the building.

......................................................................

Tag list:

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #ceorry #ceo!harry #ceo! harry styles #fluff #surrogacy #harry fanfiction #smut #desi harries #imagine

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

hiii! you should totally make a bill smut! where he’s like super submissive & fem reader is rough, just completely overstimulating him until he’s crying, like using vibrators on him :’). perhaps some mommy kink (if ur comfortable ofc!)

ur writing is so good btww💞

hope it’s good since writing dom!fem isn’t usually what i do <3)

Driving Me Crazy | Bill Kaulitz

you entered the room, only wearing your red lingerie and high heels. slowly, you walked over the boy who was laying down on the bed, handcuffed and blindfolded.

you straddled him, making a surprised sound coming out of him. not the only sound he would’ve made that night.

you started grinding on his boxers where a bulge was already formed. he was always ready for you.

a whimper came out of him, making you bit your lip. you loved it. you loved how desperate you made him.

“m-mommy…” bill breathed out, parting his red lips as he let out a moan.

“sh, mommy will take care of you.” you softly said, lowering his boxers. you started moving your hand up and down his length.

“o-oh yes! faster!” he moaned throwing his head back. you stopped suddenly, making him gasp.

“beg for it.” your voice was demanding, sending shivers down his spine.

no one knew how submissive he was for you. everyone thought that because of his extroverted persona compared to your shy one, that he was the one who had control. but boy, if they only knew. it was your little secret, and it only made you and him hornier.

“please please mommy, fuck me! i need you so bad around me.” bill desperately moaned, almost squirming underneath you.

you smirked at the sound of his trembling voice, before moving your panties aside and slowly going down his length.

you threw your head back at the feeling of him inside you. after some seconds you started moving up and down his member, going faster and faster.

your breathing was mixed with the sounds of your moans, as he whimpered and groaned.

you took his blindfold off him, and he looked at you confused since you always liked seeing him that way.

“i want you to look at me as i fuck you.” if your words weren’t enough for him to be sent over the edge, your hand around his neck was what he needed.

you squeezed his throat just as much so he couldn’t talk properly, before spitting in his mouth, making him swallow it.

you felt him cum inside you and you held your moan back. “who told you to cum?” you asked sternly, as his juices fell down your thighs.

“s-sorry. i’m sorry!” bill pleaded watching you get up while shaking your head. he stared as you undid his handcuffs and he stroked his red wrists.

“w-what’s going on?”

“all fours.” two words were enough for him to understand.

he did as you said, as always, waiting for you as he heard noises behind him, still trying to calm down from his high.

you took out your vibrator before going back to the bed. you placed yourself behind him, you wrapped it around your waist before turning it on.

his eyes widened but before he could say anything, you inserted it on him. he arched his back even more, as you went in and out of him.

your hands were on his hips as you pushed, the friction and the vibration causing bill to almost cry out, in pleasure but also almost in pain.

“t-too much! s-stop!” he gripped the bed sheets, but you knew he wasn’t really telling you to stop.

“shut up, you know you like this. you like being fucked like a slut.” those dirty words came out of you freely.

his legs began trembling, eyes watering since the pleasure was too much. tears started streaming down his cheeks and he tried to get away from you but you held him still, he was too weak to fight back.

“can i c-come?! mommy please!” the sight of him so desperate and begging you was becoming too much even for you.

you started touching yourself as you kept him in his spot, feeling near your climax as well.

“let’s come together, baby. okay?”

bill nodded frantically and on your three you both came. you fell on top of his back, out of breath but satisfied.

“fuck.” he let out, closing his eyes.

“yeah…fuck.”

a/n: hope you like this! idk if there are vibrators that you can wrap around your waist but i wanted to put that in lmaoo

#tokio hotel #tokiohotel #writing #fandom #fanfic #masterlist #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x female reader #fem dom reader

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Stripped - modern!ellie x stripper!reader

wk- 8k-ish (it’s worth it)

additional tags: loser!ellie, reader is slightly described (pale, red/light brown hair, literally picture Lana in tropico bc that’s what I used for reference, oral reader! receiving, fingering reader! receiving, gross ass m*en, mutual pinning, implied homophobia (nothing crazy), childhood friends to lovers??, drug! mention, alcohol! mention,college! ellie mentioned, fluff n smut <3

"Ugh- He's is such a fucking creep."

I mouth frustrations under my breath, taking a seat at the vanity in the back room of the club. I pull crinkled wads of money out of the strap of my thong, smoothing the bills as I counted.

"Who is?" A familiar voice asked me with genuine concern. Camilla, also known as Coco by the customers, was a veteran dancer, a motherly type that all the girls that worked here went to for advice.

"Grabby Gary."

She winced at the mention of his name and shook  her head.

"I don't know why they keep letting him in here. He's a fuckin' perv."

I nod in agreement, taking a deep breath before looking in the mirror. My eyes were red, and my body ached from the early hours of the morning. I applied for this job not because I wanted to, but because I figured it would be a good way to make money fast. My mother, being an alcoholic and her deadbeat boyfriend was a violent drunk.

"You got any plans this weekend, baby?"

I felt a boost of energy at her mention, perking my head up with a smile on my face.

"My best friend is coming tomorrow. She left for college a few months ago and I haven't seen her since. We talk everyday, but it's jus' not the same."

I lower my head, pain in my voice as I remember how fucking empty my life felt when she left me behind. I never told my friend this, not wanting to make her feel bad.. I was happy for her. She was smart and passionate, I mean, who was I to get in the way of her education?

"Does she know you dance?"

I suck air behind my teeth, scrunching up my face.

"...no."

I didn't want her to worry about me and I definitely didn't need her shit for it, but it still worried me.

"You work tomorrow, right? Bring her by, and we can feed her free drinks. It will be fine, now get your ass home and get some sleep. You did good today." Coco reassured me, patting the back of my shoulder before going back out to the stage.

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

I stir in my bed, the afternoon sun flooding my room, making it unbelievably warm due to the Texas summer heat. I fumble with the sheets, kicking them off my sticky skin. I skim my hand along the bed searching for my phone, peeking at the screen through tired eyes.

12:32 p.m.

I mentally groan before squinting at the missed text's notifications, rubbing my eyes to focus my blurry vision.

Ellie<3: Hey- I'm leaving now I'll be there around 1 Delivered 9:56 a.m.

"Shit."

I throw my body forward, scrambling to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

I search my drawers, pulling out whatever is clean. I trip over my feet as I tug on a pair of denim shorts when the vibration of my phone alerted me.

Ellie<3: I'm pulling in now

My heart started to race, excited, but also incredibly nervous. I quickly finish dressing my self, half-running half-speed walking to the front door.

"Okay-" I take a shaky breath, composing myself before turning the door handle.

"Took you long enough." Ellie said sarcastically, flashing me a smile. I could have cried right then, not realizing how much I've missed seeing her face that I lunged at her, wrapping my arms around her in an embrace.

"Damn- you missed me that much?" Ellie laughed, patting my back hesitantly.

I rest my head in the crook of her neck, breathing in her woodsy scent. I felt immediate comfort wash over me, a sense of safety and nostalgia.

I quickly pull back, realizing I definitely held the hug longer than we both anticipated.

I clear my throat, adverting her eyes.

"Uh- how was the drive?"

I encourage her inside and shut the door behind her.

"S' Fine. Nothing note-worthy-" she pauses in the hallway, glancing down at the battered couch.

"He's still here?"

She points to the man sleeping on the couch, stained white tank that was pushed up to his chest, exposing a bloated stomach.

I ignore the obvious disapproval in her voice, grabbing her wrist as I pulled her through the house to my room.

"How's your classes? Do you like them?" I ask her as I shut the door, making sure to lock it.

Dale, my mom's boyfriend was a real prick. Ellie and him have had their fair share of issues. One ending with Ellie punching him in the jaw after he called her a slur.

"Uh- yeah, yeah. They're good. Except for this one class- the teacher is a dick, but other than that, it's good."

She slid her backpack off her shoulder, tossing it to the floor before taking a seat on my bed.

I sit next to her, now feeling suddenly a lot more anxious in the quietness of my room.

"How are things here?" She lowers her head to me, concern raising in her voice.

"Oh- uh.. you know." I fake a laugh, looking down to my hands.

Ellie remained silent for a second, probably catching on that things here where in fact, not great.

"What's up with those?" She grabbed my hand, turning it over and observing the obnoxious set of acrylic nails.

I let out a more genuine laugh, her bewilderment written all over her face as she traced the edges of the nails.

"It's fr' my job. It's kinda a big thing there."

Her eyes break from my hands and look to my face.

"Waitressing requires talons?" Her eyebrows go up, child-like confusion on her features like if you tell a kid anything, they'd believe you.

"No! Oh my god- I quit the restaurant after you left."

She paused and leaned back, waiting for an explanation. I bit my lip before taking a deep breath, pausing before opening my mouth.

"I work at a club.. like a night club kinda place."

I held my breath as I examined her face, her eyes darting between mine.

"Doing what?"

Ellie's eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening into a straight line.

"It's not a big deal. I actually have a shift tonight and was hoping you'd come. You can drink for free."

My voice strained, desperate to get her on board for the sake of me needing her to understand my position.

Ellie nostrils flared through rapid breaths, stone facing me before looking away.

"So you're a stripper?" Ellie sighed deeply as she rubbed between her eyebrows.

"... yeah." 

Ellie leans forward, elbows resting on her knees, looking around the room before taking a deep breath.

"A stripper? You're barely 19!"

Her voice grows louder out of anger, clearly not approving of my choices.

"I know, I know... but I need to move out. I can't stand living here, Ellie! After you left shit just got more fucked." 

I flail my hands before tucking them back into my lap. I needed her to understand. I needed her to realize how desperate I was and that I didn't take this job just for the experience.

Ellie remind silent for a minute, taking in my explanation.

"I'm sorry- it's just.. I hate the idea of you dancing around naked."

"It's not like that... I mean I'm not completely naked."

I laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood. Ellie cracked a smile, but it didn't seem sincere.

"Will you come tonight? It would help knowing you were there." I ask her, dipping my head down.

Ellie pauses before answering, mentally analyzing how it would play out.

"Yeah I'll go.. but only to beat guys up if they look at you for too long." She said smugly, nudging her shoulder into mine.

"That's literally what I got hired for."

I roll my eyes, trying to down play the heat rising in my cheeks.

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

"I see you still drive that sad excuse for a car."

My eyes remained glued to the screen, taunting Ellie as we played an out-dated version of call of duty zombies on my PlayStation, killing time before I have to get ready.

"It's not sad! It's a Mustang." Her voice pitched, defending her prized possession.

"Yeah... a 2005 Mustang that almost killed you and drained your bank account." I roll my eyes, spamming buttons on the controller.

Amongst our bickering, we lose our concentration causing a horde of zombies to down us both.

The colors on the tv screen loses saturation and text on the screen read: game over you survived 12 rounds

"Aw man. This is totally your fault."

I open my mouth to argue Ellies claim when the door handle rattles, and aggressive banging followed.

"Why the hell is your door lock?! Who's in there with you?" A loud male voice creeped through the  hinges.

I stood up and walk towards the door, turning back to give Ellie a look of "please be cool" before slowly opening the door.

"The hell is all that noise fr?" Dale grumbled, looking rougher than usual. His eyes look behind me into my room, eyes going wide as he saw Ellie, who gave him a wave and a shit eating smile which definitely did not help the situation.

"What the fuck is she doin' here?"

I take a deep breath, putting myself in front of him to crate a barrier in case shit goes south.

"She's jus' staying for the weekend, okay? That's it."

His eyes bulged out of his head, veins becoming more prominent against his now red face.

"Bull fuckin' shit she is! This is MY house."

Dale yells, pouting a finger in no particular direction.

"The only thing you own is a spot on the sex offender registry." Ellie rebuttals. I'd admit it's a good burn, but holy fuck, this was the opposite of being chill.

"The fuck did she jus' say t' me?!"

Dale pushes himself past the door, shoving me out of the way as he v-lined for Ellie.

I grab Dale by the arm, using my body weight to hold him from getting closer to Ellie, who didn't seem affected, if anything, she looked amused.

"Dale- Dale please calm down... she didn't mean it, okay? Just please stop." I spoke calmly to him like I've done so many times in the past when he got this way.

Dale silenced his yelling, looking to me as he breathed heavily, blood shot eyes and a slight twitch in his eyebrow.

I put on a brave face, having done this repeatedly over the last 3 years that he and my mom have been dating.

"She will be gone tomorrow, okay? I'm sorry I should've told you... I can talk to Chris at the club and see what he has, okay?" I spoke sweetly to him even though it made me feel physically sick.

He didn't respond, eyes darting between me and Ellie, then back to be before he stomped out of the room.

