#jesse shut the hell up

[benbraeden]

no because imagine you have been told by multiple beings that you will be forced to kill someone who is essentially a brother to you, because he will become evil?

[clearcutcasualty]

A lot of criticism of Catholicism is valid, but holy shit, no one is unhinged about them as much as the hardcore right wingers are

[engagemythrusters]

Here's some angst, because sometimes bodies just feel like a mess. plus a bad background xoxo

[grotesquevi]

misc. smut prompt #24 with ellie😝😘

cw   #  18+ mdni, academic rivals, fingering, dirty talk, loser sub!ellie, choking. as usual, this comes with a music rec. this is an special celebration as i just reached 1k followers using this prompt list. wc: 1.8k they will be smaller than this also. i got heavily carried away. what the hell.

“can you stop being a damn pervert for five seconds of your life?” oh man. ellie shouldn't be enjoying this so much. shouldn't be so entertained by the scrunch your nose gives when talking to her, standing tall and ready to punch her in the nose if necessary "i can see you staring at my tits. quit being annoying."

"we are sharing a cig of peace, psycho" she dares to lie for a moment, turning away to light up the stick between her lips for a second, the smoke filling the air as she exhales — "i'm not staring at your tits."

"why did you drag me here anyway?" you inquire already losing your patience "i can barely hear the music and i'm sure jesse wont like the fact we're smoking in his room."

ellie cant help it anyway, when she's blowing the smoke to your face and you sigh pissed. of course you're acting like a prick: she took the #1 spot in most of your classes, become the favorite of the teachers taking away your spot even when you actually sacrifice a lot to have the attention you have only for her to be what? barely moving a finger to say something incredibly intelligent? fucking cunt.

"jesus. i brought you here to offer a deal, one that could benefit you if you listen for once" ellie swears she can see the tension, rigid muscles even when she's giving you the cigarette and you doubt for a second to accept it: is she capable of poison it? yes. but she's far from doing that to you—. "i was thinking of letting you be the first of the class again."

"you what?"

"yeah" to be sincere. ellie williams doesn't give two shits about being the best of the class, it's a title she's not that interested in carrying, and while you smoke, she also knows about the fact she's biased cause you're so pretty it hurts to see the hate on your face every time you look down her way. how you're able to be so actively avoiding her like she has done something awful, something more than just academic reasons. "i don't care about having the best grades. i can be mistaken in a couple of answers on the next tests and you'll be back in the game."

"and what do you want in return?"

"nothing."

"nothing? you can't be serious."

"yes," she thinks about it for a second before her impulses take over, ellie will regret this later after three more beers. "i won't make you sleep with me if that's what you're wondering."

"and why not?"

her breathing hitches on the back of her throat for a second, and she can't tell if you're being serious or if you're just messing with her — "are you asking me why i'm not blackmailing you with sex?"

"no, i'm asking if you want to sleep with me" you rephrase again hitting the jackpot, and as the silence settles in like a heavy blanket, it makes your rival stay silent for a minute or two before you're adding impatient as ever: "answer me. c'mon, i know you're quick to catch up."

"i just want you to stop giving me that look."

"which look?"

"you know. that look you give me every day in uni. when you're avoiding me at all costs. like there's no one you could hate more."

you try to think about an answer that's good enough to fight her accusations, but its impossible as you shut up and instead, smoke from the cigarette she gave you. the organic tobacco she rolled in an small paper in dead silence minutes before.

"i do hate you," you reply sincerely, "you're more intelligent than me. funnier. hotter. every one i've ever talked to fucking loves you, and it makes me hate you even more."

"i'm sorry."

"no i don't think you're sorry, ellie" now you're the one staring at her tits, at the half buttoned-tucked shirt, the necklace that gets lost inside right between a bra-less chest. she's using this black sleek pants and ellie can swear she can feel the holes your eyes make when taking in every part of her body, swallowing her slowly. "all of this outfit- is because you had an important test today?"

she doesn't realize you're that close at first, too late to say anything as she gulps down and nods—. "you mean for the suit? yes. needed a beer after all the stress."

"how did it go?” you’re so quick to reply, to keep the conversation going the way you want to. should be considered a damn talent cause it helps her brain take some time out when ellie’s feeling your hand in her legs, squeezing the flesh ever so slightly that she has to try so hard not to look at the contact there, burning. “bet you got an A since you’re a smart ass.”

"well, if i'm right, then i should be getting an A- while you can have the A+ next friday when it's your turn."

"you really thought about this a lot huh?"

"i did- sorry, are you trying to seduce me?" you seemed to forgot about the cigarette now consuming on the empty glass of water close to jesse's bed, makes ellie think about how she’s not blushing, why she sounds so confident even when you blatantly laugh at her face.

"you know what i hate even more about you?" your-so-long rival is currently lost in the color of your eyes, this damn t-shirt you're wearing that gives her such a nice view of your cleavage when she's fighting hard to keep her eyes focused on your face instead of your chest, have some decency for once — "how you got me all curious about you, without even noticing."

ellie's heart beats loudly in her ear, the sound making everything else fall into silence: you are flirting with her. and she let it happen cause she's amazed when your fingers tightens around her leg, squeezing the skin with a much more noticeable force and making her unsure for a second if thats you making a move, cause she's so into letting you have all of her.

of course it's a fucking move.

your lips are soft against hers, almost unsure if you should be more demanding until ellie's pushing you closer, parting her legs mid-way through the unexpected kiss as a silent invitation, as a way of almost saying she needs you taking more, over direct skin and not the layer of her jeans.

"yeah i am seducing you. i think its working just fine" you finally accepted, looking at her through those eyes she knows already from memory, that smile you always do when things go your way—. "would you finish opening up your legs f'me so i can finger you better?"

what amazes ellie even more than your question, is the blatant way she listens to you and actually do what you ask. when she's parting her legs wide open and her weight rests over the palm of her left hand when leaning backwards, and you seemed pleased as you're unzipping her pants, taking your shirt off cause you're kind enough to give her a nice view, something to ground her and bring the astronaut back to earth.

"is this okay?" she's erratic when nodding, as your hand toys with the waistband of her underwear — "you gonna tell me if it's too much, els?”

"god, it's more than okay- i'll do anything you want me to," she cant help but choke when saying it, you're making her sweat in her cute suit. "anything at all. you just have to name it."

"good," you reply leaving soft kisses in the crook of her neck, not near enough to be marks, but yes to leave saliva glistening in the skin that slowly burned even hotter. "you just stay where you are and don't move. got you where i want you."

so your fingers graze against her underwear, soaked already it clings into her cunt, molding to your fingers. even from over a barrier of cotton, ellie swears she can feel the warmth of your fingertips go down her folds, pushing the underwear with a couple of digits until she can actually feel the roughness of it rubbing against the sensitive flesh, torturing her, driving her to a madness she craves to feel like a fever.

"oh fuck," ellie moans, her lips part unafraid of making some noises when the music's outside too loud to care, when she already locked the door from when she invited you to smoke a cigarette under the premise of having to talk. her hips rub on slow circles and suddenly she moving against your fingers, staining her black pants with her own arousal, "is this your way of making it up f'me? for making you number one again?"

"mhm," you're too concentrated to use your words when you're making her underwear to the side, cursing under your breath about how her cute outfit does nothing but get in the way, it makes ellie chuckle at your lack of patience even when she's already overwhelmed by your intoxicating touch as she holds you by the arm afraid you'll slip away.

"you've always been the number one" she manages to say when you're rubbing on her clit, when you're touching her as a reward she deserves more than ever — "you know that. you've always been the best."

she's feeding on your ego and it's so damn rewarding, so damn good. makes your skin shiver when ellie's riding your fingers, when the chain on around her neck catches your attention and you're using the jewelry to choke her, have total control and just enough force to wrap the silver around your fist there in your free hand and pull sufficient to make her gasp.

"what else?" you ask, drunk on her words "what else you've been keeping from me? you were salivating for me like this all semester?"

her cheeks finally acquire the most intense shade of red you've ever seen, spreading against her freckles, going down her neck, and you'd like to tease her about her reaction, make fun of her when she's so lame about you, so given to whatever you ask.

and ellie's puzzled at this point cause when she cums all over your hand? you've barely fucked her with a couple of fingers, stretching her cunt patiently as she does nothing more than whine until you came across that nice spot she loves, the very same that makes her body shake in not nearly enough minutes.

is she blushing at the lack of oxygen when you're choking her with the necklace she loves? or is it thanks to the force of the orgasm that got her all flustered and shy?

"did you just cum?" you ask almost not believing it, brows furrowed, still hungry for more "hell. get up. we're going again i'm not really done with you."

damn right you're number one, was there ever any doubt?

[illusioninfnty]

I'll Take You to Heaven

જ⁀➴ Childhood Best Friends : Day 7

feat. Josh Washington ᯓ★ A game of seven minutes in heaven has you and your best friend revealing your feelings for each other...and then some.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, takes place during prologue, dual virgins, dry humping, fingering, handjob, getting caught (kind of)

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“Ugh, c’mon, it’ll be fun!” Jess tugs at your arm, annoyed at your resistance to her suggestion—a game of seven minutes in heaven.

“There is no way in hell I’m agreeing to that,” you say. Tensions were already high in your friend group, and you didn’t want any fights happening while all of you were stuck in the Washington’s cabin for a weekend, stuck in the middle of the snowy mountains. Emily was pissed because Hannah had feelings for Mike, Chris and Ashley had feelings for each other and refused to tell the other, and you didn’t want to even think about what Jess was doing with getting close to Mike. You didn’t want to be around to witness the inevitable chaos this game would bring.

But really, you couldn’t be one to talk. You, Chris, and Josh had been inseparable since you were kids, and throughout your time of being friends with Josh you had slowly developed a crush on him. You knew you could never tell him, for fear of ruining your friendship. You valued him too much to risk that.

“You’re so booooring.” Jess rolls her eyes at you, before whispering into your ear.

“Shut up!” You yank your arm out of her grasp, heat rising to your face. “What the fuck do you know about that? That’s not why!”

