#for the record we love abby!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macfrog · 3 months

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psyche and cupid | one shot

happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k

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It’s not in his nightstand.

Not hung over the newel post, either.

He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.

You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.

His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.

You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.

You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.

The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.

You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.

Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.

The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.

It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.

Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.

His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.

His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.

You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.

Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.

Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.

Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?

I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.

Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.

On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?

Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.

He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.

It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.

He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.

Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.

I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?

He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.

In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.

You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.

What about your holster?

He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.

February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.

Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.

I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.

It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.

Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.

It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.

Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?

He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.

Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?

He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.

There’s a lot about Joel you admire.

Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.

Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.

He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.

Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.

Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.

He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.

It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.

And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.

The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.

A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.

Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.

It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.

Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.

The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.

Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –

The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…

The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.

Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.

It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.

Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.

You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.

But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.

It…stirs something.

You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.

Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.

Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?

A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.

Yeah.

Stirs something, alright.

Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.

You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.

A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.

Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.

And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.

The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.

Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.

Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.

The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.

All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.

He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.

But he’s here now, at least.

He’s home.

As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.

The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.

Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?

Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.

And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.

You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.

So where the fuck are you?

Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?

Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.

A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.

You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.

Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.

Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.

You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.

Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–

His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.

He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.

His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.

A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.

Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.

And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.

A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.

Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.

He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.

Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.

Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.

Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.

With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.

Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?

A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted – leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.

Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.

You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.

Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.

When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.

Joel nods. Off.

He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.

Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.

It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.

But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.

He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.

You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.

I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.

Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.

Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.

Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.

He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.

But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.

And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.

So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.

You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.

J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.

The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.

You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.

You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.

There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.

Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.

As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.

He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.

And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.

Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.

Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.

And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.

You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –

Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –

You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –

Shit.

Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –

Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.

It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.

No.

It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.

And it makes Joel come. Hard.

Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.

He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.

Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.

His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.

But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.

You’re awake.

Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.

Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?

I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.

Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?

It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.

The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.

He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.

With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?

Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.

He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.

You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.

You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.

Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?

He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.

Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.

#same universe as 'wish you were here' - if you want #joel miller #jackson!joel #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tw somnophilia #tw dubcon

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hunnylagoon · 4 months

Text

When I Was Your Girl

Stage Fright

Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader

‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’

Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.

Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick

Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes

I've never been anything more than a joke.

I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.

Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar.

"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."

"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.

"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"

She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."

"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."

Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"

She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."

I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."

I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.

"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.

I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."

The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"

"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."

He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"

"Nope."

"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny.

"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.

As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.

I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.

I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place.

Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.

Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.

His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.

"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him.

"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.

"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.

"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.

"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.

My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.

I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.

When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.

I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.

Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.

The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.

It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers.

I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.

Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.

If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.

My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.

Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.

She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.

I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.

I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.

Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.

"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."

Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.

Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement.

"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.

Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.

I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.

Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.

At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."

The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.

I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."

I lived for the applause.

"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-

Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.

"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.

Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing

The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.

Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.

"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.

She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.

My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.

I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.

"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.

"I am so beyond grateful-

"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."

Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.

"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”

It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.

"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"

People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.

"Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.

I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."

"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.

I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.

After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.

Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."

Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.

Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.

Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.

I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.

That was the night I truly became famous.

Grade eight- Age thirteen

Middle school is hard.

Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.

I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.

Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.

In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life

"If you gave me only one wish,

I wouldn't want to feel this way.

They told me I'd have your memory

But all I want is you to stay

And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,

It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,

I wanted you to know."

I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain

This beautiful pain for you."

However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.

"If I sailed the world on stormy seas

Chasing sunlight that I can't see.

I was a dreamer here before,

Before I woke up and fell to the floor

And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,

Even with a scar this butterfly flew.

I wanted you to know."

I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day, these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."

Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.

"And all I'll ever need

And all I'll ever be,

Within every part of me is this,

This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.

This beautiful pain,

For you."

As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.

The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.

I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather.

He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.

It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.

"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.

"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.

"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"

"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"

I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.

"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."

"I sang at the talent show today."

"And?"

"Everyone made fun of me."

He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"

"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.

"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."