"The hell did you say that for?" I huffed, rubbing my eye, and walked over to Ellie, plopping down next to her on the bed.

"Because I hate him." Ellie responded sternly, looking at me like I was dumb for asking such a question.

"No shit, but the least you can do is be in your best behavior, for my sake. I'm the one who has to live with him."

My words came out rushed, annoyed that she wasn't understanding how uncomfortable living in this house truly was.

The way my mom was black out drunk for days on end, how Dale would sneak around outside my room in an attempt to catch me undressing, not to mention the smashing bottles on the wall or the never ending psychological abuse Dale carried out.

"You're right. M' sorry. That was a dick move. I promise I'll be good."

Ellie held her hands up, one over her chest and the other in the air, signaling a sarcastic attempt to keep her promise.

I roll my eyes and bit my inner cheek to hide a smile. I missed her goofy self, the smug way she would tease to cheer me up.

"Okay, fine...you're forgiven'."

I flash a smile, looking at my phone to cheek the time.

"Shit- I gotta start gettin' ready. Do you have to get ready?" I stand, waking to my closest.

"Uh- I don't know, do I?" Ellie asked, sounding concerned that she had no idea how to dress for a strip club.

I look back at her, observing her outfit more closely. A checkered blue and white flannel with a simple white t-shirt underneath, dark washed denim jeans that hung tight to her legs paired with her signature high top converse that she couldn't live without. She looked good.. like really good. No matter what she wore, I always found myself admiring her, even when we were young. She was effortlessly cool to the point it was annoying to me.

"I-I think you're good. I mean, you're a customer. You can wear whatever, I guess."

I turn back around, shuffling through the designated spot in my closet that I lovingly refer to as "skin rash central". Sequins and feathers and other skimpy clothes that look like discarded scrapes from a Victoria secret factory.

"Ugh- don't call me that."

Ellie winces at the choice of words. Customer. She didn't want to be a customer at a strip club where her childhood best friend worked. It felt wrong like she was crossing an invisible line. Only ever dreaming about the possibility if that line were to break, disappear completely, and the term friends would be replaced with something else.

"Don't worry, you don't have to throw money at me... although I wouldn't be opposed to it-"

Ellie shifts uncomfortable in her seat, clearing her throat to hide the fact her cheeks began to burn hot from my comment.

"Im gonna' get ready... uh- make yourself comfortable." I said, motioning my arms in a way that was meant to be funny, but I realized how stupid I must have looked.

Ellie laughs anyway, nodding and shooing me out of the room.

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

"Okay... lookin' good."

I turn around, observing myself in the spectacle mirror. A red lingerie set that I've worn a few times before, bows and ribbon that dangled across bare skin. Makeup is simple. Classic. Flawless skin with a wing liner, and big eyelashes that complimented the shape of my eyes. A few carefully placed fake beauty marks along my jaw and below my eye. I decided to keep my hair down, letting the length fall to the lower part of my back, loose, big curls that shaped my face and shoulders.

I take a few deep breaths, leaning my hands against the sink.

"You got this. It's just like very other night." I tell myself quietly in the mirror.

I throw on a jacket and sweatpants, not wanting to reveal myself to Ellie quite yet in case she loses her shit.

"Hey- sorry. I know I took forever. You ready?" I return to the room, glancing to my phone to check the time.

9:47 pm

When she didn't respond right away, I looked up to see why she wasn't responding. To my surprise she was already looking at me, more specifically my face.

"Ellie?" I snap my fingers at her, breaking her trance.

Ellie flinches, blinking her eyes a few times.

"Huh? Oh- yeah. I'm ready." Ellie clears her throat, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans.

Her behavior confused me, she was nervous when I came back into the room. I figured it was because she was not use to seeing me all glammed up, considering she knew me when I was a little girl, playing in the mud, catching bugs and reptiles in the creek behind the house. 

"Can we take your car? Dale is gon' kill me if I take his truck again." I asked her, focusing on putting an extra pair of shoes in my duffel bag.

"Yeah, that's cool... uh where is the club located?"

I rushed to my vanity, spraying ungodly amounts of sweet smelling perfume along my body and clothes. Panic was starting to kick in. Anxious that this was defiantly not like every other shift. My best friend was going to be there, to watch me dance half-naked for other people's pleasure.

"Further into the city. Don't worry I'll tell you directions. Traffic might be kinda bad though so we need to leave." I finish putting on deodorant, slugging my bad over my shoulder, dragging Ellie along by her hand out of the house and down the driveway to her car.

"Do you want to play music?" Ellie asked, holding the aux cord.

I happily obliged, shuffling through playlists I made specifically for her. I find one that felt just right, clicking it and waiting for her recognize the beat.

"Oh shit! So it's that kinda night, huh?"

Ellie cranked the volume up, tapping the steering wheel with her hand and started to sing along.

I watch her with a warmness building in my heart. Seeing how happy she was listening to a song we have both heard hundreds of times.

It felt like we were teenagers again, driving around in this same car, having no destination in mind as we blasted borderline obnoxious tunes. Ellie was always older, not just physically but mentally.

I realized my feelings for her when I was 15, and she was 17 going on 18. I could never tell her it would just put her in an awkward situation and possibly ruin our friendship, and I definitely didn't want that.

"Turn left at this light and the club will be on the right side. You can't miss it, it has a bright ass pink neon sign out front."

I bit my lip, feeling insecure about the location of this place, not realizing before how fucking sketchy this part of town was.

Ellie turns the car into a parking spot, killing the engine and took a deep breath.

"You forgot to mention it was in east side."

"...sorry. It's not that bad, I promise."

I look down to my phone, checking the time.

"Oh good! We're kinda early. You can get a drink before I go on." I say a little too excitedly, my thought process being she can get shit faced while I worked, in case I make an ass of myself.

I exit the car, tossing my bag over my shoulder and start heading towards the doors. I stopped, realizing Ellie wasn't right behind me, I turn around.

"What's wrong?" I ask her with a puzzled look.

Ellie's face lit up a pink hue from the sign, her eyes fixated on the building.

"Wha- nothing... nothing. I'm comin'." Ellie words faltered, her head hanging low as she made her way to where I was.

I push open the blurred glass door and examine the crowd. It was fairly busy, considering it wasn't even midnight yet, which is when people started to flood in.

"Hey doll- you're early." Coco greeted me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I greeted her with a smile, genuinely happy to see her face.

"Yeah, I thought traffic would be bad-" a awkward silence formed between the three of us, Ellie looking at me and then down to the floor.

Coco sensed Ellie's lack of experience in a strip club, looking at her and holding a well manicured hand out.

"You must be the best friend. I'm Camilla. It's good to finally meet you. She talks about you all the time."

Ellie shook her hand, focusing heavy on her face to avoid looking at what little clothing she was wearing.

"Oh does she?" She let out a nervous laugh, breaking the hand shake and wedging herself behind me. I was humored by how Ellie was acting. Nervous and in full gay panic, being surrounded by a bunch of girls that were half-clothed.

"I'll leave you to it. Have a good night-" Coco kisses my cheek and then points to Ellie, who straightened her stance immediately like she was meeting the president.

"And you, take care of her tonight. She's good at what she does, but she's a magnet for trouble." Coco turns and disappears into the club, leaving the two of us standing awkwardly by the entrance.

I shake my head, covering my face with my hands out of embarrassment.

"Magnet for trouble?" Ellie repeats her words, a smug tone hinted in her voice as she teased me.

"Don't- just... don't. Now, c'mon let's go get a drink." I grab her wrist, pulling her though the club towards the bar.

"2 shots of tequila please."

I leaned over the bar, kicking my feet like a kid in a candy shop.

Fez, the bartender gave me a stern look, rolling his eyes.

"You can't drink yet, doll. We've been over this." He shook his finger at me, trying to sound serious, but he was a gentle giant, sweet and very easily manipulated.

"C'monnnn please. It's a special occasion."

I blink wide eyed at him, pouting my bottom lip.

Fez shook his head, taking a deep breath and pretended to think hard about it.

"Fine... but I swear this is the last time. No more." He turned, slapping two shot glasses down on the bar and filled them to the brim, letting some spill over onto the counter.

I scootch the glasses closer, holding one up for Ellie, which she takes hesitantly. Her one eyebrow raise, and a smirk on her face as she brings the shot to her lips, throwing her head back as she downs the liquor. I copy her motions, swallowing the liquid, feeling it burn my throat as it made it way down.

"Awh- ohmygod... that's foul." I choke out, scrunching my face and pushing the shit glass away.

Ellie was unfazed by the taste, not flinching  in the slightest.

"You're such a baby." She giggles, shaking me by my shoulder.

"Sorry I'm not a frat boy like you." I snark back, feeling pretty pleased with my remark.

Ellie rolls her eyes playfully to make me feel like I won that conversation.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, letting the screen light up.

"Shit- uh I need to get ready for my set. You can stay here and keep drinking- or if you get hungry, I can ask the guys in the back to make you something?" I ramble, covering all my bases to make Ellie as comfortable as possible.

"I'm fine! Just go do your thing." Ellie let's out a laugh, shooing me away. I give her one last worried look before turning away and walking through the club, maneuvering around people and squeezing between chairs and tables.

I get rid of my jacket and sweatpants, switching out my vans for platform heels. Red to match my outfit, straps that accentuate the top of my foot and up my ankle. I button the straps, flexing my foot to make sure it wasn't pinching the thin skin.

I sat at the vanity, the bright bulbs around the mirror gave me a headache. My nerves were spiraling.

I planned my dances tonight with Ellie in mind as a way to welcome her, to still embarrass her even if the two of us were the only ones who knew. "White mustang" by Lana del Rey was my first song, a little inside joke for both of us, that leaked into "summer bummer" purely because that song made me want to dance, not think too hard. Just dance.

"Fuck. Okay, you got this. Jus' go out there and dance. You've done it dozens of times. No biggie."  I voice words of encouragement to myself, wiping  smudged lipstick from the corner of my mouth.

I coax myself with deep breaths, going through the motions of trying to calm the uneasy feeling in my stomach.

"Doll, you're on."

I look at my co-worker, meeting her eyes through the reflection of the mirror. One last deep breath and I walk through the door, leaving the safety of the break/ hair and makeup room.

I walked slowly, carefully as possible to the stairs of the stage, scared I'd break an ankle in my uneasy footsteps. I kept my head low, scanning the crowd to look for Ellie. Lights strobing shades of pink and red, a haze building from the cigars that were being smoked.

My heels clunked the wood stage floor as I take position on the pole, holding it with one hand as I casually swung around it, waiting for my song to start. Yelling and whistling from the handful of men that gathered closest to the stage. I smile at them, waving playfully while still peeking looks in hopes I'd find my friend.

The first cords of the song started to play. I switch to my professional personality, becoming more serious and seductive. I parade myself around the pole, letting my legs fall wide as I leaned against. Dollar bills started to float onto the stage, hooting and hollering as I caressed my body. I engage with the men, bending over in front of them to show them something worth their time.

From the outside, I looked like I was doing my job and doing it well, but internally I was panicking. I couldn't find the one person I wanted to see, but at the same time, if she was watching and I couldn't see her, it was a new nightmare. Curious to know what her face looked like as she saw her once, innocent, childhood best friend.

Ellie waited as patiently as she could, finding a dark corner of the club where less people were. She sipped on a whiskey she ordered, leaned up against a wall.

A sudden burst of cheers and hollering caused Ellie to jerk her head in the direction where it was coming from. A women was walking into the stage, playfully hanging off the pole. The lights made it hard to make out at first, but upon seeing the light brown, almost copper tinted hair, Ellie's eyes widened, almost choking on her drink.

This was a side to her best friend she has never seen before, skin that Ellie's eyes have never been graced by before, at least not to this extent.

Sure, when they were younger they'd change in front of one another, but Ellie always turned away, scared that her friend would notice the changing hues of her cheeks.

Arms stretched outward towards her like a painting depicting a religious experience, and to be honest it felt like one to Ellie. These men begged for the touch of her hand, the words on her lips, but Ellie was the only one who knows what it was like.

The way she smiles so brightly, laughs so fully like she wanted the whole world to hear. How clumsy she truly was even though she danced so gracefully on the stage.

I prance in my heels all over the stage, trying not to make it obvious was trying to avoid the shining lights in my face to look for Ellie. I squint towards the back of the bar. Her familiar frame came into focus, leaning against a wall like she worked here as a bodyguard.

I wave at her, excited to finally have found her. Ellie does a double take before pointing to herself . I nod, not caring that this wasn't part of the routine as I usher her closer to the stage.

Ellie carefully comes closer, stopping a couple of feet behind the handful of men that surrounded the stage. I felt a burst of energy seeing her, knowing that she was still here.