Her eyes light up. “So it is true!” A smirk rises to her face, but before she can say anything else, a hand falls against your shoulder.

“Ooh, what’re we whispering about over here? Keeping secrets from dear old Joshie, are ya?”

Mortified that Josh almost heard you guys, you almost want to hug Jess for speaking first as you can’t find anything to say.

“Hey Josh. You’ll play, right?”

He grins. “You know I’m down for anything.”

“Well,” Jess turns back to you, “you need to convince her to join us. Such a party pooper.”

Josh turns to you and throws his arm around your shoulders, forcing you to lean into his side. “Aw, c’mon honey, you can’t leave me alone with these idiots.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t have it in you to deny Josh. “Let’s play this stupid game.”

Jess squeals as she grabs your arm, leading you (and Josh, who’s hand hasn’t left you) into the living room, where everyone is seated on the large carpet.

“Look who I’ve found!” Jess says in a sing-songy voice. Cheers ring out and the group opens up some space on the floor for the three of you to sit. You and Jess take a seat between Ashley and Matt, while Josh sits next to Chris, almost directly across from you.

“You’re first.” Emily says, shoving the empty glass bottle in your direction. “Since you were the last one to show.”

You didn’t have the strength in you to protest, hoping that this game will be over quickly and hopefully no fights break out. You just wanted one quiet night without any of your friends arguing with each other.

As you spin the bottle, you just pray it lands on someone who you knew you could actually deal with being alone for seven minutes, like Beth or Sam.

But as long as it didn’t land on Josh, you were okay with it.

The bottle slowly comes to a stop, and you see the neck of it facing opposite of you.

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes slowly move up to see the person the bottle points towards, and you’re met with Josh’s green eyes staring right into you.

Just your fucking luck.

Jess giggles from beside you as she drags you to stand up. Josh slowly gets up across from you, strangely quiet as Chris seems to nudge him slightly.

As Josh steps his way around the group, Jess grabs you both and pulls you away. “Have fun in there, lovebirds!”

“Yeah, don’t forget to wear protection, man!” Mike calls out from behind you. You stick up your middle finger behind you and you and Josh enter the designated space for this game, a fairly spacious storage closet with only the moon providing you two with any sort of light.

As the door locks you plop down onto the floor, your head falling into your hands. You hear Josh take a seat next to you, a hand coming onto your shoulder as he rubs circles into it with his thumb.

“What’s got you down, honey? Thought we were supposed to have fun tonight.”

“It’s nothing.” You sigh, turning to your friend. “Really, I’m okay.” You wince with how fake it sounds as it leaves your lips. You hated lying to Josh, but how the hell were you supposed to tell him you’ve been in love with him for years.

“Really?” Josh raises an eyebrow. “’Cause you’ve barely spoken to me all day.”

You throw your head back, your actions of trying to make sure Josh doesn’t find out about your crush on him finally catching up to you.

“What is it then?”

His voice is firm, and you know by that tone there’s no way you can avoid the topic now.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you mutter.

“Oh yeah? Try me. We’ve known each other for years, I’m sure I’ve heard it all.”

“You haven’t heard that I’ve been in love with you since the sixth grade.”

He lets out a laugh, and your heart drops to your stomach. “Sixth grade? That’s when I had pimples and shit!”

You can’t help but laugh along with him, giving him a punch in his shoulder. “Shut up. I didn’t say I had good taste, did I?”

“Even if you didn't, it sure as hell works out for me, considering I’ve liked you even longer than that.”

You grow silent at his words, taking in what he said. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.” He narrows his eyes. “Unless you’re fucking with me?”

“Why would I be fucking with you?” Josh stays silent and you roll your eyes. “Don’t piss me off, dude.” You go to push against him to get more space but Josh grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with his own. Your heart starts beating rapidly in your chest feeling his warm palm against your own.

“Please don’t call me dude before I’m about to kiss you.”

You gasp as Josh leans in and captures your lips, closing your eyes and indulging in the sensation. The kiss feels clumsy, his lips clashing against your own in a way that exposes the lack of experience, but it's made up for with passion. Josh leans into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you allow yourself to fall into his embrace. Your hands come up to either side of his head, one moving to run itself through his hair as he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away just as you do to get some air. You both pant heavily, staring at each other, and a bead of saliva that connects you two breaks.

A grin breaks out across Josh’s face, and a shy smile finds its way onto yours. He rests his forehead against your own, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that for,” he murmurs.

“Trust me,” you say, “I know.”

“Four minutes!” You hear Jess from outside faintly, and you jump slightly in Josh’s hold. “There better be some action going on in there!”

“Guess we better give the people what they want.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

Your lips find his again in an instant, and this time this kiss is more desperate—more passionate. Josh’s hands run up and down your body and you moan into him, your back arching as your breasts squish themselves against his chest. You’re sitting in his lap now from how close you two are, and you start to move your hips against Josh. Josh groans into your mouth, and you take that as an opportunity to shove your tongue in there. Your tongues clash as you sloppily make out, drool escaping your lips as you clumsily figure out the best way to do it.

Josh ruts his hips up into you, keeping you still with his hands around your waist. His cock hardens against you, and the friction of his jeans rubbing into your clothed slit has you moaning into the kiss. His hands tug at your hair, and you already know that it’s going to be hard explaining the mess of it when your time is up.

You break away from the kiss as a particular loud moan leaves your lips, inside choosing to bite into Josh’s shoulder as a way to conceal your noises.

“Wait,” you say, before you and Josh go any farther. He looks up at you expectantly. “I haven’t done anything like this before,” you admit, nervous about your lack of experience.

Josh smiles, running a hand across the back of his neck. “Me neither. We can figure it out together.”

Pride washes over you at being Josh’s first, even though you know it’s not something you really have to be too happy about. But you’ve grown up with the guy, pretty much experiencing all of life together with him. It only made sense that you had each other’s firsts in this way, too.

You let yourself fall back into Josh’s embrace as one of his hands leaves your waist to reach into your sweatpants. It takes him a bit of fumbling but he eventually finds your pussy, teasing it through your soaked underwear. The squelching sounds of your wetness cause you to bury your face into the crook of his neck, embarrassed by how obvious your arousal was.

Josh chuckles at your reaction, his fingers continuing to pet you and you buck your hips into them.

“S-shut up,” you argue weakly, not wanting to see his face as he teases you.

“Didn’t say anything,” he whispers into your ear.

You figure that the only way to get Josh to stop teasing you was to beat him at his own game. Your hands reach down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, and you hear a halt in breath as his fingers falter slightly in their rhythm as you stick your hand down his pants, palming at his bulge.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “feels good.”

You hum, moving your hand across his bulge as he ruts his hips against you. He leaves kisses up and down your neck, causing you to gasp and squeeze him harder, a groan tumbling from him.

“Fuck yeah, hon, keep doing that.”

You finally move your hand into his underwear, wrapping it around the full girth of his cock as you stroke him at that same pace of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Josh,” you whine, pressing your body to him as close as you can. “Gonna cum.” One of your hands digs into his backside trying to find some stability as the other continues to stroke him.

His pace quickens and broken moans escape you as you buck into him frantically, a loud moan falling from you orgasm onto his fingers.

Josh isn’t too far behind as you hear a groan from him and a warm stickiness envelopes your fingers. 

You reach around and thankfully find a roll of paper towels in the storage closet to wipe your hands with.

Josh leans up and kisses you, and you sigh into it, bartering with yourself that it’ll be the last one before you’ll begin cleaning yourself up.

“I am approaching the door.”

Chris’s voice rings out as you and Josh jump back, eyes wide as you stare at each other.

“I am about to put my hand on the doorknob.”

“Fuck,” you groan, hastily trying to fix your appearance so that you don’t look like you were two seconds away from fucking.

The door opens and Chris stands in front of you two, an unamused look across his face.

“You’re lucky I was able to convince Jess to let me do this,” Chris sighs, turning his head away for a brief moment so that you and Josh can try to make yourselves look a little bit more presentable. “Although I think I’m the unlucky one now.”

Josh turns to you, snickering. “Aww, honey. Cochise cares about us!”

“Ooh, you loooove us.” You imitate exaggerated kisses in Chris’s direction, and then give Josh a kiss on his cheek.

“Man, I’m really gonna have to be the third wheel now,” you hear him mutter to himself, although loud enough that you and Josh can still hear.

“Ashley’s still waiting for you,” you tell him, teasingly.

“Fuck you, guys,” he retorts, spinning back around and walking back towards the living room. “I’m gonna need a drink after this.”

Josh pouts mockingly as he holds your hand. “Aw man, without us? Don’t worry, we’re all gonna get drunk off our asses tonight.”

Chris shrugs. “Go crazy, I guess. I really hope you two aren’t some of those horny drunks.”

You wink at him as the three of you cross into the living room, the sounds of your friends’ voices growing louder. “Can’t promise you anything, bud.”

[understrangeforbiddenskies]

with you, there's no pretending

ellie williams x fem reader

↣ LOSER ELLIE LOSER ELLIE LOSER ELLIE cus there is not enough representation

*+:｡.｡ warnings / kissing, so much fluff, some angst, joel mention, smoking weed, SLIGHT nsfw but it's really just a makeout

𝄞  juna - clairo

author's note: ellie was the reason i accepted i like women so this is a trip down memory lane (sorry if it isn't accurate i haven't properly read an ellie fic since i was 15 </3)

+ probably stuttered like crazy when she first met you. just imagine it, her cheeks pink, an uncontrollable smile plastered on her face, and all she could say was "i am ellie" as she stuck her hand out in a poor attempt to shake yours.

+ you had to ask her out. it was during a particularly boring patrol which mainly consisted of you and ellie exploring random abandoned stores. she started rambling about some space book she found until you blurted out "do you wanna go on a date?". safe to say she was speechless (still managed to say yes of course).

+ your first kiss with ellie was so sweet. it was after one of the many movie nights you two had. at this point you were both yawning, almost falling asleep in eachothers arms until you tilted your head up, looking her in the eyes for a moment. she couldn't stop smiling when you finally pressed your lips against hers.