"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"

I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."

"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.

After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.

When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"

"I dunno."

"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."

"So what do I do?"

"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."

Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.

I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"

I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?"

Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out

woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself

theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole

user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails

conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.

Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music

Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom

hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.

Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé

hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me

maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.

stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?

Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy

Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn

thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album

dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!

elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝

call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly

elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????

follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?

ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔

call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis

sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.

mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television

elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist

mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't

bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested

carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system

may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom

body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF

charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING

juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.

botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.

karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.

carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????

katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene

howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.

elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious

3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke

allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV

jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh

hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll

4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice

sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.

carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed

elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid

carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔

"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.

"Well, it's not really my fault."

"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"

My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-

"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.

"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."

"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."

I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.

I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.

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lizzieisright · 5 months

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it needs to be said... can we imagine pre-sub abby who's a little shy about asking you to dom her, but she's """really""" into the idea and one day you walk in on her fucking herself moaning your name.

MDNI

Pre-sub Abby is a confused baby, she has this.. urge, this desire, but she doesn't know how to articulate it properly, she can't ask for it because she doesn't have the words.

And you don't see it yet to help her, so Abby is miserable. She loves it when she tops you, holds you down and makes you take everything, but in her most embarrassing moments she fantasizes about you making her take everything.

And Abby is so embarrassed, because she is not small or delicate or weak, but her desires creep on her, making her not able to think about anything else, and she gives up.

You're on duty, and Abby is so fucking horny. She needs you so much her body trembles, and she can't wait for you to come back, she has to take care of herself.

It starts innocently enough, and Abby is shyly playing with her clit, for some reason feeling like she is being watched, even though she is alone (she is paranoid, she checked). Her breath gets heavier, cloudy memories of the times when you had sex spiking her arousal.

The way your hands feel on her skin, the way you voice falls an octave when your eyes are full of lust - oh, it drives her insane. Abby feels hot and takes her t-shirt off, laying naked on the bed.

What would you do if you saw her right now? Her blushing face, her wet, dripping cunt with her hand between her legs - what would it make you do?

Abby bites her lip to muffle her moans as she imagines you scolding her in a loving manner like you always do when she fucks up your dinner. Couldn't wait for me, babygirl? Your voice chuckles in her head, Well then, give me a show.

And oh, Abby does. She pinches her nipple with her free hand, rolling it between her fingers as she slaps her pussy lightly, because this is what you'd do to punish her for being so impatient. Come on baby, fuck yourself for me, be a good girl, you murmur in her mind and Abby whimpers like a little slut she is and pushes two fingers inside, not caring about the burning sensation she gets from being stretched so suddenly.

"I'll be so good for you." Abby hears herself whisper and she can't even feel embarrassed right now. She imagines it's your fingers which are pounding roughly into her. "Fuck, (y/n)!" Abby sobs while her other hand starts circling her clit, bringing her closer to her orgasm.

The real you though just came into your apartment and heard Abby sob your name. But you don't even think about a possibility of your girlfriend shamelessly fucking herself, no - you think she is hurt and needs your help. Your heart sink in worry and you take your shoes and jacket off in record time, storming to the bedroom just to freeze in the doorway.

Abby is plastered on the bed, naked, and she is fucking herself with three fingers, going knuckle deep on each thrust. Her face and tits are red, her hair is a mess, and-

"(y/n), let me cum- please let me cum-" She begs the imaginative you, but real you almost fall from hearing Abby fucking Anderson beg.

You swallow hard and decide to just watch and not interrupt in case it will ruin Abby's orgasm, but hearing the squelching of her pussy, her whimpers of your name becomes more unbearable with every second and you can't take it anymore.

You startle Abby when you get on the bed and she immediately looks embarrassed and tries to mumble an explanation, but you don't need it.

"You wanna cum, baby?" You ask her in your low from arousal voice and Abby whimpers, her eyes rolling back. "Answer me."

Oh fuck, Abby thinks and her whole body shakes. This is so much better than her fantasies.