I lower myself to my hands and knees, crawling forward to the men that clasped bills in their fingers. I lay in front of them, arching my back against the scuffed floor, letting money drape over my face.

Ellie held her breath as she watched, never looking away, hell not even blinking, scared she'd miss even a second of the show.

I get back into my knees, hovering above the paying customers as they place the bills in the straps of my thong and bra, letting it snap back only to be repeated. I diverted my attention away from my patrons to meet Ellie, her eyes heavily glued to me. I raise a finger, pointing it at her and curling it, signaling that I wanted her to come closer.

To my surprise she takes a few more steps forward, shimming between the men who gave her dirty glares in return, but she didn't care. Out of everyone here tonight, Ellie was the one who had all of your attention.

Ellie positions herself front and center of the stage. I crawl closer, leaving only a few inches between our faces.

🎶 the day I saw your white mustang-🎶

Ellie's realization of the song made her crack a smile. Even under the colored lights, I could tell she was blushing, cheeks red making her freckles more prominent. I felt my own cheeks cramp, a wide grin on my lips that I definitely couldn't hide.

I watch Ellie's hand disappear into her back pocket, pulling out crisp bills, and slowly, her hand moves to my chest, using her other hand to open the top of my bra as she inserts it gently, smoothing her finger over my cleavage before she retracts her touch.

"You suck-" I mouth to her, rolling my eyes playfully. My body jittery and my heart thumped loudly against my chest. Without much thought, I leaned down from the stage, planting a kiss to her cheek, which left a very prominent lipstick stain to her pale complexion.

My ears perk up to the changing of the song, feeling much more upbeat after our interaction, I jump up and blow Ellie a kiss, which she pretends to grab before she took a few steps back.

I carry on through my set, shaking my ass more energetically to match the vibe of the music. Dollar bills of various worths littered the stage.

Ellie watched from further away, her eyes loom in my direction as she babied her drink, not wanting to risk forgetting this night.

Ellie didn't try to hide how she bit down on her lip, eyes studying the movements of my hips or how I extended my neck to the side, leaving the exposed skin on display for her imagining how she wanted to mark it.

"So... whaddya think?" I ask out of breath from rushing off of the stage as soon as the song ended.

Ellie opens her mouth and closes it again as her face contorted, trying to figure out what to say that was both respectful, and didn't come off pervy.

"I see why that lady said you attract trouble."

I give her a confused look, tilting my head to the side.

"Huh?"

Ellie purses her lips before making a tsk tsk sound with her mouth.

"You were- unreal... it kinda scares me how incredible you were up there." Ellie looks away, rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand that held her drink.

I feel my face heat up, a giddy sensation building inside me.

"I mean I wouldn't go that far, but thank you Els. It means a lot comin' from you." I said sweetly, interlocking my fingers behind me as I rocked back in forth on my toes. I felt like I was in school all over again... like when you have a crush on someone that's way out of your league, but they talk to you anyways.

"Hey doll, Gerald wants a private dance." Camellia interrupts us, sounding slightly apologetic.

"Ugh- fine." I groan, rolling my eyes.

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere!" I yell back to ellie as I walked towards the champagne room.

Ellie didn't love the idea of you giving someone a lap dance. She wanted to hold you back, prevent you from walking away, but she didn't because after all, this was your job.... The idea of some old man grabbing you and fantasizing about how he would touch you made Ellie sick.

Ellie waited for your return as patiently as she could. Uneasiness was sinking in, causing her to sip from her glass at a faster pace. She felt a new sensation kicking in as she waited. Maybe it was a sense that she needed to protect you, keep you safe, but no, that wasn't it. It was jealousy. A possessive urge to keep you at arms length. It was a feeling that Ellie desperately tried detaching herself from for a number of years.

"Sorry! That took longer than it should've." I say to Ellie, stumbling back to her slightly out of breath.

"It's fine. When does your shift end?" Ellie's tone shifted. She sounded annoyed, frustrated even.

"Uh... soon." I answer weakly, uncertain why Ellie was acting different towards me.

Ellie didn't seem thrilled with my answer, looking down at her now empty glass and avoiding my face.

"If you want, I can see if I can leave early? It's slowin' down now. I don't think it should be a problem."

Ellie lifted her head, looking at me with wide eyes. Her face lit up at my suggestion, but quickly dwindled.

"You don't have to-"

"Hush. I want to. Plus, I want to spend as much time with as possible... jus' the two of us." I cut her off mid sentence. It was the truth. I didn't want to waste our only time together, not knowing when I'd see her again.

Ellie smiled, her eyes burn into mine causing me to want to lean into her, but she clears her throat when she realized how our gaze lingered.

"Let me go ask." I tell Ellie, resting a hand on her bicep before I turn to leave her again.

"Please! I'm literally beggin' you. Just this once- I won't ask again." I pleaded, holding my hands to my chest, interlocking my fingers in a prayer.

Warren. Aka boss man, looked me up and down, and took a deep breath before rubbing the meaty part between his eyebrows.

"Look- doll. You haven't been working here long enough to be making such requests."

"-and it won't happen again. I swear." I bat my eyelashes a few times in hopes he'd show me some mercy.

There was a few seconds of silence, Warren looked at me and then down to the papers strewn about his desk.

"Fine, but I expect good things from you from here on out. No more slacking."

"Thank you! I promise I will." I rushed over, planting a kiss on his cheek before running out of them room.

I strut over to Ellie, not giving her any time to react as I take her hand in mine and march us out of the building towards her car.

"I guess that's a yes?" Ellie asked, a smug tone hinted on her lips.

"Let's get the fuck out of here." I smile at her as I open the car door.

Ellie does the same, picking a song before she reverses out of the parking spot.

The neon glow of the club's sign was fading behind us as we drove away, windows rolled down to let the cooler breeze of the night swirl around us. This felt like everything I could ever need, ever want. I was happy with just this. The only person who ever looked out for me, who ever cared about me is by my side. I felt safe and loved by her, not really caring if she loved me the same way I loved her.

"I'm sorry I left you." Ellie breaks the silence, turning down the volume of the music so she wouldn't have to yell.

"What? No, don't be sorry. You grew up and so did I. There's nothin' to be sorry about." My voice grew weak as I spoke. It hurt to be reminded that she wasn't a permanent person in my life anymore.

Ellie didn't know what to say to that. She felt the hurt in your voice as you spoke and of how you shifted in your seat. Ellie glanced at you from time to time in her peripheral, taking note how you were still in your 'work' clothes. She quickly reframed herself from starring too hard from how little was being covered.

You turned away from Ellie in the car as you looked out the window, feeling a sense of dread that the night was coming to a close and Ellie would have to leave in the morning.

I felt the engine turn off, an ear piercing silence followed as we both made no effort to get out of the car.

"You ready?" Ellie asked, her voice quiet and gentle.

I nodded, opening the car door and walking up the driveway with Ellie close behind.

Reaching the door, I took out my keys, holding them up to the lock as I took a deep breath, praying that the house was quiet and everyone was asleep or simply just gone.

I creep open the door, listening for any movement and when it felt safe I motioned the coast was clear to Ellie. I shut the door behind us, taking off my heels to prevent the clunking sound on the tile floor.

"Thank-fucking-god." I sigh, falling back into bed, looking up at the plastered ceiling of my room.

"I can't wait to leave and never see this stupid ceiling again."

Ellie lowers herself onto the mattress beside me and looks up to where my eyes fixated before looking down at me.

"Me too." Ellie said absentmindedly, eyes lingering over the skin on your lower stomach and chest.

"Can you bring me with you? I can sleep in your closet or something... people have pets that they hide in there dorms, right?"

I laugh to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn't.

"Trust me. I wish I could." Ellie bit her lip. She couldn't hide how seeing you so close like this and so exposed made her feel. How your breasts pooled over your bra, how the skin between your legs looked so soft and malleable.

I sat up and looked to Ellie when I noticed how her demeanor had changed. Her eyes, usually a bright green where now much darker, more intimidating. My eyes drift to her lips, slightly swollen and glistened from her spit.

Fuck.

I divert my eyes from her face, feeling slightly uncomfortable by how much my body was reacting to her. My thighs squeezed together, my heart pounding and I couldn't stop thinking how much much I wanted to kiss her.

That's when I look at her arms.

Her fucking arms.

The sleeves of the flannel she wore were rolled up to below her elbows, exposing the tattoo on her forearm. The veins in her hand were prominent, trailing upward to her long fingers.

"Fuck-" My inner dialogue slipped, coming out as a whisper.

"I mean-" I try to cover my ass, praying my horny fucking brain to come up with anything, but it was too late.

Ellie leaned forward, putting her arms on either side of me, forcing me to lay back on the bed.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" She asked, tilting her head to the side as a smirk grew on her lips. Her voice sounded different. Low and sensual, unlike I've ever heard from her before.

My breath hitched just from her voice alone, the heat building in my core as she hovered over me.

"Wha- what do you mean?" I stutter, confused and at the same time feeling the effects of the atmosphere change in the room.

Ellie leaned closer, dipping her head so she was inches from my face.

"Still wearing this." Ellie raised her hand, bring her fingers to the strap of my bra and tugging on it.

"Maybe I am." I said barely above a whisper, grabbing her wrist and guided her hand to my stomach before moving it upwards to my chest, encouraging her to touch me.

Ellie's face changed from lust to genuine confusion, eyebrows furrowed and she studied my face.

"This isn't funny."

I shake my head weakly, squeezing her hand that was cupped around my breast.

"I'm not joking, Els. I want you to. Always have."

I bring her hand up and kiss the back of it, making deep eye contact as I leave wet, and sloppy kisses to her skin.

Ellie held her breath as she watched you underneath her, so beautiful and so eager for her touch. Ellie couldn't hold back anymore, all these years of repressing her feelings for you were coming to the surface.

I look up at Ellie, making slow circular motions with my hips as I imagined how Ellie's fingers would feel inside and that was her breaking point. Ellie pulled her hand away, forcing mine above my head as she leaned down and closed the empty space between us.

I moan into her mouth, feeling her lips on mine finally after all these years of only ever dreaming about this moment.

Ellie's lips move sloppily against mine, her tongue grazing over my teeth and exploring the spongy walls inside my mouth.

Ellie breaks away and looks at me, panting slightly from the passionate kiss.

"Are you sure?"

Her eyes were wide, and her brows turned upward. A puppy dog-like expression on Ellie's face caused me to smile, seeing how hard she was holding back just to make sure I was okay.

I simply nodded, reaching up and holding her face to bring her back down to reconnect our lips.

Her hands roamed by body, squeezing my breasts tenderly, but firmly. I did the same to the little amount of skin I could. Lacing my fingers around her forearm, sinking my nails into the flesh.

"Can you take this off? I wanna touch you." I pull away from her lips out of breath, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

Ellie wasted no time, sitting up on her knees and pulling the flannel off her arms, tossing it to the floor.

I gawk at the sight of her as she pulls her shirt over her head, discarding it to the side in one swift motion.

Ellie's stomach was flat and toned, defined ridges that outline her subtle abs that led downwards into a 'v' above the waistband of her jeans.

I bit my lip as I watched, taking in the sight of her.

I bring my hand up and grip the loop in her jeans, pulling her down to taste her again.

I let my fingers slip into her waistband, touching the uncharted territory. Ellie pulls away before I could feel her further, a hungry look in her eyes as her impatience grew.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was low and raspy like pop rocks, igniting your mouth with its rigid edges and leaving a sweet coating on your tongue.

"I wanna feel you." I whine, reaching up to palm her breasts over her sports bra. Ellie let out a muffled whine from the contact, shutting her eyes as she felt me drag a nail over her harden peak.

"You're drivin' me crazy. You know that?-" Ellie says, letting out a low chuckle before weighing out her options.

"Only if I can feel you." Ellie says, negotiating with me as her hand hovered down my stomach, giving me goosebumps as her fingers trickled down the skin.

I nod enthusiastically, gripping the sheets beside my head tighter as I felt her hand palm my pussy, rolling the heel of her hand against my clit.

"Fuu- you're this wet already? I bet I can slip right in.." Her hand continued to grind against the thin fabric.

My back arches under her, swirling my hips against her hand.

"Mm- El... please." I moan, looking up at her with a pained expression. 

"Please, what? Use your words, baby." Ellie said smugly, toying with me as she removed her hand, causing me to cry out from the lack of friction.

"T-touch me. I wan' you in-inside." I stutter over my words, my body wringing beneath her.

"Atta girl."

Ellie lowered herself once again, kissing me deeply, sucking my bottom lip before biting it between her teeth.

I feel Ellie's hand roam my body, tugging and gripping at various parts before she sipped her hand underneath my underwear. Her fingers skimmed along my folds, my slick coating her fingers before she circled around my clit.

My nails dig into the back of her shoulders, breaking the skin but not enough to make her bleed as she picked up the pace on my clit.