+ you said i love you first. no way in HELL did ellie get the courage to say it first. once you had said it to her she said it back immediately, a wide grin plastered on her face as she tackled you into a hug. now, she says it all the time - especially during the most random moments like after you successfully shoot a clicker.

+ would ramble about her comics to you in great detail every time you came over. it would consistent of her sitting cross legged on the bed, arms flailing, voice getting slightly louder as she explained everything that happened. you'd get confused half way through but do your best to pay attention.

+ if you’re also into comics, space, dinosaurs, or whatever, ellie would love it so much. one of her favourite activities would be talking about one of those topics for hours on end with you. has this sometimes lead to arguments? yes. did you both stop and realise what you were arguing about before bursting into laughter? also yes!

+ ellie has definitely drawn you before. in fact, she probably found a whole new journal so she could dedicate it to drawings of you. one time you came to her place just before she got back from patrol and noticed the journal was open; she was in the middle of writing a poem about you.

+ matching bracelets!!!!!! you found some string and some beads the kids left over from arts and crafts so you snagged them before anyone else could. you spent your evening picking the perfect beads for ellie's bracelet, with the one in the middle being the colour of your eyes. she wears it absolutely EVERYWHERE.

+ if you don't already play, she would try her best to teach you how to play guitar. she's a horrible teacher and you both know this, but it gives you another excuse to hang out and be as close together as possible.

+ she’s the type of person to finish your sentences for you. it get a little annoying sometimes but it’s also really cute so you just put up with it at this point. plus you think it’s sweet that she knows you so well.

+ you and ellie got high together so many times before. but that was usually with dina and jesse. this time, you two were alone, sat on her bed. you knew ellie rambled a lot when she was high. as much as you love hearing her voice, you could not stop thinking about kissing her. so you did. you grabbed her face in your hands, shutting her up with a hard kiss, slowly getting on top of her.

+ despite ellie being a massive loser, she can be pretty protective (and get jealous pretty easily). she'll get jealous over the silliest of things. this one time you were sat beside dina, your arm draped over her shoulder as you talked to one another. jesse, who was sat across from the both of you, had to nudge ellie's shoulder to stop her from glaring staring at you.

+ if you were having a rough day or just felt upset for whatever reason, ellie would feel slightly awkward. she wouldn't really know what to do other than hug you or crack a joke here and there. usually it works and she gets you smiling again within no time.

+ ellie would open up to you about joel. it would mainly be her complaining or talking about “that weird look he gave her before she went on patrol”. at other times, however, when it was just the two of you laying in each others arms late at night, she would tell you about what joel was like before jackson. what joel was like before ellie shut him out.

+ adding on to that, we know that ellie isn't one to talk about her feelings often, or even at all. if you two got into an argument or she was just being really mean to you one day, you probably won't get a verbal explanation. ellie would feel really guilty and write up an apology/explanation letter, slipping it into your mailbox, along with a sketch of you.

bonus modern!au headcanons:

+ ellie would most likely wear glasses. she’s the type of person to game until her eyes are red (me too). joel noticed she was squinting at him during a conversation and forced her to go to the “eye guys” as ellie called them. yeah her eyesight sucks.

+ i know everyone and their mothers say ellie would study physics/anything spacey but what about art student!ellie… we know she’s really talented and clearly enjoys art. i would like to imagine you’d be her muse.

+ (you definitely cracked a “paint me like one of your french girls” joke when she asked to draw you)

+ your first date with ellie would either be at a cafe or a museum. or both. oh and best believe it’s a dinosaur museum (only because you begged her to go to one). overall, it’s cute and filled with big smiles and some really shy hand holding.

+ okay this is really random but i think ellie would LOVE dr pepper. she's basically addicted to it. every study session, you show up with a dr pepper and she thanks you by plastering kisses all over your face.

+ has, and will continue to, steal your lip balms. she never buys her own because she claims they are a "waste of money" and "yours are always better anyway". the taste of your lip balm always reminds her of you when you're gone, it's perfect.

[l4mbh3art]

Water Pressure

Cw: abby x f!reader brief mention of weed and alcohol(reader is a bit tipsy), semi public sex(in a hot tub), established relationship, reader has nipple piercings, thigh riding(a! receiving), biting(a! receiving), fingering, nipple play, nipple worship(r! receiving), abby gets off to getting caught, risky sex, a sprinkle of Dina, Ellie, and Jesse mentioned(they are at a party), pet names(the usual), black coded reader if you squint, not proofread💔

Mdni

Laughter echoed through out the room as the night stretched on, the smell of mixed perfumes and weed flooded your senses. Dina and Jesse had smoked a joint a few minutes ago and they were all over each other. It was cute, sweet even, seeing everyone get along. Ellie playfully gagged at them, Dina then stuck her tongue out before dragging Jesse off to some room. You just giggled at the banter, not really listening to whatever abby was saying next to you.

“Hello?? Are you even listening to me?” She asked, you quickly snapped out of whatever haze you were in, your attention now completely on her. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” She just smiled softly, tucking away a braid from your face. “Nothing im just..thinking I guess?” “About what?” She quipped teasingly, the smile of her face growing as she noticed your words getting caught in your throat. “It’s nothing dirty if that’s what you’re thinking.” You giggled as you walked to the kitchen to pour you another drink, this was your 7th cup and to be honest you don’t even remember drinking that much.

“Like I was saying, can we go to the hot tub now? I’ve been waiting on you.” Abby asked, her arms folded over her stomach as she waited for you to finish mixing your drink. “Weren’t we supposed to wait for Dina and Jesse?” You replied as you closed the bottle to the blueberry syrup. “Yeah but they are obviously too occupied at the moment.” She said as she rolled her eyes. You thought her little attitude was cute, her brows furrowed as she looked at you.

“Alright, but I’m taking this with me.” You said swirling the alcohol in the red solo cup. “Yes, whatever you want, can we go now?” She said in a rushed tone and you just giggled as you took her hand, opening Dina sliding glass door to the back yard.

“This is what you’re so excited about?” You referred to the hot tub that seemed to still be covered. “We’re supposed to turn it on, be nice.” The last part came out more stern than Abby expected but nonetheless it still shut you up. “We aren’t even supposed to be out here!” You scream-whispered as Abby turned on the hot tub, taking of the cover and setting the lights to purple.

“You’ll be fine.” She said as she removed her lose graphic shirt, the same one you gifted her for Christmas; revealing her black sports bra. She slipped off her pants, wearing a matching pair of swim trunks. You were basically drooling at the sight of her, the way her biceps flexed as she took off her shirt, it was all too much.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes or am I gonna have to do it for you?” Abby asked as she looked at your dazed expression, mind completely wondering places it shouldn’t. Her words snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to shimmy out of your jeans to reveal the pink and white frilly swim skirt that barely covered your ass.

You pulled your shirt over your head, a matching bikini top underneath. “Did you wear that for me or Dina to see?” Abby joked, you just rolled your eyes at her antics before getting into the hot tub. “Would you be jealous if I did for Dina?” You smirked teasingly, the question hanging in the air. You settled yourself in front of her, taking the spot behind you to sit. “Hell yeah, you look good as fuck in it.” She said, her voice dropping at the last part of her sentence. “Now, are you going to answer the question or are we going to keep playing games?” You smiled at her before moving closer to her in the water, situating yourself on her lap. Your fingers creeped up Abby’s shoulder, feeling the pulse underneath her skin. “Do you wanna find out?

The kiss after that is hungry, all teeth and saliva. She swallowed your moans as they fell from your lips, your scalp began to burn due to her grip on your hair. “Please,” you gasped inbetween kisses, the heat in your core burned as you rode Abby’s lap. Her lips began to trail down your neck, kissing and nipping at the sweet flesh. “Please what?” She spoke into your skin, relishing at the noises that were leaving your lips.

“Need you,” you moaned out as her hand found purchase on your breast, squeezing your nipple through your bikini top. Her mouth peppers kisses back to your mouth, effectively shutting you up. “You gotta be quiet pretty girl, do you want Dina to know what we’re doing in her hot tub?” She coos and chuckles as you shook your head. Her lips crashed into yours once more, her hands finding the back of bikini and untying it. Abby’s eyes soaked in the sight infront of her, your pretty nipples on display, she chuckled at the jewelry that decorated them. “When were you gonna tell me?” She asked before her tongue swirled around one of them, causing your back to arch into her touch.

“Mm-fuck I meant to when I first got them but I-“ your words are cut off by her taking your nipple in her mouth, teeth gently playing with the jewelry. The sensitivity of them causing your grip on her shoulders to tighten. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” She groans into your nipple, her free hand pinching your left one. “Abs please..” you whined as you rode her thigh faster, feeling the heat build up in your stomach. “Doll are you close?” She asked as she turned her attention to your other nipple, repeating the same process.

You nodded as you felt the stickiness in your bikini, the fabric rubbing against you deliciously. Your head dizzied as Abby used her free hand to grip your waist, helping you grind in her. “Fuck abs I’m gonna cum-“ you gasped, rolling your hips faster as you felt yourself tip over the edge. “Oh yeah? Cum for me baby.” Your head dipped into Abby’s shoulder, biting down on it as you came as an attempt to muffle your noises.

You slumped against her as the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, alcohol still buzzing in your veins making your head dizzy. You snap back to reality when you feel Abby’s hand trace over your clothed clit. “Abby..” you groaned “we’re gonna get caught-“ you gasped as her fingers dipped into your bathing suit bottom. “No one’s came looking for us yet, let me make you feel good. Please?” The needy look in her blue eyes were enough to make you cum on the spot, you gave her a slight nod before she pulled your bikini to the side. Her fingers ghosted over your clit, gently rubbing it. Your hips toward, needing more friction. You whined into her neck, becoming more needy from her teasing touches.

“I know baby, let me take care of you.” She cooed as she placed you on the ledge of the hot tub to get a better view of your pussy. She nudged your thighs further apart, drinking in the sight of you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.” She said as one of her fingers sunk into your entrance, her think finger stretching you out. “Fuckkk right there-“ you gasped out as she slipped in another finger, abusing your sweet spot. You looked towards the sliding glass door, eyes scanning to see if anyone was searching for you guys. Abby’s free hand tapped your thigh, drawing your attention back the her fingers deep in your cunt. “Look at me or I’ll stop.” She said sternly, slapping your cunt gently. Your hips jutted, another moan slipping from your lips.