"Yes." Abby manages to say.

"Open up then."

Abby shyly spreads her thighs and you go down, get yourself comfortable and push two of your own fingers inside. Abby moans and tries to hide her face behind her hand, but you move it away.

"Watch me." You tell her and Abby can only nod.

You lick a strip from her hole to her clit and Abby's thighs close on you, but you don't care as long as your tongue is attached to her puffy clit, as long as she keeps sobbing and moaning your name like a fucking pray. You can't help your own growl when she starts to squirm, but Abby stops moving, her eyes pleading and desperate as she keeps watching you destroy her pussy.

"I'm gonna cum- oh my god-fuck-fuck!" She sobs and almost curls on herself, spasming around your fingers as she cums.

You smile wolfishly while Abby comes undone and kiss her thigh when she lies back down, breathing heavily. She twitches when you take your fingers out, and then reality hits her.

Abby can't help but to hide her face again, so fucking embarrassed - not only you caught her getting off, but now you also knew what she was getting off to.

"Oh my fucking god." She says, mortified, but you only chuckle.

"It was hot, Abby. Fucking scared me at first though, I thought something happened." You kiss her tit since she refuses to show her face.

"Sorry." Abby says into her own hands, still cringing. "I didn't mean for you so see.. this."

"Because big strong Abby doesn't beg?" You tease her and she hits you playfully. "Sorry. It was hot. If I knew you wanted me to dom you, I'd have tied you to the bed like, yesterday."

Abby's eyes get wide open. That was the word she was looking for: she wanted you to dom her.

"Really?" Abby asks as she moves her hands away to look at you, hopeful and vulnerable.

"Yes." You kiss her finally. "How about we take a shower and then I'll show how else I can make you beg, hm?"

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #sub!abby #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #written on a knee

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sl-ut · 1 month

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Wait a sequel to the drunk reader partying fic drabble thing where abbys trying to get you to drink water and you're refusing and arguing with her in your drunk state insisting you're fine LMAOOO (you're not)

party girl

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: the cheer team won nationals, and they’re ready to party. only problem is, there’s a team-only pregame, which means abby can’t keep track of how much her girlfriend has to drink.

warnings: alcohol consumption, reader is VERY drunk in this, some creepy men (ew always), making out, femme reader, cursing, i was sorta rlly high when i wrote this sorry excuse any badness

words: 1.2K

date posted: 06/04/24

more college!abby

it's quite rare for abby to go to a party without her girlfriend. in fact, abby typically only goes as a formality, but she likes when her girl makes an effort to come with her. unfortunately for her, the cheer team decided that they would be having a squad-only pregame, which meant that abby would be wrapped into driving her drunk friends around before (and probably after) the party. at least she was getting a pretty steady stream of snaps from her girl throughout the night, but as soon as she starts getting the ones from nora, she gets worried.

they're all videos of y/n shotgunning, funneling, and demolishing lines of shots in record time. normally, she wasn't very possessive over her girlfriend, but she knew from their very early relationship that y/n could not handle her liquor, so she knew she was in for quite the treat when she got there.

but she could not have imagined what she was about to see the moment she walked into the crowded house. it took her a moment to truly realise what kind of spectacle could have caused every frat guy in a mile radius to flock together so wildly, until she realised that her girlfriend was swaying to the music atop the kitchen table, her skirt hiked up over the meat of her thighs and she didn't even seem to be aware of it.

abby quickly pushed her way through the crowd of boys, roughly shoving one of the ones at the front who had been attempting to angle his phone to get a proper up-skirt shot. y/n's eyes popped open at the sound of her name, an excited grin appearing on her face as she all but leaped off of the table and into her arms (thank god for all those muscles).

she laughed as her girlfriend practically wrapped herself around her, pressing sloppy kisses against the side of her face.

"heyyyy baby," y/n smiled drunkenly up at her, "i've been waiting for you."

"seems like it," abby laughed, "you having fun?"

"more now that you're here," she leaned up to kiss her, and abby almost gagged at the taste of every alcohol she could name on her tongue. "we won today."