My lower stomach clenched and tensed, the heat pilling between my legs and I craved more.

"Ellie- empty.. I need you to fill-"

I was cut off by Ellie's fingers plunging into me over and over again as her fingers curled against my cervix with each thrust. Ellie paused, but only partially as she yanked down my underwear before fucking into me once more.

"FUuu mm-" I cry out, but it was muffled by Ellie's free hand covering my mouth, her fingers digging into my cheeks.

"Shh baby... you have to be quiet." Ellie growled into my ear before kissing the corner of my eye. Tears began to spill down my face from the force of her hand slamming against my cunt. 

I nod as she removed her hand from my mouth, letting it fall to my throat as she gently squeezed it.

I bit the back of my hand, sinking my teeth into the skin as I held back my moans.

"Good girl... such a good girl-" Ellie cooed, placing the occasional sweet and delicate kisses on my face, which didn't line up with what she was doing to my aching core.

Wet sloshes filled the room along with my muted whines from behind Ellie's lips.

I felt a bubbling sensation rising inside me, my mind becoming fuzzy and blank. I felt like I had no control over my body, my limbs becoming stiff  as my eyes roll to the back of my head.

"Els- I'm gonna-" I barely mutter, breaking away from her kiss as my head falls back, pressing deep into the mattress beneath me.

"Cum fr' me, baby girl." Ellie encouraged, her fingers slipping deeper into my cunt with each blow.

I squeeze her bicep, sinking my nails into the freckled skin. Occasional moans that I try hold back escape my lips, no thanks to Ellie. My jaw hung open as I lift my head to watch her fingers disappear then reappear inside me. I couldn't take it anymore, my head rolls back, my eyes shoot to the back of my brain as my stomach tenses, my hips rising with her fingers that continue to fuck into me as she rode out my climax.

I lay on the bed as my cunt continued to throb, taking deep and uneven breaths to try to calm the tingling sensation I felt all throughout my body.

The springs of the mattress creak as Ellie lays down next to me.

"You okay?" Ellie asked, sounding scared like a little kid that got caught stealing candy.

I roll my head over to look at her, her eyes wide and bright that how I always remembered them.

"Yes. I'm more than okay."

I turn my body to face hers, brining my fingers up to tuck a stand of hair behind her ear.

We lay there in silence for what feels like an eternity and I would I've been okay with that. Our hands danced over the skin of our faces, memorizing every curve and line.

"I don't want you to go." I said weakly, almost crying just thinking about her departure.

Ellie cupped my hand that rested on her cheek with her own, rubbing small circles with her thumb to the back of it.

"I know-"

I felt my eyes begin to well and I quickly try to blink them away, but it just made it worse. Tears fall down my cheek and my nose as I softly sobbed.

"Hey- shh.. shhh. It's okay." Ellie soothed me, pulling me into her. I bury my face into her chest as she held me. Her hand soothed over my head, patting it softly as she raked through my hair with her fingers.

I sniffle, pulling away to look at her again.

"I'll be okay. It's just- hard without you here."

Ellie's heart was breaking as she watched you crumble beside her. Your usual carefree and happy self was just a mask that you wore, a mask to make everything seem good and normal when that was the opposite of your life.

Ellie didn't want to leave you just as much as you didn't want her to leave. She couldn't stand the thought of not being able to take care of you, see you everyday and to have you within reach at all times.

Ellie took a shaky breath, unsure if what she was about to say was out of bounds.

"I've been looking at apartments off campus-"

My eyes lit up at Ellie words, confused at first, but equally as excited to know where this was going.

"And if... you want to come live with me in Houston-"

I pounce on top of Ellie, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence.

"Yes! Of fuckin' course I want to live with you!"

My voice became loud and high pitched from my excitement, planting kisses over her forehead and cheeks before I bring my lips to hers, kissing her harder and longer than I intended.

"Okay, okay.. easy there." Ellie laughed, pushing me away to catch her breath.

"I promise I'll get a job and I'll cook and clean-"

Ellie brought her finger to my lips, silencing my rambles.

"Don't worry about that shit, okay? I'm gonna take care of you." Her hand cupped my face, soothing her thumb over my temple.

I fall into her chest, holding her tight, and she did the same. Tears fell from my eyes, not out of sadness from her leaving, but from the happiness that every bad thing that I've ever gone through was going to be that of the past, and now I have something good to look forward to.

"Shit!" I throw my head up, leaving her chest.

Ellie tilted her head, eyebrows raised in confusion from my sudden movements.

"I didn't get to touch you."

Ellie laughed from the genuine disappointment in my voice, pulling me back down to kiss me.

"Don't worry. There will be plenty of time for that."

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams tlou #ellie Williams tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x afab reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us 2 #modern!ellie williams #Ellie x stripper!reader #Ellie Williams x stripper! reader #college!ellie williams #ellieslittlewh0re #Shelby🪷

[traumabuddies]

hi i'm very busy but i'm taking a minute to ask for a prompt hmmm maybe "wait right here. don't move" for buddie. please and thank you. i love you <3

anything for you my love<3 spoilers for 6x18.

It takes a few hours for Buck to finally be able—allowed—to take Eddie home.

The drive isn't tense per se, but Eddie is still sour over being injured, which means he's not talking, intent on glaring at the buildings they pass by from the passenger seat.

Three fractured ribs, two bruised ones, and a hell of a bruise on his lower back. In the grand scheme of things and compared to the others, it's not too bad, but that doesn't mean he got away unscathed.

No matter what Eddie says. Well, Buck knows that Eddie knows he's hurt and in pain, but nothing short of a bullet wound will make him admit that. He's come so far when it comes to sharing his emotions, but it still takes a lot for him to ask for help driving or putting a shirt on.

He's still a proud man who doesn't want to be a burden. Buck gets it, he really does, but that doesn't mean that he likes it.

When he pulls up to Eddie's house, it's to a muttered complaint beside him. Buck ignores him, although he quickly rounds the Jeep to open Eddie's door.

"I can open my damn door, Buck," Eddie grumbles.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Can't a guy take his time?"

Buck tries his hardest not to roll his eyes. "No, because I want to get inside and take a shower to really get this dust off of me."

"Then go, I'll join you."

"In the shower?"

Eddie glares at him. "Haha, funny. Just go, man."

"Not a chance. Come on."

With less resistance than expected, he helps Eddie out of the car, and then into the house. Every pained sound that manages to escape Eddie's gritted teeth grates Buck's ears, makes him wish he could wrap Eddie in a blanket or bubble wrap so he doesn't get hurt again.

Well, if he had any say in it, he'd do that to all of his team, but right now, Eddie is the only one who is his problem. Eddie is the only one who's leaning on him as they make it to the living room, the only one Buck has to see simultaneously wince in pain and sigh in relief as he's lowered onto the couch.

"Here you go," Buck says, rubbing Eddie's shoulder, glad when Eddie lets him.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, no worries."

Reaching into his pockets, Buck hands Eddie his phone, as well as the remote on the coffee table. Eddie takes both without a word, face stuck like the grumpy cat Buck likes to compare him with mostly because it get Eddie more annoyed.

He keeps it to himself today, but he feels his chest expand with fondness all the same, especially when Eddie wastes no time texting Chris.

"Okay," Buck says, clapping his hands together. "I'm gonna go shower for real, do you need anything?"

Eddie shrugs. "Just gonna need a blanket and some water, but I'll go get—"

"Nuh-uh, no way," Buck is quick to say, hands once again pushing down Eddie's shoulder when the idiot tries to get up. "I'll do it, wait right here."

"Buck," Eddie sighs, but the fight in him is disappearing already.

"Don't move. I got this."

He does, too, running to grab pillows and blankets from the hallway closet—the same ones he uses when he's sleeping on the couch—and then pulling two water bottles out of the fridge, as well as some snacks just in case.

Eddie watches him through all of it, something soft and slightly disbelieving that makes Buck wish he still had blood covering his face.

"Okay, should be everything," he says, making sure Eddie is comfortably laid back against the pillow and that eveyrthing else is within reach.

"Buck," Eddie says. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't sound annoyed for the first time today. "Unless your shower takes a whole day, I'm gonna be fine."

"What if I need to take a day long shower?"

"Then you'll have some bills to pay."

"You know, you're so generous with your guests, Eddie, it's a wonder you don't have more of those."

"Oh my god, go away," Eddie says, and it's not really what it sounds like.

Buck takes a step back with a mock salute before heading towards the bathroom, only to stop where the living room meets the hallway. He claps the doorframe, turns to Eddie.

"I'll be right back."

Through the pain, Eddie's smile is genuine. "I know. You always are."

send me prompts!

#911 spoilers #911 #buddie #911 fic #monse #thanks for this one baby i love you<3 #prompts #lex.writing

[karin-gespenst]

CtM CS 2023 first rewatch and further thoughts

early foreshadowing for Mr. Sharma: he says "I can find my own way." he's clearly referring to his navigator skills.

Angela's teacher promised her "house points" for making the scrap book. Can somebody tell me if "house points" is a common thing for teachers to use? I've only encountered the term in fiction books.

Fred calling Angela treacle was very sweet. Now that I think about it, Fred probably sees more of the Turner children than of his own grandchildren, or Violet's. He always organising something for the kids in the neighbourhood, from running the cubs to joining the bus ride to see the Christmas lights and sending his paper boys to the clinic for working children, and now he's the lollipop man. Good on him!

Tim passing his driving test reminded me of the giant bills I've been paying in the last few months for my kid going to driving school. And then I noticed that Shelagh still does not drive. Chummy learned and Sister Winifred and I'm sure by now Delia has taught Patsy as well. On the other hand, Patrick is always using the car, Shelagh would have to get her own vehicle if she wants to drive.

Meanwhile, Miss Higgins is aquiring new premises for the clinic, and shows her best no-nonsense attitude while the badminton match is going on behind her. It's hilarious.

Sister Monica Joan is not impressed by Apollo

her complaint about Patrick is exquisite: "Can you not remove this man? He seems to be pleading the case for eternal life."

Trixie in her hostess gown! Opinions? I like the gown better than her new hairdo.

Matthew cooking a festive dinner for them - good on him!

Geoffrey! So much to unpack there, he'll get his own post. What's his profession again? something with the expat community in Malta?

Brenda and Toni together in the maternity home, being honest but kind and sharing their fears, that is just beautiful. Having family around is lovely, but the kind of support and understanding that young mothers can give each other is really one of a kind.

Mr. Sharma in the hospital deserved more real attention instead of just well-meaning words from the staff, so they could maybe have lessened his fear and avoided his running off out through the snow without understanding why he's feeling so unwell. Without Cyril's patient kindness and the respectful trust he established this could have gone much worse.

Filming in the ambulance must have been exhausting. Birth scenes are always strenuous, but with three or four adults and several babies in the cramped space, I don't fancy being the cameraperson. The only other mother in labour who had Patrick sitting behind her as support was Shelagh, so Brenda is expertly looked after at this point.

What kind of care did the specialist give to Brenda during her pregnancy? apart from that one palpation he's just parading around and celebrating what he sees as his own achievments, when the development of fertility drugs is a joint effort of many people and the mothers are bearing most of the actual load.

I've noticed Nancy is more comfortable now reassuring mothers who share some of her experiences. Having a safe space to live together with Colette has given her calm and happiness.

I've had a two-hour-drive today in the dark and I did not like it. Phyllis driving home in pain through the snow makes me want to reach through the screen and pick up her car like a toy and place it safely in front on Nonnatus house. Glad to see her snapping many, many photos at the Christmas party.

Tim at the church organ made me smile. The entire scene is magical, brimming with detail, and everyone playing their parts proudly. Apart from maybe baby Mark, who was not quite aware of the backstory.

#call the midwife #call the midwife spoilers

[call-me-eds]

call-me-eds Masterlist

Fic Recs

STRANGER THINGS

Blurbs (includes recs)

Eddie Munson

The Other Woman

You know she means a lot to Eddie, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.

Jasper Avenue (Part 1)

Eddie broke up with you before you went off to school and is still in Hawkins. You’ve been trying to move on from each other, but you’re alone, drunk, with a cell phone, and have his number memorized.

‘tis the damn season (Jasper Avenue Part 2) Winter break is here and you’re back in Hawkins for a month. It didn’t take long for you to run into the person you’ve been trying to forget for the last five months, your ex-boyfriend Eddie.

New Dress

Eddie hears through the grapevine that you want to go on more dates, and he goes into quick action.

Prom Night

You never thought it would be your fault that you couldn’t go to prom with your boyfriend, but Eddie did his part. It was you that messed up.

Girls Freak Me Out

After graduating, Eddie isn’t as in the loop with the Hawkins population, especially when someone new comes to town.