Her pace quickened, causing your legs to snap shut, your poor gummy walls were not used to all this special attention. “Don’t run from it, taking me so well aren’t you?” She whispered, her strong arm prying your legs open. “Abs it’s too much!” You whined as you felt her fingers kiss your g-spot over and over, looking down at her lustful blue eyes. “Awe but you can take it right?” She said under false pity, her eyes dropped to her fingers plunging into your clit.

“Fuck you’re sucking me in, you close pretty girl?” You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off by a moan, your orgasm crashing into you unexpectedly. You watched your cunt paint Abby’s arm with your juices, panting as she removed her fingers from you to put them in her mouth. “Fuck Abby,” you said breathlessly, attempting to ground yourself. “Come here.” She said as she settled back into the water, beckoning you to sit in her lap again. You do as your told, fixing your top before situating yourself in the water again. Your rested your head on her chest, your braids falling over your face as you relaxed.

“Maybe we should fuck in your best friend’s hot tub more often.” Abby joked. “Shut up!” You chuckled as you playfully punched her.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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[seattlesellie]

Jealous. 🎀

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.

an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3

something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?

Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;

“Did so good for me, babe”

“I love you, so much”

“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.

And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.

It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.

Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.

The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”

It’s fucking exhilarating.

She loves it every time, she does it every time.

But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.

There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.

And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.

But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,

For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.

You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.

"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.

For Ellie, it meant everything.

Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."

But you're so damn intuitive.

"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.

"Exhausted"

You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.

"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"

She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"

Her voice mocks your own a little.

You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.

"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.

But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?

"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.

You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.

You don't fuck with what's hers.

She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.

"Take off your skirt"

Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.

"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.

She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.

"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.

And it simply pushes you over the edge.

You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.

But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.

Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.

She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.

"M'cold" you whine.

She scoffs.

She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"

Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?

She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.

But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.

It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,

She can't help it.

Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.

She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?" She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.

Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.

Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.

You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.

"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.

Ellie, not Michael.

She smiles, greedy, triumphant.

She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.

You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.

You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.

"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"

With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.

You don't respond.

A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.

"You're not listening" Ellie warns.

"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.

"M'close" you brokenly wail.

She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.

"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum. "N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"

[glitzglamgunpowder-if]

"You were destined for a life better than this. A life free from violence, from bloodshed. But here you are once again, it's like you never left."

YOU were a child destined for greatness, for your name to be written into the pages of history. Whatever happened in your past didn't matter anymore. You were born with raw talent and charisma that couldn't be wasted, that people can only dream of. But your innate gift didn't mean your path would be easy. After the circus shut down, you stumbled through life delivering each performance like it was your last. You thought you've reached your peak, until a mysterious offer suddenly throws you into a life of crime.

Content Warnings [Will Be Updated]: Heavy Extremist Religious Themes, Depictions of Trauma, Poor Mental Health, and Violence/Criminal Activity

Play as a male, female, or nonbinary performer

Customize your MC’s physical appearance, façade personality, and choose a pseudonym for them

Befriend or Romance 4 ROs

Dedicate yourself to honing your natural talent

Choose your end goal and earn the fame you have craved your entire life

How do you want the public to perceive you? To be respected, or to be feared?

Learn more about the secrets of your dark past. Will you learn how the circus fell? How you ended up here of all places?

Will you acquire the fame you deserve, or will you fade into history?

Outline of Stats/Routes!!

Alistair/Alice Delacroix - THE RIVAL

AS you adjust to your new life, you hear rumors about your fated rival. One whose mind was poisoned to despise every fiber of your being. It's no surprise they're known for their ambition, their cunning, their ruthless nature. Their path led them to inevitable darkness, but will yours?

Trope: Forbidden Romance/Enemies to Lovers

Samuel/Samantha "Sam" Kaminski - THE BOSS

YOU are an acquired talent on behalf of the current wealthy owner of the elusive Spotlight Syndicate, one of the most popular bars of its time. They're one of the few people who don't question your mysterious past, who trust you as implicitly as the air they breathe. You know deep down they have a soft spot for you, one of their greatest assets, but they're motives are...difficult to discern. But is there a possibility your relationship could go beyond transactional business?

Trope: Boss x Employee/Age Gap

Hendrik/Helena Rietveld - THE BODYGUARD

YOU don't know much about them, nor do they seem willing to give you any more information than necessary for your safety. But one thing's for sure, they're loyal to the ones they serve. And given your new...circumstances, that may be exactly what you need: someone who would travel from heaven to hell and back if their duty called for it. Will you be the first to crack the unsolvable's code?

Trope: Bodyguard Romance/Potential Grumpy x Sunshine

Jesse Lê - THE FRIEND DETECTIVE

YOU never expected to see them again after...never mind that! They stand before you now, a completely reinvented version of themself. A stranger to everyone they encounter. Will you be able to slip off the carefully curated mask they've built and heal from your past together? Or will that smoking gun be laid to rest once and for all?

Trope: Childhood Friends to Lovers -> Detective x Potential Criminal

Physical Description of the ROs!!

Despite being a frequent IF player, this is my very first time trying to create an IF myself as someone with little coding experience (I'm more of a writer if anything). I'm definitely learning as I go, and I understand this may lead to mistakes or disappointment at times, so I preemptively apologize for them. I tend to become overly ambitious, and I want to make sure I always deliver on the promises I make. I say this because some of you may have ask about certain features being implemented and I will have to say "Sorry, I don't really know how to do that yet, but I'll try and learn how!" Hopefully, this will be a fun learning experience, and you all have a fun time on here! Sincerely, Mira <3

DEMO || BETA TESTER FORM || PLAYLIST || BLUESKY

[bejeweledinterludes]

❝ aw, crap. ❞

❝ i’m a painted whore. ❞

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x fem makeup ! wearing reader

「 summary 」 : after a near-death experience on a hunt, you stop wearing your usual everyday makeup, not thinking too much of it. but when you meet up with the winchester brothers for a hunt, dean notices. a lot.

「 word count 」 : 1.7 k

「 warnings 」 : swearing, suggestive content, dean n reader being idiots, sam being a godsend (as always)

tags (based off of this post): @blossomingorchids @illicithallways @k-pevensie28 @sunsbaby @theeyesofasoldier @alediao @cowboysandcigarettes

also PLEASE tell me you guys get the title ?! it’s from the spn episode “the french mistake” (s6 , ep15) when dean says he’s a ‘painted whore’ bc he had makeup on hehe anyways enjoy pookies !!!

𖤐 ────────────────────────

as you got older, you started to like makeup less and less. and it wasn’t because you were even bad at it— but over time, it just… got in the way.

especially on hunts. whether you completely sweated off your eyeshadow or left smears of foundation all over the collars of your fed threads, it was becoming more and more of a chore than one of your favorite things to do.

and the worst part was, you almost died from it. 

it had been a simple solo rugaru hunt that you were on about a few months ago in the summertime down in the middle of arizona. so it was hot. and you sweated. a lot. so much so that your mascara started to run and burn in your eyes, making you temporarily impaired— which resulted in almost being that rugaru’s dinner.

after that, you swore off makeup completely. a little concealer and the waterproof mascara that your friend swore was “sob-proof” was the farthest you’d go on a good day— saving a full face only for special occasions, being undercover, or not when you were deep in the thick of it somewhere in the american wilderness.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

you got a call from the winchester brothers in minnesota a few days ago. you’d been finishing up a wendigo hunt in the next state over when sam called you, asking if you had a minute.

and you always had a minute for the winchesters.

you were already heading their way by the time you hung up the phone, meeting up with them outside the sheriff’s office in your fed threads to get info on the people who had gone missing in the past week under strange circumstances.

sam clapped you on the back in greeting— dean too, at usual. but they both were internally recognizing the fact that you looked a little… different.

but not a bad different.

no, it was almost like you looked… younger or something. which was weird, because you didn’t trust witches or fairies just as much as they did— so a youth potion or some sort of spell was out of the question. 

sam, being sam, immediately recognized without any help that it was because you were wearing less makeup. even now, years and years later, he still remembered the first time he saw jess without makeup on (like he’d ever forget), and remembered how bashful she’d been because of it. with that, sam knew makeup was almost like protection for the wearer.

so he made a point of not saying anything about it to you— because despite popular belief, he wasn’t just book smart.

and when the two brothers trailed behind you inside the sheriff’s station, he quickly shut down dean’s questioning look and mutter of “why the hell does she look so sexy different?” with a swift “don’t you say anything.” to his older brother— to which, dean pouted, left to put the pieces together himself. 

and dean couldn't figure out why he was so infatuated with you all of a sudden.

well, actually, dean did know, but he didn’t want to actually admit it.

because that would mean changing things.

and as much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t allow things to change between you and him. no, he couldn’t. you were one of the only good things— good friends in his life, and he’d be damned if he was going to ruin yet another thing because he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut over some stupid crush.

but something about you was different, he knew it. and over the days on the hunt with the guys, when you all were doing research or talking to people to get info, dean would find himself just… staring at you.

hard.

because now, dean could see clear as day that tinge of pink seep into your cheeks whenever you laughed too hard at something, or got embarrassed— and not to mention the way your eyes still seemed to just light up, even without the usual help of your glittery highlighter that always doubled as your eyeshadow.

he was losing his mind.

you honestly didn’t even really notice it at first. but then again, you didn’t notice a lot of things when it came to dean and you.

he thought he was being obvious with this annoying ass crush for years now— so did sam.

well, he thought, maybe you did notice; you just chose not to mention it for fear of making things awkward.

but in reality, it was because you also had a raging crush on dean. and because of the worry that you were really just imagining all the times you caught dean looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

the whole ‘not-noticing’ thing sounds a whole lot better out loud, though.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

which brings you up to right now— sitting with the brothers in some mom-and-pop burger joint after spending the morning talking to the families of the people who had gone missing. it seemed weird to be eating lunch while people were disappearing left and right.

but something pulls you out of your thoughts. you could literally feel eyes on you. you glanced around the hazy sun-lit diner, trying to find the culprit— until you snapped your head to dean sitting directly next to you in the booth, who quickly averted his green eyes back to his plate.

but not quick enough. because you actually, truly, caught him this time.

despite the win, you’re internally freaking out (because jesus, did you really look that bad without makeup on?), but you follow dean’s suit, looking back down at your own food and popping a fry in your mouth smoothly. you were always good at that— keeping a poker face even when you were less than the epitome of calm.