"i know, i was there. you were so so so good, beautiful."

"mhm," y/n smiled, "i love winning. i feel like such a winner right now."

abby was the first person to understand the feeling, it was the exact same rush of confidence she felt in her own veins after her own games. she had been excited to take to the stands this time around, watching and cheering for her girlfriend in the same way that she had always done for her.

"you are a winner, baby."

she fluttered her eyelashes at her, "and i can't wait for you to give me my reward later."

"reward?" abby asked, feigning innocence.

"oh please, i know you could tell what i was wearing under here," she pursed her lips, fingers tugging at her dark red bra strap, "if you aren't gonna give me my reward, i guess i'll have to take it for myself."

abby shook in head in disbelief, "you're gonna have to sober up some if that's what you were wanting."

y/n leaned in to tug abby's reddening earlobe between her teeth, "no matter how sober i get, i'll still be drunk on you baby."

"oh, that one was bad," abby tilted her head back as she laughed, one hand coming down to grasp at her girlfriend's lower back, "you're cheesy when you're drunk."

"what, are you lactose in tolerant all the sudden? maybe i'll have to find someone who likes my cheese."

abby gripped her hips, "okay, okay, i'm sorry. you know i love your cheese."

"i know," y/n grinned, "you can make it up to me by dancing with me."

abby nodded, "that i can do."

she allowed her girlfriend to lead her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, easily pressing herself into her back and holding her hips as she moved her hips into hers. she was happy enough to just sway side to side, let her girl do all of the heavy work as she ground her ass into her groin with one arm slung back and around abby's neck, holding on for dear life as the blonde began pressing kisses along the side of her throat.

y/n's body tipped to the side the a hard push, both of their attentions being turned to the tall brunette who scowled down at y/n with a mean stare.

"watch it, bitch."

abby doesn't even remember moving, just taking hold of the front of the girl's shirt in her fist, pulling her close and breathing her own warning into her face. y/n watched in amusement as the brunette shrunk at the threat and moved as quickly through the crowd as possible. y/n laughed with glee, hugging her girlfriend tightly.

"you are so so so sexy when you get protective over me."

abby took her by the hand, pushing her ahead and guiding her by her hips to the kitchen, where they were quickly recruited to join nora and manny in a game of beer pong. abby reassured her girlfriend by promising to grab her a new drink (it was just a coke), and snickering behind her hand at how oblivious her girlfriend was to her scheming. once the cup was empty, abby changed her tactic to offering her girlfriend shot after shot of water under the guise of vodka, laughing to herself when her girlfriend commented on how drunk she must be if it wasn't burning her throat so badly.

after winning the game, y/n decided that it was time to sneak away with her girlfriend to the bathroom, where she made quick work of her top as she made a rather sloppy seduction attempt. abby had to use every ounce of her self control to push her hands away as y/n tried to unbuckle her belt.

"c'mon baby," abby groaned as she felt her hot tongue drag across her collar bone, the first few buttons of her shirt having been undone the moment that the door had been shut behind her, "cut that out."

"what? you don't want me?" she whined.

"i do, believe me i do," she groaned, taking her hands in her own and forcing her to look at her, "but not here, and not while you're this drunk."

y/n groaned, "sometimes i hate how good of a person you are."

abby chuckled and kissed her on the cheek, "i know, i know, me too. now let's get some water into you because i do plan on giving you that reward tonight."

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #college!abby anderson

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beforeimdeceased · 6 months

Note

IM SO HOOKED ON CRYBABY I NEED MORE OMG

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT6

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had enough at this point.

a/n: the next chapter is already in the works and guys…things get so… like there’s no going back i think this is the end point 😭

i don’t care if it hurts

masterlist.

no one can get a word in before jesse breaks up the fight. “we go on in two minutes. get it together. fucking get cleaned up.” he pulls at ellie.

you’re baffled, really. such a silly word but it’s the only one you can use. abby never really got into fights, that you’d known of. she was one of your best friends. and you never had the heart to tell her about what ellie had done, so how did she figure everything out? why are you spiraling? ellie probably said or did something to get herself punched. maybe this has nothing to do with you?