Chivalry Kills *18+

Eddie is a perfect gentleman to everyone, and it makes you feel invisible to him. 

Lecture *18+

Wayne walks in on something..unbecoming. He has a special relationship with you, but now all of that is out the window.

Bathtime

Fluff, fluff, fluff with our boy Eddie.

Scare

You help Nancy out in an emergency, it brings back a painful memory, Dustin doesn’t bother to read instructions.

Done Deal

You thought you and Eddie were just enjoying each other’s company, but he takes a step that puts your relationship in more of a gray area.

The Boy is Mine (call-me-eds version)

A romantic night in at the trailer

Steve Harrington

A Family Affair *minor smut

You and Steve finally get a moment alone without your brother.

Second Date

After a disastrous first date, you and Steve give it another go.

Answering Machine

You hesitate to open up to Steve, but when it all gets too much, he can’t bear to see you suffer anymore.

Crush

Almost everyone can tell that Max has a crush on Steve. When he cancels a driving lesson to take you on a date, you think that you can take out 2 birds with one stone.

Friendsgiving *18+

You and Steve try to get through a dinner after crossing a line.

Baby *18+

Snapshots of your relationship with Steve through his most used nickname.

Steddie

Fight

Eddie and Wayne get into a fight, and he goes to Steve for comfort.

IT

Not Today (Reddie)

All Eddie wants is to be an emotional backbone for Richie, who is used to running and hiding from his emotions. He’s trying to learn and be emotionally available to Eddie, but it’s hard to change all at once.

Patience (Stenbrough)

Stan needs help in school. He hates not being the smartest one in the room, he hates having to ask for help, and he hates having to ask for help from his boyfriend.  

Know-It-All (Stozier)

Stan knew all there was to know about almost everything. He’s spent almost his entire life trying to pin down just one thing about Richie Tozier, but no one could do that.

Weak (Stenbrough: Fuckboy!Bill)

Fuckboy! Bill has his claws deep in Stan.

Weak Part Two (Stenbrough: Fuckboy!Bill) Stan gets some guts and Bill isn’t sure how to handle it.

Tomorrow (Reddie)

Eddie is leaving for college and Richie can’t quite handle it.

Jewelry (Stozier)

Richie falls in love with piercings and rings while Stan falls in love with him.

Poison (Stanlon)

Getting high has never been so stressful, but then again, everything that Stan did had an edge to it.

Eye On The Ball (Bichie)

Bill tries to cope with his role in his friend group and Richie can’t stand it.

Drive (Reddie)

All Richie has wanted is to have his license and his freedom, and there’s only one thing that might stand in his way.

Yes (Stenbrough)

Stan has had enough of Bill’s heroics and can’t help but put his foot down.

#masterlist #stranger things #it #it 2017 #it 2019 #it stephen king #reddie #stenbrough #stozier #stanlon #bichie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #making this so links work on mobile!!!!!!

[skylarmoon71]

Lex Luthor (Smallville) - Short Story : Chapter 4

It’s rare for Lex to be this quiet. 

When he’d ask you to have breakfast with him, you were happy to join. You still had an hour before you had to stop by the Kent farm to help Clark. Weekends were mostly you lazing around. 

So, while you sat at the cafe you were ready for some typical Luthor banter. But he’d been so quiet. He looked completely checked out and you couldn’t help but worry.

“Lex.” 

His focus finally changed and when his head lifted, you wanted nothing more than to take that expression of pain off his face. 

He shook his head, working up a laugh. 

“Sorry, no one ever tells you how stressful this becomes. Maintaining a company isn’t as easy as they make it sound.” 

You knew for a fact that his company was the last thing he could have been worrying about. You just gave a blank stare. Lex shifted. 

“So, are you going to tell me, or are we both going to sit here until someone blinks and breaks down.”

Lex looked ready to brush it off, but you reached over taking his hand. Any assurance he was about to give disappeared. He deflated, because at that moment he knew there was no use hiding it. You could see right through him. 

“Today is..the anniversary of my mother’s death.” He finally confessed. 

Now it made sense. 

“It’s been years, yet every time this day comes, I feel it. That emptiness.” 

It’s crazy how Lex has always been seen as some monster. You have to admit that until recently your view of him wasn’t that great. You’re fortunate that you were able to see past your own small mindedness. Because your need to extend a hand has always been there. Seeing Lex, now more than ever you feel like you need to help. You give his hand one last squeeze, and then you pull away standing. 

“Come with me.” 

He’s obviously confused. 

“Where are we going?” Though he’s questioning you, he’s already left a bill on the table as he stands. You can’t help but wear a small smile. 

“We’re going to distract you in a healthy and responsible way.” You explain as you grab your bag, straightening your jacket. 

“I thought you were helping Clark today.” That part is a bit of a mumble, and you wave it off. 

“Clark is a big boy, he can figure it out.” 

You don’t miss the grin Lex wears at those words. 

You have the perfect place in mind. While Smallville is known for a very tragic past of the meteor shower. There is still so much beauty. You’re also glad that he actually let you drive his car. 

“This is one of the fastest cars in the world and you’re driving below the speed limit.” 

“Didn’t you almost die speeding in this thing?” 

“We might get arrested at the pace you’re going.” 

“Quit being such a backseat driver.” 

You grinned, and when you stepped on the accelerator, you could see Lex’s face change. 

“You wanna see fast, I can do fast.” 

His eyes grew wide, the revving of the engine picking up. 

It took about ten minutes to get to your destination. When you exited the car, Lex stepped out behind you, shaking his head. 

“You’re never speeding again.” 

You just smile, handing him the keys which he took swiftly. 

He looked a bit traumatized, but you didn’t care. 

You’re positive he’s learned his lesson. 

“Is there a reason you dragged me all the way out to a hiking destination? I don’t think I’m wearing the right clothing.” 

He gestured to dress shoes and suit. You just rolled your eyes, taking his hand. He intended to object as you both followed the sign that displayed a mountain viewpoint. For a while you both were just walking down a path of trees and rocks. Lex had stopped fighting. 

He felt like he should have said something. 

You were still holding his hand and he couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. Because your hand felt so warm, comforting. It might have been unconscious on your part, but there was a very short list of people who had gotten this close to him without repercussions. 

There was a smile on your face and it could have just been the atmosphere, but the way the sun lit up your face felt almost majestic. It wasn’t a long trip. He was a bit impressed when you came to a clearing. There was a bench situated with a trash can not too far away. A few meters away were some other benches. When he turned his head to the right, the view of the mountain range was breathtaking. All you could make out was trees and the glimpse of water, along with the clouds that seemed to be aligned so perfectly in the sky. He dropped in the seat, clearly in awe. 

"Wow.."

You enjoyed seeing him so astonished at something that has always been so familiar to you. Taking a seat next to him, you dusted your lap. 

“Beautiful right?” 

“It’s incredible..” 

He was completely taken. You felt accomplished. 

“I used to come here when I first arrived in Smallville. I was still getting into my powers. I’d had them since I was in high school, but I never tried to control or even understand them. I found this place by accident because I just needed to take my mind off all the stresses of my life. Up here, everything just feels lighter. Less daunting.” 

He had to admit, it did feel that way.

“I can’t hope to understand what it’s like to lose a parent so young, but I want you to know that you can lean on me. I’m here if you ever want to talk. I might not always say the right things, but I’ll always listen to you Lex.” 

At that moment, it felt like you’d said exactly the right thing. He couldn’t help but smile at the irony. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

You nod. 

“Of course. Anything for my favorite millionaire. “ 

“I’m the only one you know.” 

“According to you.” 

He quirks a brow and you smirk. 

“What? I know people. “

Lex mirrored your smile, shaking his head. 

“Well, as much as I appreciate you doing this, you should probably get back to Clark. If you’re gone too long he might come looking. He must already think that I’ve kidnapped you and shipped you off to Japan.”

“If we’re going to Japan you don’t have to kidnap me. I’ll go willingly.” 

Lex laughs and you feel a little more at ease.

#lexluthor #smallville #empath #friendship #change #clark kent #trust #humor #cute #family #understanding #lexxreader

[beneathstarryskies]

'I'm looking for comfort

That I can take

From someone else

But after all

I know there is no one

That can save me from myself

You were the only one'

Cetait toi you were the one by Billy Joel

Angsty smutty with Dante plz

Congrats on 1k followers ur the best!

1k event ☽ event requests are still closed!

Word Count: 796

Warnings: angst, ummm i missed the smutty part of this request pls forgive me, fem!reader

Dante is sitting in the office when the power flicks off. He groans softly but doesn’t make any move to remedy the situation. For once he actually had the money to pay the bill this month. He spent it instead on bottles of whiskey and pizza. One day passed to the next without him paying much mind to it. Most nights he fell asleep at the desk and he dreamt of being in the bed upstairs with you. The first time he actually bothered to look at the calendar on the wall, he’d been startled to discover two weeks had passed since the last time he saw you. He felt stupid for driving you away over his own fears.

“You need to move on,” he’d said. “I’m damaged goods, babe.” 

You had never looked at him like damaged goods. Your eyes had never shown anything but pure love. At times it even bordered on adoration like he hung the stars in the sky. It made him feel guilty when you looked at him like that. He didn’t deserve that. Everyone who has ever tried to get close to him has gotten hurt. Every day that you showed up to his office with that bright smile you were taking a gamble. Dante decided he was going to end the game before you got hurt. 

“Dante, don’t do this,” you whined. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t let you keep doing this. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

It had taken a bit more coaxing to talk you into finally leaving, and fuck it shatter his heart to see those tears in your eyes. He wanted to take you in his arms and give you what you wanted. He just couldn’t bring himself to be so selfish. It was for your own good, and he prayed to a higher power he didn’t even believe in that you would see that. As the days passed, he saw it less and less. He wanted to call you so fucking bad, but to do that he’d have to pay the power bill. And to pay the power bill he’d have to sober up enough to walk to the office, and that meant allowing himself to feel the pain he’d worked so hard to numb himself to. He sat in his chair and opened another bottle of whiskey. He notes with a grimace that it’s the last one. 

“What is this?” Trish’s voice echoes through the office. It’s hot and stuffy inside. Dante grunts in response but doesn’t remove the magazine draped over his face. Trish attempts to count the empty bottles scattered about, but she loses count at some point and gives up. 

“Where is she?” Trish asks, Dante grunts in response again. This is all she needs to put it together. 

“Did you get dumped?” 

“No.” 

“You dumped her?” 

Dante sighs but again doesn’t answer. Trish shakes her head and realizes sometimes he really is a fucking idiot. 

The next couple of weeks passes in the same manner. Lady, Trish, and sometimes even Nero come around to try and bully him into doing something. Anything besides moping around would be better than this. Nero even scrounges up the cash to pay the power bill and attempts to get Dante into the shower. When Dante doesn’t budge, he gives him a little shit about smelling like garbage hoping for a quip in return. Dante grunts and drapes the magazine over his face again. 

That’s why when the door opens, Dante doesn’t even bother opening his eyes. He assumes it’s one of them coming around to make sure he hasn’t died yet. Then, his nose picks up a scent he never thought he’d smell again. Your perfume tickles his sense and makes his heart race. Shame fills his gut at the state he’s in and he bolts upright to see you inspecting the wrecked office. 

“So, it is as bad as Trish said,” you say softly. 

“Swe-” he clears his throat, “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to check on you,” you say softly. “You smell like garbage.” 

His cheeks burn brightly and he does a sniff test to realize he does in fact smell like garbage. He sighs and rubs his eyes. He’s been sleeping a lot lately, but whether or not he ever rested is debatable. 

“How about you go take a shower, and then we’ll see about getting you fed something besides stale pizza?” 

Why do you care? You should be pissed at him. You should hate him with everything you have. He broke you heart. Instead, you smile softly and take his hand. 

“Come on,” you whisper. “I’ll come with you.” 

Dante accepts this selfish yearning in his chest, and he lets you lead him upstairs.

#dante devil may cry #dmc dante #dante son of sparda #dante #dante x reader #dante dmc x reader #dante devil may cry x reader

[sagesolsticewrites]

happier (the unhappy ending)

Bill and Scotty’s breakup has rattled the dynamic of the Blue Moon Boys, and it’s made all the worse with the introduction of you, Scotty’s new girlfriend. This story can go one of two ways… take your pick! 

the happy ending      the unhappy ending (you are here!)

a/n: I wanted to write something loosely based on ‘happier’ by olivia rodrigo, and my dear @austin-butlers-gf gave me the idea to do a Bill/Scotty fic! I had an absolute blast writing this, even if it did make me cry at parts lol. Hugest of shoutouts to my loves from The HuddleTM (@sassy-ahsoka-tano, @mpmarypoppins, @dontbesussis, @austin-butlers-gf) for their support on this one! I love y'all <3

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: a couple swear words, allusions to homophobia, angst, I think that’s it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

Masterlist | add yourself to my taglist!