“you wanna take a picture or somethin’?” you inquire cooly between chews— and silently wishing you’d at least put on concealer today.

dean’s eyes immediately flick back up to your side profile— and sam looks up from his salad across from you and dean.

“w—” dean half-smirked nervously with a short chuckle, looking between you, his plate, and sam like he hadn’t just been ogling you mere seconds ago before looking back down at his plate again. “no. it’s just that—”

dean’s words were cut off by a swift kick to his leg under the table from none other than his own brother— shooting a warning glance at dean before he could finish.

son of a bitch— dean shot a glare at his brother right back, glancing back over at you and muttering “‘s nothin’.” and shaking his head before going back to his food.

“y—” your eyes flicked between the two brothers. that stupid silent communication thing they always did wasn’t lost on you for a second. “w— it’s obviously something. jus’ tell me what’s goin’ on, guys.”

dean glanced back up at you— a huge mistake, because he was taken aback by your more concern rather than anger towards him for staring. classic you. never, ever angry at him, even when he knew he damn well deserved it. that was only one of the many reasons why he lov— liked you.

dean then glanced from you to his little brother, possibly for some sort of saving grace, but he was only met with a warning expression from sam, mixed with something else— that familiar look they gave each other all the time that screamed “you opened your mouth, jerk, so you fix it. and if you fuck this up, i’ll kill you dead”.

great.

dean made the next terrible decision of looking back to you— and god, you were looking right back at him. with those gorgeous eyes, only mixed with mild curiosity and concern. your gaze held no malice, eyebrows slightly scrunched together with that look you always had when you were trying to figure him out. 

oh, you could figure him out, alright. with you under or on top of him. naw, he didn’t care, just as long as it was both of you moving and skin-to-skin, with those pretty lips gasping for air and moaning his name over, and over, and over—

“somethin’s different.” dean blurts out, internally kicking himself just as sam had done earlier to shake the filthy images that had seeped into his mind.

“different,” a sharp pang of nervousnes but mostly that same curiosity spreads across your senses— you tilt your head a little at dean, brows furrowing just a little more, repeating the word flatly. “different how?”

“i—” the words get caught in dean’s throat, and he hesitates. “well, y’know, it’s, uh… i mean, you look—”

“better,” sam finally interjects with the truth, sick of dean tripping over simple goddamn words. he leans into the table a little to get your attention before slumping back in the booth, rolling his eyes slightly at his brother before looking at you with that soft look he always seemed to have, nodding. “you look better. that’s all. did ya do something different?”

oh. oh.

you look back to dean next to you— the way he was pointedly not looking at you at all anymore was enough to confirm what sam was saying. 

“w—” it was your turn to be momentarily speechless, taken aback by sam’s words— and pink appeared on your cheeks, full-throttle before you leaned back against the vinyl, gathering yourself.

you then sheepishly explained what had happened with the rugaru, which ultimately led to your decision to abandon putting on a full beat for ganking monsters. you continued on, saying it was less stuff to pack, and now you could sleep in as much as sam and dean did— besides, it’s not like it even mattered to them anyway.

right?

sam nodded and agreed understandingly— as he always does.

dean just hummed in response, completely and grossly interested in his food again— as he always was.

you nodded too, giving the brothers one last look before delving into a theory you had on the case to sam. and you really thought that was it. 

or so you believed. 

but the truth was, dean could not be any happier with your decision to ditch makeup for the time being. 

because dean was starting to realize that he really liked you without it on.

───────────────────────── 𖤐

[cinnasite]

no (guitar) strings attached?

꩜ pairing: band!au ellie williams x female reader

꩜ warnings:  explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 2.3k

꩜ synopsis: you and ellie have never gotten along. from your bands’ rivalry to years of snark and insults, you’ve always clashed. but when you join ellie’s band as the new bassist after your own group dissolves, the tension only intensifies. the unspoken history between you simmers beneath the surface, leading to an explosive confrontation that leaves you both reeling.

You're the first one to the garage again.

The familiar scent of sweat and guitar polish hangs in the air—something lived-in and loud. You let your bass case slide off your shoulder, landing with a satisfying thunk onto the worn rug as you stretch your fingers. You soak in the tranquility, feeling exhaustion seep into your bones. The quiet makes the space feel heavier somehow. Even heavier when the door creaks open and Ellie steps inside, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees you. The relaxation you savoured five seconds ago disappears.

She blinks. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Nice to see you too, Williams," you sigh, not bothering to look up.

Ellie exhales sharply, kicking the door shut behind her with excessive force. "You're early."

"So are you."

You finally lift your gaze. She's wearing a ratty band tee with the sleeves hacked off, her guitar slung across her back, hair slightly damp like she sprinted here. You wonder if she hoped to arrive first to avoid you. Too bad.

She's still staring like you're a mistake nobody had the courage to erase.

The day you joined the band hadn't exactly gone smoothly. Dina and Jesse had kept it quiet—intentionally so. You weren't stupid. They knew Ellie wouldn't agree if they told her beforehand.

"You’re a damn good bassist," Dina had said, cornering you outside some café with a latte and a promise. "And we coincidentally need one. Seth left."

You'd hesitated. "You know Ellie and I—"

"Exactly," Jesse had cut in. "You push each other. If you ask me, that kind of fire is good on stage."

Ellie hadn't seen it that way. At the first practice, she'd nearly walked out. Called you "the devil in a leather jacket." You'd smiled sweetly and asked if she was scared of being replaced. Now here you are. Three months deep with no peace treaty in sight. Just eye-rolls, verbal jabs, and that spark that neither of you are brave enough to name.

Ellie picks through her pedalboard like it personally offended her. You sit on the amp, methodically unpacking your bass. "They running late?" 

She doesn't answer. You pluck a few strings to fill the awkward gaps, testing the tuning.

"You know," you say after a moment, not looking at her, "if you hate me being here that much, you could just, I don’t know, kick me out."

Ellie murmurs a profanity, bitter. "Would if I could, smartass."

"But?"

She hesitates, as if it physically pains her to utter her following choice of words. "But you're good." 

You look at her then. Really look. She's flushed—not just from the heat, you contemplate in surprise. From you.

"That sounded like a compliment."

"Don't get used to it."

You smirk, rolling your shoulders. "Are you always this grumpy before practice? Or just with girls who play better than you?"

Her eyes snap up, previous amiability gone. "You don't play better than me."

"Oh, honey," you hum, cocking your head. "Don’t take it personally.”

Except it is. Everything between you two always has been. Ever since your old band and hers used to go toe-to-toe at dive bars and basement gigs, swapping setlists like insults. You remember those nights like bruises you never stopped purposefully pressing—seeing her across the crowd, guitar slung low, lips curled in disdain.

Don’t get it twisted, you never kissed.

But once, after a show... you almost did. You'd both been tipsy, sweaty, vibrating with stage adrenaline. She'd cornered you outside, said something about your stage presence being "obnoxious as hell," and you'd called her a "prick with less-than-average solos." She'd looked at your mouth. You'd leaned in.

Then her ride showed up and the tension collapsed as quickly as it had built. Here in the garage, the ghost of that moment bleeds between you like an open wound.

"Why are you really here?" Ellie asks suddenly, standing.

You shrug nonchalantly. "We've been through this. You lost your bassist, my lead singer bailed on the band life, and now I play with you. Congrats on winning the lottery, by the way."

She steps closer, deliberate and slow. "Bullshit. You could've joined anyone. So why us?"

Your throat tightens at the implication. Because you were aware of what she was hinting at. Because it was her band.

Some masochistic part of you wanted this. Wanted to be near her, to see if the hate could burn hot enough to transmute into something else. Instead you say, "I like pissing you off."

Ellie huffs a dry laugh, then stops just inches from you.

"You're insufferable," she mutters. "Loud. Arrogant. Needy."

You tilt your head. "And you're a control freak with commitment issues."

Her jaw tightens. "God, I can't stand you."

Your smile is all teeth. "Then stop thinking about me when you touch yourself at night, Williams."

The taunt hangs between you for one electrically charged second before something in Ellie's mind shatters.

"You fucking—" She doesn't finish. She's across the room in two strides, shoving you against the wall so hard the amp slides with a screech against concrete. Her face is inches from yours, breath coming fast and ragged.

"You don't know a goddamn thing about me," she hisses, voice dropping to something dangerous.

"I know enough," you challenge, refusing to back down even as your heart hammers against your ribs. "I know you've been watching me since the first time we shared a stage. I know you write songs about the things you hate because it's easier than admitting what you want."

"Shut up." Her grip grows maddeningly dangerous.

"Make me."

The dare feels akin to a lit match over gasoline.

"You think everything's a game," she says, voice cracking slightly. "You walk in here, take over my band, my space—"

"It was never about the band," you cut in, reaching up to grab her wrist, not to push her away but to hold her there. "It was always about this."

Something flashes across her face—anger, fear, want—all of it jumbled together.

"This?" she echoes, barely audible above the blood rushing in your ears.

"Us," you breathe. "Whatever the fuck this is."

Ellie's mouth crashes into yours without warning—hungry, possessive, all spit and teeth and months of tension finally exploding between you. There's nothing gentle in it; she kisses like she's trying to devour, punish, and claim you at once. You gasp into her mouth then kiss her back harder, fingers twisting in her hair, pulling just enough to make her growl against your lips.

Her thigh wedges between yours, pressure immediate and sharp. You rock against her instinctively, a whimper escaping before you can swallow it back.

"You're such a fucking brat," she rasps into your skin, one hand abandoning your shoulder to grip your waist like she's trying to trap you, the other sliding up to grasp your jaw. Her fingers press into your cheek, forcing you to look at her.

"You've been dying to fuck this brat since '23," you spit back, yanking her hair hard enough to make her hiss, satisfaction coursing through you when her eyes flutter briefly closed. "Admit it."

She laughs darkly, pressing her thigh harder between your legs, "You wish."

"You think I didn't notice?" You grab her hips, pulling her closer, refusing to be the only one coming undone. "The stares? The songs you covered just to get my attention? The way you'd always find a reason to be where I was?"

Her teeth graze your neck, biting down with the intention of leaving a mark. "You’re so self-absorbed. You make everything about you."

"You're the one pinning me to a wall, baby," you chuckle sinfully as her hand slips under your shirt, nails dragging across your ribs.

"What did you expect?" she groans against your ear. "Coming in here, playing like that, looking at me like you've been looking at me for years—" Her voice breaks off when your hand slides between your bodies, pressing against the front of her jeans. "You're such a mouthy little—"

"If you're so fucking tired of hearing me talk," you challenge, "do something about it."

Her touch, encouraged, sneaks through your underwear, fingers rough and confident. You moan, bucking into the pleasure.

"Thought so," she mutters. "You act tough, but you're soaking. Bet you've been wet since I walked in."

You grab her forearm, pressing her harder against you. "You're all bark and no bite, Williams."

No sooner than you say that, she quite literally does bite you.

It's messy. Desperate. You end up tangled against the wall, shirts half-off, fingers under waistbands, sweat slicking your skin. She talks you through it—filthy and relentless. "This what you needed?" Ellie murmurs against your neck, her fingers working inside you with precise, devastating strokes. "Me putting you in your place?"

Your head falls back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm builds relentlessly at the base of your spine. "Shit, h-harder," you gasp, roughly fisting her hair.

She obliges immediately, increasing the pace and pressure while her thumb circles exactly where you need it. Her mouth is hot on your throat, sucking on your sensitive skin.

"Look at me," she demands, her free hand tugging your hair just hard enough to make you open your eyes. "I want to see you fall apart."

You struggle to keep your eyes open, to maintain that last shred of control even as everything inside you winds tighter and tighter. The intensity of her gaze nearly undoes you—those green eyes dark with desire, pupils blown wide, watching you with such focused ravenousness it steals your breath.

"Still think you're in charge, princess?" she pants into your ear, curling her fingers inside you in a way that makes your entire body arch against hers. You try to answer but can only manage a loud, broken moan as the tension coils impossibly tight. Your hips move frantically against her hand, chasing release.

"That's it," she encourages, voice rough with lust. "Come for me. Now."

Whether it's the command or the way her canines sink into the sensitive juncture of your neck and shoulder, something snaps. Your climax crashes through you in overwhelming waves, body shuddering violently against hers as you cry out her name. Your vision blurs at the edges as she works you through it, drawing out each pulse of pleasure until you're trembling uncontrollably in her arms.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous like this," she whispers, almost reverent, as the aftershocks ripple through you.

When it's over, you're boneless, pinned between the wall and her body. Your chest rises and falls against hers in perfect unison, both of you panting as though you've run for miles.

You laugh weakly. "So... you do think about me."

Ellie leans back just enough to smirk, lips swollen. "You’re impossible to ignore."

Before you can retort, the garage door groans open.

Dina's voice cuts through the haze. "Sorry, sorry, traffic was a bitch. I hope y’all didn’t kill each—oh. Oh."

You scramble to fix your shirt, suddenly conscious of your disheveled appearance. Ellie doesn't move. Just raises an eyebrow like she couldn't care less, though you notice her subtly adjusting her collar to hide the marks you've left.

Dina stands frozen in the doorway, eyes darting between you two, taking in the scene—your flushed faces, bitten lips, the amp knocked askew. A knowing grin spreads across her face.

"I knew it," she says, not even trying to hide her satisfaction.

You scoff, embarrassed, still catching your breath. "Knew what?"

"Don't play dumb," she says, backing toward the door. "Jesse owes me twenty bucks." She points accusingly at Ellie. "And you—you could've just admitted you had a thing for her instead of being a pain in everyone's ass for three months."

Ellie's expression hardens. "I don't have a 'thing.'"

You feel something cold settle in your stomach at her words, even though you'd expected exactly this response. Dina rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say. I'll tell Jesse we need another hour before practice." She backs out, adding, "Use protection!" before slamming the door shut.

Silence returns, more dense than before.

Ellie's still staring at you, but her smirk has faded, replaced by something guarded and uncertain. You hate that look—it's too close to vulnerability, too risky for whatever this is between you.

"Anyway," you say, reaching for your familiar armour of sarcasm, "I guess we found a new way to resolve creative differences."

She doesn't laugh. Instead, she takes a step back, running a hand through her tangled hair. "This complicates things."

"Only if you let it."

Her eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You shrug, fighting to keep your face neutral despite the tightness in your chest. "It means we can fuck and still hate each other. No big deal."

Something flickers across her face—disappointment? Relief? You can't tell.

"Is that what you want?" she asks, uncharacteristically quiet.

It's not a question you expected, not from her. Not when you both excel at pretending not to care. "What I want," you say carefully, "is to play in a band that doesn't implode. What I want is to not get kicked out because we couldn't keep it in our pants."

Ellie nods slowly, considering. "Right, this was..."

"A one-time thing," you finish, even as something protests inside you. "If that's what you want."

She studies you for a long moment, beautiful eyes searching yours. Then she does something out of the blue—she reaches out and touches your hand. Not grabbing. Not demanding. Just her fingertips grazing your knuckles, light as a question.

"And if it's not?" she asks, the challenge in her voice softened by something foreign but not unwelcome.

You look down at her hand, then back to her face. Her signature smirk is nowhere to be found. Only Ellie, waiting for your answer.

You turn your palm up, letting her fingers slide between yours. "Then I guess we figure it out," you say simply. "Day by day."

For once, she doesn't pull away. She simply stands there with your hands interlocked, a truce as fragile and unanticipated as the solitude between songs.

Neither of you knows what comes next. But for now, this—this tentative connection, this moment of honest touch—is enough.

[tommysversion]

Stick To Me (Like Caramel): Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: set in the same universe as Forbidden Fruit. You don't need to read that first for this to make sense. Joel has his girl, his kids, and a life. Meanwhile, Tommy seems to be losing everything of late. After the abrupt end of his marriage, he goes in search of comfort to drown his feelings. And after years of ignoring the tension between you? That seems like a good place to start.

Content/Warnings: Past thoughts of adultery | implied age gap (not specified, can be as large or small as you'd like, but I pictured reader in her early 30s) | unsafe & unprotected PIV sex | oral sex (f!receiving) | dirty talk (Tommy has a filthy mouth) | slight daddy kink (1x usage) | implied breeding kink | slightly dark!Tommy if you squint | Reader has no description physically aside from being female bodied, feminine pronouns & body terms are used |

18+ Only || MDNI || KO-FI Link || Word Count: 2.6k

- x. -

He thinks something in him must be broken. That, or he no longer has to pretend to be something he isn't, put all that effort into pretending he and Joel aren't cut from the same damn cloth.

"You're just too much like your damn brother. Only better at pretending you're a good man."

That's what Maria had told him, before she'd tried to soften the blow by telling him he'd still see his son.

Well what the fuck was he supposed to do? Shut his brother out? He'd already been separated from Joel once before, when he'd first come to Jackson.

Then he'd almost lost him completely thanks to a total stranger with a poorly planned vendetta. God. He was never going to be more glad that Ellie and Jesse were faster with weapons than that bitch and her accomplices.

It had been touch and go for a while there, but Joel was back on his feet now. Had Ellie and Dina and Jesse and some sweet thing who usually works in the stables or the clinic. Younger, but devoted to him.

And hell, Tommy would never begrudge his brother a damn second of it. Not the kids, not the peace, not the girl. Because he knows exactly what his brother has survived, what it almost cost him.

It definitely helps push him into going after what he wants himself, though. Starting with you.

Tommy knows you're sweet on him. Knows too damn well that for the duration of his marriage he's kept his eyes and his thoughts to himself... for the most part. If he's ever, hypothetically, thought about you, and what you may sound like, taste like, feel like? Well. They're just thoughts.

Only, now, they don't have to be.

The man he was trying to be, the good one, who forgets he used to murder and steal and threaten to survive, he'd probably have words for him about crossing town - freshly reinforced, still rebuilding, a long fucking process in itself - to visit a woman far too young for him.

The man he is, though? That man tosses a friendly wave to Jesse as he passes Joel's house, sees the younger man about to go inside. Figures it must be one of those nights where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, Joel and his girl all pile into his living room for a movie.

He remembers when Joel thought he'd never get another movie night with Ellie again. Let alone Ellie, her girl, their best friend, and a woman of his own.

It puts a smile on his face as he carries on up the street til he reaches your house. He knows he had that family thing going for him, but also understands why, he thinks, Maria decided maybe he wasn't the good guy he was trying to be.

So here he is. Months later, sans wedding ring, knocking on your front door.

You take a minute to open it, dressed warmly because Jackson has a habit of always being so goddamn cold, looking relaxed in jeans and a sweater.

"Tommy." You say, like you're surprised to see him, but also like he's your favourite person in the goddamn world.

You don't use that tone with just anyone. He's observant enough to note that. Still, he gets the sense that he's a welcome sight, which he appreciates.

"Hey, sweetheart. Can I come in?"

He suddenly feels awkward. Just a little. A rush of concern that maybe he's been misreading you this entire time, that every soft glance, every little smile, every time you've served him at the bar and been just that little bit warmer than you are with most...

His thoughts are interrupted by another bright smile, by you stepping aside to let him into your home. Your house is the smallest on the street, only one single floor. You've never complained.

The entire house smells like something has been baking, he notes, as he steps around you and closes the door behind him. Cinnamon, he thinks as he follows you through into your small living room. It's cosy, a few books here and there, a record player.

One large archway opens up into the kitchen, a small hallway leading off to the guest room and bathroom. He remembers the layout from when he repaired your hot water system a few years back. Then there's the door to your room, ajar. He catches a glimpse of messy blankets before he turns his entire attention to you.