The air in the studio is thick with tension. It has been for about a month. A long, painful month. And Bill knows that it’ll likely be a while before things go back to normal.

Whatever normal is now anyway, he thinks, shooting a bitter glance over to his boyfriend ex-boyfriend Scotty as Sam calls for an end to the day’s recording session.

“Scotty, when do we get to meet this girl of yours?” Elvis teases as they pack up.

There’s a moment of awkward silence. Bill can feel Scotty’s eyes on him as he keeps his attention firmly on packing up his bass, and he can sense Elvis’s teasing mood fading slightly as he glances nervously between them.

“Well,” Scotty begins hesitantly, turning his attention quickly back to Elvis, “She’s been askin’ to come to a recording session, so I might bring her along to the next one if that’s alright with y’all.”

Elvis brightens, and begins chattering excitedly about how he was planning to bring Dixie along to their next session and their girls could spend some time together. Bill tunes most of it out, ears still ringing from the revelation that Scotty’s officially moved on.

He absentmindedly says goodbye to Sam and Marion and his bandmates — purposefully avoiding Scotty’s eye — lost in thought as he drives back home. His mind drifts back to a month ago, shortly after the disastrous Russwood Park performance.

•••

“You alright, sweetheart?” Bill asks, sitting down gently on the couch next to his boyfriend. “What did you wanna talk about?” 

Scotty had been… different, after the fiasco that had been Russwood Park. Quieter, more… distant, almost, and he had phoned Bill earlier that night insisting that he needed to come over, that he needed to talk to him about something.

Scotty looks away, almost flinching at the pet name. It sends a pang through Bill’s heart, Scotty’s reaction being so unlike his usual soft smile and blush.

“I’ve been thinking,” Scotty begins quietly, keeping his eyes trained firmly on the carpet. His voice falters, but he whips his hand out of reach as Bill tries to grasp it. Bill’s concern grows, seeing how Scotty continues to refuse any comfort from him.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says again, his voice slightly firmer but still quiet, “about how everyone’s been reacting to Elvis. The… the politicians and policemen and all them, I mean.”

Bill can only nod for him to continue, wondering where Scotty’s going with this.

“And I just… seein’ what happened at Russwood Park, seein’ how everyone got so out of hand just because of him dancin’ different, it made me realize…”

He pauses with a nervous swallow, and Bill’s heart sinks as he prays he’s wrong about where this is going.

Scotty turns to face Bill for the first time since he started to speak, and Bill’s heart shatters at the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“We’re never gonna be safe here,” Scotty whispers, his voice breaking. “We’re always gonna be looking over our shoulders, always wondering if anyone’s watching us when we’re together and I don’t—” His voice cuts off with a sob and tears finally spill over onto his cheeks as he continues, “I don’t want that for us.”

Bill opens his mouth to protest — he can’t believe Scotty’s saying this, they said they’d stay together through anything, no matter what the world threw at them — but Scotty cuts him off. 

“I don’t want that for you. You deserve to find a nice girl, have a family, not… not living in fear with me. You deserve better, you deserve more.”

He stands up, every inch of him exuding a painful finality. Tears well up in Bill’s eyes and every part of him goes numb. He can’t even find the strength to protest, to tell Scotty that he doesn’t want better, he doesn’t want more — doesn’t Scotty understand that he’s already so much more than Bill deserves, that he is Bill’s whole world? — as it hits him that this is it, this is the end. 

Scotty approaches him, cupping his face and gently wiping away his tears with his thumb as he presses one final kiss to Bill’s forehead. A final whispered “I love you,” lips brushing tenderly against his skin, is the last thing Bill hears before Scotty is gone and Bill is left alone with tear-stained cheeks and a shattered heart.

•••

Bill jolts back to reality as he pulls into his driveway, tears rolling down his cheeks.

As he enters his dark and empty house, he can’t help but wonder: How did Scotty manage to move on so quickly when Bill was still trying to piece his heart back together?

•••

Despite how much he tried to mentally steel himself, nothing could have truly prepared Bill for the sight of Scotty with his arm comfortably slung around your shoulders, as if you’d been with him forever.

All eyes turn to him as he enters the studio lugging his bass. A nervous smile spreads across Scotty’s face, a stark contrast to the genuine grin spreading across yours. You step over and, to his surprise, throw your arms around him, pulling him into a stiff hug.

“You must be Bill! Scotty’s told me so much about you!” You say happily.

“Yeah,” he replies, releasing one arm from his bass to gingerly wrap it around you in return, “It’s, uh, nice to meet you.” He meets Scotty’s eyes over your head, and says with a slightly bitter chuckle, “I wish I could say Scotty’s told me all about you, but I’m afraid not.”

He pretends not to see the hurt in Scotty’s eyes at his words as you release him and turn to tease Scotty.

“What, I’m not a good enough conversation topic for your friends?”

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Scotty chuckles, once again wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “We’ve been busy, is all, and it just… never really came up.” Scotty’s eyes flick up to meet Bill’s for a split second before returning to you. 

“Well since Scotty’s neglected to, I guess I’ll have to make my own introduction,” you announce teasingly. “I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you all,” you say with a bright, genuine smile.

A chorus of “nice to meet you”s rise from the assembled crowd of Elvis, Dixie, DJ, Sam, Marion, and Bill, and the small talk continues for several minutes before Sam corrals everyone to “actually get some work done,” escorting Dixie and Y/N to the control room.

“She seems nice,” Elvis grins, “Well done, Scotty.”

A tender smile grows on Scotty’s face as he accepts the praise of his girl, and Bill quickly looks away before he’s overwhelmed by the memories of when Scotty used to smile at him like that.

The worst part is, he thinks as they begin the session, you really did seem nice. All sparkling eyes and sincere, warm smiles. Hell, you had gone in for a hug before a formal introduction simply on the basis that he was Scotty’s close friend! He wants to find something to dislike about you, some reason to justify the intense ill will he feels towards you, but there’s nothing. From what he could see as the session went on, you were genuinely interested in Scotty’s profession, and you were immeasurably kind to Dixie and the rest of the band. As much as he hates to admit it to himself, you're a good match for Scotty.

Not as good as you, a voice hisses in the back of his head as the session wraps, and he shakes his head as if he could shoo it away like a fly. That didn’t matter. What mattered was that Scotty was happy, just…

Bill allows himself a brief second of selfishness to finish the thought — maybe not quite as happy as he could have been with me — before being jolted out of his thoughts as Scotty tentatively approaches him.

A quick glance around tells him they’re the only two left in the recording room, everyone else busy in the other room chatting happily with Y/N.

“Hi,” Bill says stiffly.

“Hi.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence where they each wait for the other to speak before Scotty continues.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t want this to be an awkward thing, but I didn’t know how to introduce her to y’all, and—”

Bill cuts him off. “Does she know about…?” He gestures between the two of them.

Scotty nods, saying softly, “She does. I told it would be best if she didn’t mention it, but she… she understands.” He gives Bill a meaningful look, and he understands exactly what Scotty is saying.

There’s another split second of silence before Bill speaks up again.

“Does she make you happy?” 

He isn’t sure what answer he wants to hear.

Once again, Scotty can’t seem to stop the fond smile from growing on his face as he answers simply, “She does.”

Bill nods. He forces down the venomous part of him, the urge to spit Not as happy as we could’ve been! Never as happy as when it was just the two of us! and instead looks the love of his life in the eyes and says, “Then I’m happy for you.”

The joy that fills Scotty’s face at his words is almost worth the lie. Almost worth the pain he feels as his heart shatters again, in a way he knows deep down can never be fixed.

But he hides the pain as he follows Scotty to the rest of the group. Hides the anguish as he sees you tucked neatly under his arm, head resting on his shoulder as if that's where you’re meant to be; puzzle pieces slotting together perfectly. Hides the grimace and forces a smile in its place as he watches Scotty press his lips to yours and knows that he’s well and truly lost the love of his life.

Want a happier ending? Check out the alternate ending here!

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @austin-butlers-gf @butlersluvbot @killerqueenfan @kittenlittle24 @beauvibaby @kingelviscreole @justjacesstuff @sweetheartlizzie07 @coldonexx @londonalozzy @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @djconde58 @mirandastuckinthe80s @luke-my-skywalker @tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae @whotfatemywaffles @gyomei-tiddies @friedwangsss @shynovelist @sassy-ahsoka-tano @she-is-juniper @hallecarey1 @adoreyouusugar @iheartcbe @nora-nexus-34 @finelineskies

#elvis (2022) #elvis 2022 #elvis biopic #elvis baz luhrmann #scotty moore #bill black #the blue moon boys #scotty moore x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis imagine #adam dunn #xavier samuel

[creepywrites]

Lyra

Warnings: physical and sexual abuse

She was brought back as a zombie, she was brought back to life by the same people who made the Liquid Hate, they brought Lyra back to life when the substance was still in testing phase, because all of the test subjects were dying, and they wanted to know what would happen if a dead person was injected.

Her body was experimented on and Lyra was brought back to life.

When she was injected, because her organs don't, it didn't go as planned and only slightly increased her abilities.

Being the older sister she had a lot of expectations put on her, she was basically Toby's second mum and had to do a lot of the chores, bills and had to get a job a lot sooner.

She worked at a local petrol station.

They were running away, which is why they were in the car to begin with, Lyra wasn't slowing down in the rain, she swerved and was t-boned by another car.

Lyra loves punk music and fashion, it brought her comfort during all the abuse and makes her nostalgic  of those good times.

Her favourite bands are Nirvana and Lemon Demon.

Though she's not fluent, she knows a lot of German.

She was planning to run away with Toby, she would occasionally put money aside from her pay checks, she managed to save up 200 dollars before dying.

Lyra would hide the money, but had to keep finding new spots because Frank kept stealing some.

She puts on a fierce and aggressive facade out in public with strangers, but is pretty quiet and gentle, and can be pretty protective and clingy towards people she cares about, especially Toby, kids, and her friends.

Lyra protected Toby a lot, whether it was from bullies or Frank, she was always there for him even if he couldn't feel the pain.

She was the one to convince Connie to let Toby have a phone and social media, but she was also the one to take social media away when kids were cyber bullying him.

She was with Toby a lot because Connie didn't trust him enough, but Lyra knew he liked being independent, so she was nearby, but let him do his thing.

Lyra used to be buff, but she stopped working out after getting insecure about her muscles from Frank and coworkers.

After becoming a decayed zombie, she completely lost any muscle she once had.

As soon as she turned 16, she had gotten her soon license as soon as possible and would drive around a lot, this was one of her only escapes from life and she loved driving in general.

Her room was always nice and tidy, and she'd always wake up at 5 am on the dot, this is something she continued even through death.

Along side her room, Lyra kept a lot things spotless to try and appease Frank.

She does not kill, she's more like a medic who helps nearby Creepypastas, she has a mini hotspot that changes locations now and again that a lot of creeps know about.

Being a zombie injected with Liquid Hate, she has increased strength, stamina and endurance, though it doesn't do much for her.

Once she came back to life, she went straight back to her house, and when she saw the place changed and someone else living there, she was devastated and went into hiding.

Lyra eventually found Toby, after looking him up online and eventually finding him in the same caravan park she was camping at, and at first she was enraged after finding out he burnt the house and Connie, but after finding out he doesn't remember anything, she became conflicted but eventually came to the conclusion she couldn't be mad at someone who doesn't remember.

Lyra was kind of annoyed and sad that Toby couldn't remember her after everything she's done for him.

She helped him remove the remaining evidence, they became acquaintances again out of convenience.

She was conflicted when he died, but made a grave for him anyway.

She made friends with Clockwork and became even closer after his death.

She's encountered Nurse Ann and became acquaintances.

lyra would practically run home from school everyday, as fast as a 12 year old girl with a backpack could manage, just because she spent all 7 hours in school worrying about toby at home.

Lyra cared about Connie a lot, and never blamed her for being with Frank.

She was sexually assaulted by Frank at ages 16 to 19, Lyra told Connie at 17 but she didn't believe Lyra.

She started wearing long, baggy clothing and tried blending in with the background.

Lyra hates being touched, she always flinches.

Lyra was always popular during school, she knew a lot of people but didn't want to be friends with them and just wanted to keep to herself.

Lyra looked a lot like Frank, and she hated it. She used to dye her hair brown to try and look less like Frank.

Lyra would come home really late a lot, she wasn't worried about Frank because he was always blackout drunk by the time she was home.

Her grades were never that good, she'd just barely get C's and B's.

Lyra had gotten into cigarettes, she refused to smoke to much or get into beer and gambling because of Frank.