"Tommy? Are you okay?" You look up at him, your eyes focused on him; you're no medic, no doctor, but you're looking him over like you're afraid he's hurt and you want to fix him.

He doesn't think he's really able to be fixed anymore.

"Yeah." He says, then again with a little more conviction. He likes the way you're looking at him, the way your lips part slightly as you try to figure him out.

Later, he'll pinpoint this as the moment any remaining reservations vanished, but he won't be able to specifically tell anyone why.

Giving it no more thought, he closes the two steps between you, pulls you against his broad chest, leans down and crushes his lips to yours.

You make a little surprised sound but you don't stop him; instead you lean into him, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. There's a small part of you that registers that this is probably wrong, he's barely separated from Maria, but god, you're so tired of waiting and wanting from a distance.

All he needs is that little sign that you want this too, then he's lifting you up into his arms, carrying you the short distance into your room.

He sets you down, tugging at your sweater just as insistantly as you pull at the red plaid shirt he's wearing, the worn tee beneath it. A low groan rumbles in his chest as you run your hands up his bare chest; he's not all solid muscle anymore, let himself get a little soft in the middle over time, but you don't care, touch him reverently regardless.

"Fuck, honey..."

He gets your sweater off, your bra, drags you into another kiss before you work on the bottom layers; your jeans and soaked panties hit the floor next, then you're pulling away from him, sprawling yourself out on your bed for him, touching yourself, spreading your own slick as he groans again.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he undoes his belt, pauses just a moment to watch you run your hands up your body, play with your own tits, fully aware of his gaze and the way he's transfixed by you.

He tugs his jeans down, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he sees the way your eyes widen, watching his cock as it springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach.

Then he's crawling onto the bed, spreading your thighs wide for him. You whimper and he grins, tugs you closer to him.

"'s it, baby, c'mere," his voice is low and thick with lust as he buries his face between your thighs, groaning the moment your slick touches his tongue. He's dreamed about this, wondered how you taste for years, even though it's been so wrong up until recently.

The part of him that's a good man still feels shameful for it, but the rest of him takes precedence, doesn't give a fuck whether he's wanted this for longer than he should have, when he was still a good married man.

His tongue circles your clit, dips into your soaked pussy, drinking down your slick and shaking his head from side to side until his beard is soaked with you, your thighs tight against his head and shaking.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart, taste so good-" he presses a soft kiss to your clit, sucks it into his mouth again, drawing another strangled moan from your lips. "Could fuckin' drown in this pussy and be a happy man."

His cock throbs against the sheets, pre cum dripping from the fat, weeping tip of him as he sits up, wipes his chin with the back of his hand, sits back for a moment and just admires the mess he's made of you.

"Need you-" you manage to almost whimper, reaching for him. He laughs quietly as he leans down again, cages you in beneath him.

"Need me, huh? Reckon you've been needin' me for a while, huh, sweetheart?" He drags his fingers through your slick, teasing you as his lips trail kisses down your throat, nuzzle into your collarbone.

He's slow and precise and it's damn near killing him to take his time.

"Y-yeah," you admit breathlessly, tilting your head so he can kiss at your shoulders again, liking the intimacy of it.

"Yeah? Even when you couldn't have me? You been lyin' in this bed every night thinkin' of me?" He kisses your sternum, nuzzles between your breasts with a low hum as he waits for your answer.

You make a little noise of assent and he laughs, a low rumble in his chest as he slips a hand up your curves, finds a hardened nipple and plays with it, rolling it between his fingers tauntingly.

"Bet you have. Probably had no idea how much I wanted to fuck you into this bed, huh?" He leans down and bites your nipple, drawing a little squeak from you, and he laughs. "Guess that patience is about t' pay off."

His tongue laves over the bite mark as he shifts, keeps himself propped up with one hand while the other wraps around his cock, throbbing and aching in his hand. Lightly, he slaps it against your clit, a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan forming when you moan for him.

"Tha's it, baby, fuck, c'mere, come to daddy-"

He groans as he feeds you his cock, inch by inch into your tight heat; you're so warm and wet for him, your cunt trying to pull him in deeper. It's almost a relief when his hips are flush against yours, his cock snugly sheathed inside you.

"Fuck, 's so big-" you gasp out, your fingers moving to cling onto his arms, desperate for something to hold onto as you breathe, feel him stretching you open.

"Deep breaths, now, sweetheart, c'mon-" he soothes you, nuzzles his face into your neck and presses open mouthed kisses to sensitive skin until you feel less pressure, less discomfort, just wonderfully, blissfully full of him. He feels the change, feels you relax, and then he starts to move, snapping his hips into yours, hard and fast.

You don't hold back for him, your moans loud and filthy and he loves it, loves the way you claw at his back, drag your nails up and down and cling to him. Fifty five years old and he's still got it, still got the stamina and the ability to make a woman scream for him.

He can feel your pussy tightening around him, as though trying to get him deeper; he shifts, lifts one of your thighs up and presses it against your chest so he can achieve exactly that. The change in angle is rewarded by a particularly filthy moan from your lips.

"Please -"

Is the only legible word from the stream of sounds falling from you, though he thinks he hears his name amongst it, too.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I gotcha. Go on now, y' can let go whenever y' want to." His words are a little strained from the effort, from how hard he's fucking into you; some of his dark hair is falling from the messy bun he usually wears it in.

You want to reach up, to brush it from his face, but your entire body feels like it's about to shatter like glass from the way his cock slams into you; before you know it you're coming apart around him, your slick soaking his cock as you gasp for breath, choking out ragged moans as your body trembles.

"That's it, that's my girl-" he groans as he pulls out of you, letting your still fluttering cunt ache around emptiness as he turns you onto your front; you catch sight of his cock, glistening with your slick, before he has you face down, ass up.

His big hands grip your hips and pull you close, one keeping hold of you as the other guides his cock back inside you. You both give a relieved little sound as he fills you again.

The hand not at your waist moves to your chest once more, fondling your tits as he starts to move again.

"Fuck, sweetheart, got such a tight little pussy," he pulls you up so your back is against his chest as he fucks into you, the hand on your hip moving to play with your clit as he kisses your shoulder. "Could just fuckin' die here an' be a happy man, Christ -"

The hand at your chest moves up, presses two fingers into your mouth which you suck, muffling your moans as you swirl your tongue, as if sucking on his cock. Just the thought of his cock in your mouth has you drooling, and he laughs a low rumbling sound.

"Dirty girl, ain't ya? Fuck, maybe once I've filled you up, I'll make you suck my cock clean. Y' like that idea?" He feels your cunt tighten around him at the words and chuckles darkly, "yeah you fuckin' do. That what you want? Me to fuck my cum into this pretty little cunt then make you suck my cock clean?"

You whimper around his fingers and he groans, pulls them out of your mouth and tilts your head back so he can kiss you; it's sloppy and greedy and you can taste yourself on his tongue, but you cling to him because it's everything you've possibly ever wanted from him and then some.

"Alright sweetheart, here it comes, be a good girl for me, c'mon-" he groans as his hips snap up, sharp deep thrusts that have you shaking in his arms, "- take it, honey, that's it, fuuuuuccckkkk-"

The last word is drawn out as his balls tighten, his cock aching and throbbing as he spills his load inside you, deep and far more than he'd expected, hips rocking steadily until he finally stills, taking ragged breaths against your shoulder.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy -" you say finally, when he lets you down against the mattress, curls his larger frame around yours and showers your sweat damp skin with kisses.

"Seen you lookin'. Don't take a genius to know what you wanted." He chuffs a laugh and nuzzles into your neck, "just hope I lived up t' your dreams, ain't polite to keep a lady waitin' long."

You suppress a snort of laughter.

"You just fucked me like an animal after I've spent years wishing you would, my tits are covered in your bite marks and I have your cum dripping down my leg. I don't see any ladies present." You smirk and then roll onto your side so you can face him. "But yeah. You definitely did."

A pause before your expression changes, becomes a little more vulnerable, guarded.

"So what happens now? We just... Pretend this never happened?"

It's his turn to laugh, shake his head as he wraps his strong, freckled arms around you.

"Never. Ain't goin' anywhere, angel. Don't you worry your pretty head about that."

And he's right. You're like nicotine to him; now he's had a taste, there's no way he's going anywhere without you.

[fanficsformyfaves]

The Town Grouch

Luke Danes x Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, Enemies To Lovers Trope, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it up, this is fiction, you are not!), Oral Sex (R Receiving)

PREFACE: Reader's the usually cheery neighbor that gets into a screaming match with Luke over him being exceptionally rude to her one morning

A/N: Possibly the daddiest of all my fictional crushes

I was out grabbing my mail, when I cross paths with none other than 'The Town Grouch', Luke Danes, who was throwing his trash, whilst kicking the receptacle.

"What'd the can ever do to you?", I chuckled.

Locking up my mailbox.

"Don't start with me, (Y/L/N)"

"Hey"

"I don't have time for your hounding today"

"I was not 'hounding'. I simply asked what grudge you had against the innocent trashcan"

"How do you know it's innocent?"

"It's an inanimate object with no limbs to commit any sinister crimes with"

"Yeah yeah yeah, defend the trash against me"

"What is with you today?!"

"What the hell are those?!", he yelled,

Gesturing at the new daisy pots that decorated the outside of his diner.

"Daisies, what about 'em?"

"I know what they are, genius!", he yelled,

"Luke-"

"I'm asking; Why are they there?! They're turning the outside of my diner into an eyesore!"

"The daises are an eyesore element now?"

"Yes!"

"Then why are you yelling at me for?!"

"Oh, come on, you're the only person I know who would do this besides Lorelai and she's out of town with Rory"

"Well, yeah I did do this, but I don't get why you're so wound up about it!"

"I like my diner the way it is! Inside and Out! How my dad left it!"

"It was literally a hardware store!"

"That's besides the point! It was my dad and I decide what goes!"

"Alright, I'm sorry! I just thought it would be a nice gesture-"

"Save it", he cuts off.

Storming back towards the diner's door.

"Luke!", I yelled after him.

Once I realized he wasn't stopping, I ran after him.

"Luke!"

"Jess, you're in charge for the rest of the day"

"But-"

"No buts!", he screamed.

I sped walked past all the shocked tables, calling out for him.

"Luke, I'm not through with you!", I shout.

Running up the stairs behind him.

"I am", he grumbled.

Just as he was about to unlock his door, I yelled after him for a final time.

"Listen, you stubborn asshole!"

His head snaps back at my direction.

"What did you just call me?", he questioned.

Making his way back to me.

"You heard me! A stubborn asshole for acting like one!"

"Now, you listen to me-"

"NO! YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!", I poke his shoulder.

Catching him off guard.

He'd never seen me so heated before as I had a certain reputation for being level-headed and easy going.

"I wanted to do something nice for you since I thought we were friends, but I guess we aren't!"

"Yeah, we aren't"

"Obviously not cause if we were, I'd get a simple thank you or a smile or nod or whatever people like you, who think they're above socializing, do! Sorry for thinking anything more of 'The Town Grouch'!"

"Town Grouch, huh?", he challenged,

"Yes, 'The Town Grouch'! The one everyone warned me about when I first moved here, but of course, I decided to give you a chance cause I liked you, but God, turns out they were right! You're just this mean old bitter-"

I was suddenly cut off by Luke grabbing me by the waist and crashing his lips against mine.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, all my anger melted away and I found my arms wrapping themselves around his neck. I went from a raging whirlwind to a melting puddle in his grasp.

The kiss was...good, which was the craziest part of all of this.

Eventually I pulled away and all I could see where his once baby blue eyes turn dark. He then throws me around his waist, carrying me into his apartment, before using my body to slam the door shut. I threw my head back at the impact giving him access to my neck, which he proceeded to mark with several hickeys.

"You are insufferable", he mumbled against my skin.

Grinding into my clothed core.

"Right back at you", I sighed.

Pushing off the stupid cap he always sports.

He pulls my shirt over my head and quickly unhooks my bra, leaving my buds to harden against the cold winter draft.

"But you're worth the hassle", he sighs.

Diving between my breasts, before giving each one equal amounts of attention with his tongue. I was growing wetter with each passing second.

We eventually make it to his bed, where he threw me down. I go to take my skirt off, when he grabs my wrists to stop me.

"Skirt stays on", he demanded.

Taking my underwear off instead.

He takes a good look at my drenched slit and gets up, as I undo his belt, pulling his jeans down along with his boxers. His aching member now standing at full attention.

He strips off his shirt and climbs back on top of me, kissing his way up as he did till our mouths met once more. He reaches down for his cock, spreading my slick, before thrusting into me one go, ripping a scream out of me.

His hand then quickly goes over my mouth.

"There's a room full of people downstairs. Wouldn't want them to know what we're up to, do we?", he chuckled over his groans.

Beginning to pick up a rhythm with his hips. As if the bed scraping against the floor from the sheer force wasn't much of a giveaway already.

Maybe it was the size difference, but I didn't expect him to be this big. It felt like I was being split apart, but in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, don't stop!", I whined,

Earning a chuckle from Luke.

"Wasn't planning on it, sweetheart"

His pace picks up and with each ram, his tip hit my g-spot repeatedly, bringing me closer and closer to my climax. I watch as his free arm snakes under my body to help him pound into me even harder and faster.

If you had told me three years ago that I'd be in this position right now, no pun intended, I would've called you crazy, psychotic even, but in this moment, anyone else's opinion couldn't have been further from my mind, as it was currently being overrun with the blinding pleasure that was setting my skin on fire.

I knew I didn't have long and his hand reaching down to rub my sensitive bundle nerves didn't help.

"You're close, I can feel it. Do it,", he moaned against my tear stained cheeks.

And with that final sentence, I came completely undone, screaming out into the air and surely disturbing any paying customers downstairs.

Not too long after, his rhythm falters and he comes, painting my insides with a roaring groan against my neck. He then drops atop me, grounding me from the overwhelming high.

"That was-"

"Yeah", I answered,

"We just-"

"Mhm"

He then pulls out, descending lower to lick up the mess we made. I whine, grasping at his hair.

After thoroughly eating me out, he scoops me into his arms, laying me on his chest. The silence, though wildly contrasting from our previous performance, was actually quite...nice. Almost sweet and familiar.

"I'm sorry about getting so worked up"

"Don't be. I should've asked"

"Still, it was unfair. You were just trying to help and I was being a stubborn asshole"

"Gasp! He admits defeat!", I quipped,

"Don't push it"

"Okay", I laughed,

"Well, if getting you worked up lands us right back here, maybe I should piss you off more often"

He shrugs.

"Not a bad place to be, I guess", he smiled.

Till this point, I'd never seen him smile.

[xcaptainhannax]

Until the Storm Broke (joel miller x reader)

Plot: When a routine patrol turns into a deadly ambush, the reader risks everything to save Joel from a group of vengeful Fireflies—emerging wounded but victorious, and giving Joel a reason to keep going.

Warnings: violence, blood, tlou SPOILERS!!!! if you haven't seen the new chapter please be aware.

A/N: i knew what was gonna happen bc i played the game but still i couldn't watch it, i actually closed my eyes for it bc i was gonna cry BUT since this is fanfiction and im free to do whatever the fuck i want, joel lives and is happy and loved. I've taken some liberty on this for eg. jackson is not under attack and the events might no be carbon copy but i mean the plot is there ok?

The storm was brewing like a secret. Heavy clouds pushed against the peaks, and the air had that bite — the kind that told you you were on borrowed time.

Joel and Dina left early. East patrol. Joel had said something casual over coffee, a rare smile tucked behind his cup.

“Be back by sundown. Try not to miss me.”

You tried to play it cool, but you watched him ride off longer than you should’ve.

By the time you, Ellie, and Jesse mounted up a few hours later, the wind had picked up. The snow came down slow at first, just dusting the trees. You were supposed to loop through the western perimeter and check in every hour. Easy.

It stopped being easy when the radio started breaking up.

Jesse fiddled with the receiver, frowning. “They should’ve checked in by now.”

“Joel?” Ellie leaned close to the radio, voice low. “Dina? Come in.”

Static.

A burst of something.

“—not responding—ski—”

Another crackle.

“—fuck—Joel—”

Silence.

You locked eyes with Jesse.

“We go now,” you said, already kicking your horse forward.

Ellie was on your heels. No one argued.

The storm swallowed you whole. Visibility dropped, your scarf iced over, and it was almost impossible to see the trail. But you knew the old ski lodge wasn’t far. Joel had taken you there once, told you to remember the path.

You did.

The lodge was barely visible through the flurrying snow — a crooked silhouette of a cabin with boards over the windows. A warm glow leaked through a cracked door.

You dismounted first. Pistol drawn. You couldn’t explain it, but something felt off.

Inside, it was hell.

Dina was on the floor, slumped against the wall. She looked uninjured, but her eyes were shut and her breathing was shallow. Drugged — not bleeding.

You rushed to her first, checked her pulse. Strong.

“Dina,” you whispered. No response.

Then you saw Joel.

On his knees. Breathing heavy. A man grabbing him by the shoulders, keeping him down. Blood ran down his face. His hands were cuffed behind him.

Surrounding him were five strangers. Weapons drawn. Faces full of something ugly — like it wasn’t about survival.

Like it was personal.

You didn’t wait.

“NOW!” you shouted.

Jesse burst through the doorway and opened fire. Ellie rolled in behind him, a clean shot to the guy nearest Joel. You ran for him, ducking behind a broken counter.

“JOEL!” you shouted. “Down!”

He dropped as best he could. You vaulted over a chair and fired three rounds — hit one square in the neck. Another turned toward you, and before you could react, his bullet grazed your side, burning pain flaring across your ribs.

But you were already moving.

You tackled the man who had pinned Joel, knocking him off balance, and your shoulder cracked hard against the floor. You cried out, but reached for your knife.

Too late.

He lunged.

A shot rang out.

Jesse. Clean through the guy’s temple.

You panted, chest heaving, as the last one — the woman with the golf club— turned and ran.

She didn’t get far.

Ellie chased her down. You heard the scuffle. Then nothing.

Silence.

You crawled over to Joel, uncuffing him with shaking hands.

His eyes widened when he saw your blood.

“Y/N—”

“I’m okay,” you lied, breath hitching. “We got you.”

Joel leaned forward, cupping the back of your neck, his blood mixing with yours. “You shouldn’t’ve come.”

You laughed bitterly. “Like hell I wouldn’t.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you got back to Jackson, you were half-frozen and barely conscious.

They patched you up. The bullet had passed through clean, no organ damage. Your shoulder, though, was wrecked. And your ribs would be sore for weeks.

Joel never left your side.

Neither did Ellie. You knew she was still resentful with Joel but the attack clearly left her scared.

Dina, still groggy, came to see you the next morning. “They gave me something. Knocked me out cold. I didn’t even see it coming.”

She was safe. All of you were and that’s all that mattered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joel sat next to your bed that night, hand in yours, eyes tired but alive.

“Reckless,” he muttered. “Damn fool thing you did.”

“You’d do it for me.”

He was quiet.

“Already did,” you added softly.

Joel leaned in then, forehead brushing yours.

“I’d do it again,” he said.

There was a long silence before he spoke again, voice lower, heavier.

“They were Fireflies.”

You looked at him.

“The girl—the one who swung the bat. Her name was Abby. She was the daughter of that surgeon. The one I… killed. Back in Salt Lake. To get Ellie out.”

His voice cracked just a little. “They were after me because of that. Spent years hunting me.”

You squeezed his hand, gently.

“And they found you. And they lost.”

You met his eyes, firm.

“You saved Ellie that day. I’d have done the same. And I’ll keep saving you now, every damn time if I have to.”

Joel stared at you, a thousand things flashing behind those storm-colored eyes. He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he leaned closer, pressing his forehead to yours again.

“Goddamn lucky you’re stubborn.”

You smiled. “You love that about me.”

He chuckled — a soft, broken sound.

“I do.”