Lyra had a matching necklace with Connie with their initials engraved.

lyras childhood home was put on sale shortly after it was reconstructed from the fire, and connie moved in with her sister. lyras bedroom door was the only one that was shut and left unscathed after the fire.

When Toby was kicked out, Lyra stormed out of the house and joined him.

She had a small tattoo of Connie's initials, it's on the back of her shoulder blade, she hid it so Frank couldn't see it.

She was studying to be a nurse, she was always a caring person and wanted to help more people.

Lyra is extremely tough. She doesn't like showing her vulnerable side because she fears being taken advantage of, and she hates crying in front of other people.

#creepypasta #headcanon #Lyra #clockwork #nurse ann #toby creepypasta

[fanfic-corner]

do you have any destiel recs where cas being gay/only into men is a part of the story. It doesn’t have to be centered around that but still significant

hi anon!! I do have some gay Cas fics for you, but not too many, unfortunately! If anyone else has any recs they can share to help us out and make the list a bit longer, that would be fantastic!

Gay Cas Fics

Hell is a Place on Earth by pollutedstar (1.6k)

Mary knows logically that demons and angels are the polar opposites of each other, but she still finds herself startled that lights don’t flicker every time Castiel enters a room. She looks up, her eyes blurry from straining to read her husband’s writing in the dim light of a lamp. The angel stands silently, tilting his head, and she feels guilty for telling Dean angels watched over him. The pressure of those eyes are not for a child to bear.

Walk Through Fire For You by purple_charlie (2.3k)

Boyfriend.

The word still feels foreign in Dean’s mouth, still brings back echoes of John Winchester’s thinly-veiled (if even that) homophobia. "Man up, don’t be a sissy, I didn’t raise a fairy". It’s a swollen blister in the back of Dean’s mind, throbbing with pain whenever a stranger’s eyes linger too long on Cas’ hand in his, whenever a waitress double-takes at how close they sit in diner booths.

But here, dirty dancing with Cas in a warehouse full of other queer folks, Dean wants to shout from the rooftops- I’m Dean Winchester, I drive the baddest car in town, I lift heavy things for a living, and this is my boyfriend.

Cuffed to an Angel by mattzerella_sticks (72k)

Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he?

Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays.

Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

Four Letter Word for Intercourse by bendingsignpost (194k)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

I hope you enjoy them, anon, and I'm sorry I only have these four for you!! If anyone else has any gay Cas fics that they'd like to share, please send me them and I'll add them to the list :)

#destiel #supernatural #spn #lina lore #fic recs #castiel #gay castiel #ao3 #ask #anon

[anarchy-n-glitter]

ℌ𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔦𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯

Alice Gray is back for the time being... she has no idea what's in store for her when she catches the silver eye of a certain killer.

CHAPTER 2

She chose to drive around town a bit before going home. Part of her was just buying herself time just in case Eleanor or her mother wanted to call when she got home, but the other part of her wanted to take a good look around. It was fall, and she always loved looking at the trees that time of year. It served as a wonderful distraction from the lingering worry that sat uncomfortably in the back of her mind - the worry that should have dissipated the moment she left that parking lot. 

She was tired still, and she suspected her worry was just emotional exhaustion.

Her apartment was dark and cluttered at the moment. She often kept the blinds closed for both privacy reasons and because she liked it better when it was dark, though with the changing of the seasons and the weather cooling off, she knew she’d start opening her windows again to let in the fresh air. The boring, off-white walls of her apartment were covered in framed pictures of bats; both educational posters and pictures she’d taken on expeditions. On her kitchen table were several months worth of mail collected by her sister at her request, and a few bills that were left over for her to pay when she got home. 

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but once they did she felt at home. The only thing she wanted to do was get comfortable and watch TV. Next to her kitchen table was her answering machine, and at the moment the blinking red light caught her eye. She knew exactly what this was, and with a groan she shuffled over to it, pressing a few buttons to get the old thing to work.

It crackled as it let out a high pitched tone, as usual. Alice let her hair down, shaking the locks loose as she slipped her scrunchie onto her wrist while she waited for the messages to come pouring in. 

“Alice, you didn’t tell me you were coming home! Come over for dinner tonight, me and your father would love to see you again! Call us back.” A message from her mother that brought a small smile onto her face. She didn’t think she’d take her up on that offer just yet, but she’d definitely have to call her back. She pressed a button and the machine moved onto the next message.

“Alice! It’s Veronica! You should come out tonight, me and Charlie are going out for drinks and I think it’d be nice for you to come out, live a little, you know? I mean, we know you just got back but… anyway, I know you probably won’t. We should hang out some other time though, whenever you want. Call me back?” She pressed the next button a bit too quickly for her liking, but she couldn’t help it. Veronica hardly ever had the money to pay for herself, so hanging out with her would turn into her wanting to do things then sulking when no one wanted to pay for her. Charlie was more than willing to help out, but Veronica liked to say she felt bad about having him pay. It pained her to think this way, considering the fact that Veronica had been her friend for such a long time. Needless to say, she wasn’t going out with them anytime soon, especially when she just got back from a long trip for work. 

“Hey Alice, it’s Ellie.” Eleanor’s quiet voice came over the old speaker, and for some strange reason her tone seemed to alarm Alice. “ I just wanted to talk about this afternoon cause uh… I don’t want to assume anything. I love you, you know that, but… who was that guy? He looked familiar and I just couldn’t shake this feeling I got when I looked at him, like, he just had bad vibes. I swear I’ve seen him in the news and I saw he followed you into the bathroom and I’m just… nevermind, this is stupid. Forget I called you. It’s fine.” The message ended abruptly. 

Alice stared at the machine for a moment, unsure of what to think of her sister’s message. Everything Eleanor says makes her wish she never left home in the first place, or it made her wish she moved away when she had the chance. Clearly a lot had happened since she left, and for some strange reason her sister seemed more and more paranoid. Maybe it was just that restaurant, but Alice wasn’t completely sure. 

The little red light went off, meaning that was the last message. With a sigh she sat down on one of the chairs by the table, removing her boots and carelessly tossing them in the corner of the room. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath as she attempted to relax, but no matter how hard she tried, her mind couldn’t be put at ease. Her sister’s words played through her head over and over. Despite the warnings and red flags coming from her sister, the mystery behind her reactions intrigued Alice. She enjoyed a little mystery every now and then, and the unknown excited her. Maybe it would do her some good to read up about what happened in the last ten years since she left. 

She glanced at the clock on the microwave as her stomach growled. It was nearing six o’clock, and despite driving around for several hours, she didn’t think to stop somewhere to get something to eat. Sitting up straight and raising her arms to stretch, she let out a well-deserved yawn. If it weren’t so early, she’d go to bed. 

She dragged herself to the fridge, wrapping her cardigan closer around her to make up for the chill in her apartment. Squinting in the harsh refrigerator light, she was met with disappointment. Her fridge was mostly empty, aside from a pitcher of water and a few condiments. Any food that might’ve been in there from before she left would’ve gone bad. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. With a disheartened sigh she turned back around to grab her shoes. A trip to the store at this time of day wasn’t too out of the ordinary for her, but she’d rather stay home. It was better to get some shopping out of the way now than order out for a few nights in her opinion. 

Though as she slipped her boots on and grabbed her keys, she couldn’t help but feel ordering Chinese food wouldn’t be so bad. 

⧪⧪⧪⧪⧪

The local grocery store hadn’t changed much since she’d last been in town. It was still rather small and located next to a mini shopping center with a coffee shop and Chinese restaurant next door. Alice made sure she went into the restaurant and ordered some food to go before heading into the store. 

The inside of the store was also relatively the same, other than a few of the isles switching around - nothing that reading the signs above them couldn’t fix. It was rather crowded for a Friday evening, with people rushing around trying to buy what they needed for the long weekend. She wondered briefly how many people would have barbecues or parties, and then she began to wonder how many people would be alone for the weekend. 

Absentmindedly, Alice began to sort through the apples, minding her business as she got lost in thought. She could almost say she was wallowing in her own self pity at that point, realizing she would be alone all weekend, though that wasn’t through others shunning her. Half the time she just felt she didn’t have the energy to deal with others, and while she often longed for companionship - platonically or otherwise - the thought of having to be uprooted for months to years at a time made her keep everyone away. She didn’t have time for friends who may or may not disappoint her, nor did she have time for lovers who might end up disappointing her in the end. 

“Can I cut in here real quick?” A familiar voice asked from over her shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat and her nerves felt as if they’d all caught fire. She turned around, her eyes meeting with gray ones that were just a shade lighter than her own, and while every instinct told her not to smile and engage, she did.

“Yeah, sorry, I kinda zoned out.” Alice muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped out of the way. Both of her hands found their way to her basket’s handle. He hummed in acknowledgement as he leaned over, grabbing a single green apple from the top of the pile. 

When he looked at her again, something flashed in his eyes. Alice wasn’t sure what to think; now that they weren’t in the restaurant she could tell he was more relaxed, and with that he seemed more attractive. It also helped that her sister’s strange words and warnings weren’t in the forefront of her mind. 

“Bathroom girl?” He pointed at her, a small smile on his face. Recognition - that was what flashed in his eyes. Alice let out a small, airy chuckle and it felt like the first time she’d breathed since he came around. 

“Yeah that’s me.” She couldn’t help the genuine smile that broke out on her face, or the way she couldn’t hold his gaze for too long. 

“I see you’re feeling better, that’s good.” He stated, gesturing to her basket full of groceries. She nodded.

“Yep… I’m sorry about that earlier, I always get that way after a long flight.” It was easier to keep lying about that anyway. His eyes widened as his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Not from around here?” She shook her head.

“I am, kind of, I just have to fly out for work sometimes. I’m not here often.” She explained, trying her best to move on now. The conversation suddenly got a bit too personal for her. 

“Well that’s a shame, this place has really improved over the last few years.” He remarked as he leaned on the display. Alice nodded in acknowledgement, and just as she was going to leave, he spoke again. “I never got your name.” 

“I don’t think you asked.” She countered without thinking. She realized she might have sounded too abrasive or mad, which she wasn’t, she just spoke the truth. She didn’t forget how he had a job to do, so she wasn’t going to bother him with that information earlier. Not to mention how unnerved she was in that place. She looked back at him, and when she saw that he wasn’t offended or put off, she told him.

“Alice. And I only know your last name, Mr. Afton.” She said, realizing quickly that she was flirting in the middle of a grocery store. 

“It’s William.” Her heart soared and she wasn’t sure if it was because another small part of the big mystery surrounding him was solved or if she was falling way too fast for this stranger. She straightened up and brought her basket onto her forearm. She held out her hand for him to shake.

“Well, it’s nice to actually meet you, William.” His hand was much larger than hers, and it was cold. “I gotta get going, though, so um…”

“Do you live around here?” He asked almost enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, actually, just a couple blocks away.” There was something about the way he looked at her… “Why?” 

“Just wondering. I was hoping to see you around, well, until you have to leave again.” He was charming, she’d give him that much. It felt like she wasn’t in control of her actions or emotions in that moment, the way that she smiled so wide her face almost hurt bothered her. Maybe it was because she was lonely… she was touch-starved too.

“I’m here for a while by the looks of it.” She told him, her gaze meeting his again and every time she gets a better look at him she can’t help but think of how attractive he is. He had to have been in his mid to late forties - which meant he was nearly twice her age, but not quite - with high cheekbones and a cleft chin. His dark hair and pale skin complimented his eyes. She stared at his lips for a bit longer than she wanted to. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” It was a bold choice from her, but as her mind returned to the thoughts she was having before he showed up, she was reminded of her loneliness. She wasn’t going to be alone this time around. She liked him, maybe he liked her, it was a chance she was willing to take. 

This time he was flustered, smiling wide while he avoided her expecting gaze and fumbling to find the right words. Perhaps she was too forward, but as she looked at his hands, she realized she didn’t see a ring. As far as she knew, he was single too, and again, it couldn’t hurt to try. 

“I’m… no, I-”

“Shit, I’m sorry I completely misread this whole,” Alice vaguely gestured between the two of them, blushing furiously out of embarrassment, “thing. Whatever’s happening here.” 

“I can assure you, you didn’t.” That caught her off guard. William finally looked her in the eye again, his demeanor different than moments earlier. He seemed to have gotten ahold of himself. “I’m not doing anything, no.” 

She immediately began to dig through her purse for a pen and a scrap of paper, though she was only able to find the pen. She looked back up at him with a small smile.

“I was gonna give you my number but I don’t have a piece of paper.” She reached out for his hand. “Can I write it on your hand?” She asked meekly. Without saying another word, he unbuttoned his sleeves, which were currently rolled up on his forearms, and held out his arm. 

“Write it on my wrist.” It almost sounded like a demand, but Alice didn’t mind. She followed his instructions, writing her number just low enough to be covered by his sleeves. She was standing so close to him now, and just like in the pizzeria she could practically feel his breath on her skin. She finished off her number with a little bat, nothing special, but she thought it added a bit of personal flair. She backed away, smiling at him again as she watched him roll down his sleeves and re-button them now over his wrists. 

She didn’t question why he would have to hide it, but she assumed it had something to do with work. Maybe he had to go back after their little meeting and she just didn’t know. 

“Call me later?” She asked hopefully, and he smiled. 

“I’ll try. I’m afraid I’m a bit tied up tonight and I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” She was way too excited about this. 

“It’s no problem, call me when you have the time. I gotta go though, I have stuff waiting for me next door.” And with that, she said her goodbyes, making her way toward the front of the store to check out.

Her mind and heart were racing. She was almost in disbelief, and there was a part of her that was shocked she was so forward. She supposed she should be more surprised that he was just as forward and interested as she was. She wanted to know what he truly thought of her, after all, they barely knew each other. 

Alice figured some relationships started with less and hoped for the best - hoped that she wouldn’t be so alone. 

#fnaf fanfic #fnaf fandom #five nights at freddys #william afton x oc #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf x oc #fnaf x you #fnaf

[min-yunki-agustd]

if you don’t mind, i would like to request sick jimin with caretaker yoongi, with a scat focus…

basically, jimin is on a date with yoongi but something he ate earlier (expired maybe) has upset his stomach and it’s hitting him in the middle of dinner, so after his second time excusing himself to the toilet, he has to admit his problem to yoongi… when he comes out the second time he tells yoongi he doesn’t feel well and needs to go home, and so the elder complies and they leave...

on the drive home, jimin is feeling worse & slightly nauseous bc of his sudden sickness and nerves over “ruining” the date but yoongi is just worried about him making it home.

when they get back, the other members have locked them out and they won’t unlock it until jimin and yoongi kiss, but jimin is desperate and they think it’s a joke until jimin ends up messing himself outside and yoongi gets really angry... then yoongi locks the two of them in the bathroom and he helps jimin through his pain and helps him clean up.

if the messing isn’t something you’re comfortable writing, then you can skip that & just maybe do yoongi getting super protective and mad at the members and he yells at them to let them inside so he can help jimin inside and tend to him & he lightly scolds them to feed their guilt when they find out jimin is sick

sorry it’s so long ㅠㅠ

I do not mind at all! It's okay that its long detailed descriptions help! I apologize for geting to your fic so late! I hope you still enjoy it!

Sickie: Jimin

Caretaker: yoongi

TW: Scat, and a little emeto

There it was again that odd and painful full feeling in Jimin's stomach. it wasn't there before the date but it is now. At first, he thought it was nerves from the date being nervous didn't usually send him to the bathroom. He was now thinking it was something he had earlier that could be messing with his stomach. He knew that the food Junkgook gave him didn't look quite right. This is the second time that he went to the bathroom. He knew for a fact that yoongi was concerned at this point.

But he also knew that he wasn't going to make it a minute longer sting at that table. His stomach bubbled painfully as he entered the bathroom. he lacked onto it ignoring the looks he got from others leaving the bathroom. He finally made it inside and got into a stall immediately. His stomach gurgled loudly. He felt embarrassed. He had no control over his stomach. He growned and bubleed up. He hoped he wasn't going to be in here for very long. He didn't want to keep his date constantly waiting.

After being in the bathroom for what felt like years he could finally leave. He heard tons of people leave and come in and out of the bathroom. Once he washed his hands and actually left the bathroom He noticed that a few couples around them had finished their meals and left. That made Jimin feel nervous. How long was he in there?

Then he saw yoongi. All his troubles were pushed to the back of his mind. Yoongi sat there waiting patiently he hadn't noticed Jimin on his way back. Jimin took this time to admire him. Yoongi had stopped eating his food I guess he was waiting for me... Jimin though. He didn't want to accidentally finish off his food while waiting. Jimin began walking to his date. He knew Yoongi would have questions for him and he'd probably be concerned with all the time he spent in the bathroom.

Jimin approached Yoongi nervously he was afraid he would mention Jimin leaving before Jimin got the chance to explain Himself. But yoongi stayed quiet. Yoongi watched as the younger man sat down in the chair and inform him. " you ok?" Yoongi asked trying to hide the mountains of concern in his voice. Jimin was reminded of his stomach and put a hand on it trying to quell it.

"well," Jimin started, Not really, my stomach has been giving me a lot of trouble, and I -I think I need to go home."

" ok, yoong says, " then less go. I'll get the waiter to get us the bill and a few to-go boxes. " Jimin thanked full for yoongi being too kind and helpful about the situation. Yoongi even handled the check." Jimin said it be on him tonight but he didn't argue his stomach wouldn't let him he just needed to get out of here and be in pain in peace at home.

Yoongi escorted Jimin to his car and started it up to head home. Yoongi didn't talk much as he drove. This left Jimin in his own head. Thinking about how it feels like he ruined the date going back earlier. The date didn't even feel like it had properly started before Jimin rushed himself to the bathroom for the first then a second time.

He was beginning to feel gross. for a moment he thought it was the car but he realized it was the guilt in his stomach. what would yoongi think of him for ruining the date? did he think he didn't like him and he was just avoiding him hiding in the bathroom? He held on a little tighter to his stomach. The guilt feeling in his stomach made him super nauseous. He had to force himself to swallow down a ton of spit. Was he going to puke? He shook at the thought of his body finding another way to completely ruin the night. He managed to keep his stomach at bay for the rest of the driving. Yoongi despite his cool seeming exterior was very concerned for Jimin. He took a glance at JImin. Jimin had a firm grasp on his stomach. It must hurt a lot Yoongi thought. Yoongi wondered if Jimin needed the bathroom again. Yoongi just hoped they made it home in time.

Nausea faded away but Jimins stomach still felt absolutely terrible. He felt that he'd need the bathroom soon.

Jimin looked over to yoongi who was focused on driving. Yoongi hyung? I - I think I need the bathroom again..." Jimin felt embarrassed to have to tell him but he knew he should. " oh - Yoongi says not knowing what to do. Yoongi thought out loud, " well, there aren't really any places around here you can go. I can either keep going home because we are almost there or I can circle back to and final place if you need me to? Jimin opted for headed home. He'd feel more comfortable there he explained.

Yoongi sped up, going beyond the speed limit. He really hoped he make it in time, But he wouldn't be mad at him if he didn't he thought to himself knowing he probably couldn't help it. Yoongi pushed that thought to the back of his mind hoping that be the worst-case scenario.

Once they arrived at the dorm the outside light was on typically meaning the members left the door open for them. Jimin and yoongi rushed out of the car. Yoongi twisted the door hand to get inside. It was locked? Jimin behind him began to wiggle around unable to stay in one place. his stomach was angry for making it wait. "NAMJOON OPEN UP! Yoongi yelled. That was the loudest he had been all night.

No response-

Yoongi pulls out his phone and calls seokjin. He picks up. yg hears Junkook, namjoon, and taehyung giggling in the background. before yg can even say anything Jin speaks up. You two gotta smooch to get inside. Yoongi was extremely annoyed he didn't wasn't Jimin to be in pain while waiting for these idiots to open up. He really wishes he brought his key. but the members said they'd be him tonight. " JIMIN DOESN’T FEEL WELL! LET US IN! Yoongi turned to see three eyes peeping through the window. He could hear Jin, Namajoon, Junkook, and tae yelling kiss! Kiss! KIss! through the glass.

Yoongi was extremely angry. He began to bang on the door repeatedly. He thought about kicking the door down himself but stopped when he heard Jimin beginning to cry. Yoong felt so helpless. All he could do is watch. Jimin couldn't hold on any longer. He was sweating and his stomach was giving him hell.

Yoongi tried to comfort him but Jimin was far too embarrassed to let yg touch him. Jimin's pants were completely destroyed. and Jimin couldn't;t stop crying. the pain in his stomach didn't stop either. Jimin's legs began to feel weak. he almost feels down. Yoongi kept him upright. Jimin cried on yg's shoulder.

The boys could see what was happening from the window and immediately opened the door. Yoongi ushered Jimin to the bathroom so he could finish up.

Yoongi told him he'd be right back to go get some clean clothes and towels. Yoongi went straight to the living room where Jin, Namjoon, tae, and jk said with sad and worried expressions on their faces. " ANd WHOES BRIGHT IdEA WAS IT TO LOCK US OUT!?" NOt a single one of rem responded. Yoongi continued," I told you Jimin wasn't feeling well. " I was being serious," Yoongi continued to scold them. They all kept quiet.

They felt extremely bad. Yoongi got the supplies he needed with the help of the others. The others asked if they could check on Jimin and apologies but yoongi told them no. Yoongi knew Jimin would just be extremely embarrassed.

After Jimin was finished and cleaned up. Yoongi got Jimin some meds and got Jimin into bed. Before Jimin was about to fall asleep the other members came in and apologies. Jimin accept the apologies and they all went to bed early that night. Yoongi by JImins side getting Him whatever he needed.

__________________________________________

I enjoyed writing this I hope you liked it.

#tw emetophobia #twscat #tw nausea #sick bts #bts sickfic #bts emeto #bts scat #sickieJimin #caretakeryoongi

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Leaf here again, same TWs (financial abuse mostly) and ableism tw

Hello I'm back already because today was a lot.. Right now I feel like venting mostly, it's just that a lot has happened

So basically I had a rough week already and since I'm autistic I need to have more down time than others, and I Didn't have it. Many unexpected things piling up and I got so little sleep.

My mom ended up giving me a check that covered 2 classes and I'm not surprized because they intentionally play on my panic (I had anticipated that the way they told me was on purpose to make me panic). So it's not great but I got that covered at least.

I also had some money that my grandma gave me but it didn't cover much either because these classes are extremely expensive (I'm still really grateful however). When I paid for the classes I told them to remove my father's email address, they won't send him the bills or the planned classes anymore. To be honest I don't know if this was a good choice because everything is so hard to anticipate, but they send me the documents so it should be fine.

Then I went to my driving lesson and it was awful? I didn't have enough time to prepare because like I said the week was rough so I was in pain, I coudln't mask so I drove poorly and my teacher kept criticizing me every 2 seconds. To summarize I've experienced this type of behavior since forever because I'm disabled and people refuse to believe that I'm trying.

So I ended up crying when we talked about my progress during that specific class at the end, and it was really uncomfortable. It's retraumatizing and I really hate it because I could tell I was getting better, even today because messing up is part of the process.

Then I came back and learned my other grandma was going to come over, so it was a good opportunity to ask her for hel. Even though it worked out in the end, it was such a pain to just talk to her alone. I had to ask my mom twice and be super firm just so we would be alone together.

My grandma said that they had planned to give me a lot of money after I got my driver's licence, but since I need it now and I'm responsible they already gave me everything. It's a relief although I'm not sure if it will cover everything, but I will try to leave that on the side for now because it's given me so much anxiety lately.

I suppose I'm back to the "normal" window, so things are "okay". Basically if I work my ass off and do the most people pleasing i can (since my parents disgust me and i dont like to lie), then things stay at a doable level. I suspect that my parents are doing it on purpose too, because if they were to go all out then they would lose their good image. I use that to my advantage by pretending I still believe in it and care about them - though they seem to suspect I don't believe any of it, but if they can pretend we're a great family, then I can too.

To be honest it's a bit hard to talk about this because I feel like people will call me a liar for needing help when I genuinely never know which options I have with my parents. They can always choose to have a random power trip but sometimes they do give me crumbs. That makes me afraid of being misunderstood because I do come from a "comfortable" background, but my quality of life is less than ideal. Even if they weren't abusive, there's more than meets the eye - my dad gets paid well, but he's a factory worker who didn't pass high school. If he were to get fired (which will happen eventually), he wouldn't have the same salary anymore.

Hi Leaf,

I'm so sorry about what's been going on. It sounds like you've been going through a lot recently, not only with paying for classes but also issues with your driving lesson. It makes sense how being paid or not can be a significant source of anxiety.

I wish your driving instructor could be more understanding of what you've been going through, and that they could be more mindful of how critiquing someone constantly can affect someone, as well as more constructive and compassionate ways to offer suggestions or corrections. I can understand how this experiencing was retraumatizing for you.

I can see how this might be hard to talk about. Please remember that you know yourself best and it's not other people's place to tell you what your needs are. Whatever needs you do have are valid and deserve to be respected and met. Obviously internalizing this is easier said than done especially with experiences like yours where you're made to feel afraid of being misunderstood and such.

I hope that you can find healing and begin to process everything you've been going through in a healthy way, hopefully with the guidance and mediation of a mental health professional such as a therapist, if that is an option for you.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions feel free to add on. Otherwise I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #leaf #tw ableism #tw abuse #tw emotional abuse