“and i’m very excited to introduce our next performers. watching them go from garages, to performing on stages, to signing record deals has been a beautiful journey. i’m happy to say i’ve been here since the beginning. now please make some noise for, seattle revival!”

you and abby are sat backstage as you dress her wounds. you wait to hear a familiar string of notes from jesse as he starts their first song, but you’re surprised by ellie’s voice on the mic.

“guys i just want to start the show off by apologizing to someone very near a dear to me. a very special person in my life who i’ve hurt—“

“we love you ellie!”

“aww i love you too. i want to say i’m sorry to her because i did some really fucked up shit in the past and i hope that she can forgive me and that we can move past it.”

the crowd cheers.

“and go back to being lovey dovey girlfriends. please forgive me babe. it’ll never happen again.”

abby’s mouth falls so far to the ground you could stick your fist in it. her face has never turned red faster. “what the fuck is she talking about? you guys were—are dating?”

you frantically shake your head. “no abby she’s lying. i don’t know what she’s gaining from it either. i think we should go now.”

“and this next song is dedicated to her—“ she points to you, an employee tugs at you to make you more visible, pulling you to the stage. a spotlight falls on you. everybody’s phone is up. everybody’s flash is on. here come the waterworks, fuck. didn’t you say you weren’t gonna cry today?

and then a familiar string of notes plays. jesse and dina catch on quickly, and your heart seeps. there was no way she was playing this song right now.

“when you were here before.”

you’re taken back to that first rehearsal. stuffed in jesse’s parents garage on a gloomy day. you were sitting on a scratched up couch, petting his cat. ellie looked over to you with a smile on her face. “you listen to a lot of music?”

you nod. “i love music. i was honestly so excited to hear you guys are starting a band. i’ll be your first groupie! handmade merch and everything.”

she laughs before whispering something to jesse and dina, then returning to the mic. “we’re gonna dedicate this one to our first groupie.”

“couldn’t look you in the eyes.”

dina and jesse slipped off after that practice and you knew they’d gone to go fuck somewhere, so you stayed with ellie. “they have no idea how to be discreet about it.” you laugh. she shrugs. “good on them, atleast i’m not alone dealing with it anymore.”

she’d convinced you to grab icecream with her. nestled in the booth of the old restaurant over an icecream sundae. soft music playing from its speakers. it was nearly empty, and it had started to rain outside.

“so how long have you known jesse and dina?” you ask, dipping a spoon in your side of the sweet treat. she grabs a cherry from the top, popping it into her mouth. “since we were kids in highschool. those are my best friends. i’m excited to be starting a band with them, and i’m glad i got to meet you.”

you blush.

you’re crying now. onstage, you’re crying. you can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks and underneath your chin. you wipe at them but they just won’t go away. she was so sweet to you a couple years ago. she was the sweetest person you’d ever met. how could you even compare the person singing to you now, and the person you’d met back then?

then you get a glimpse of her. it’s in her eyes. you’re flashing back between that memory and now. her hand in yours, running through the rain. catching the bus back to jesse’s. staying up and watching movies all night. waking up the next day to the lovebirds apologizing, while you and ellie laugh about it so hard your stomachs started to ache.

and you’re conflicted because this is the same ellie that got drunk at a party and threw up all over you. twice. then the next day said, “atleast it was better than what you’d been wearing.” jesus, she was addicting. she’d hooked you in and completely destroyed you. your self esteem. and now she was trying to play nice?

out of the corner of your eye, before you can catch it, abby is walking onstage. she takes a moment to look at you, tears streaming down your face, and decides to turn around. she walks away and it takes you a minute to follow behind. calling for her. begging her to come back.

“abby stop. where are you going?”

“no, just stop. you’re pathetic. why do you take the shit she does? don’t you have any respect for yourself?”

you’ve never heard her speaking to you this way. between your head rushing from the crying and the whiplash you’re getting from her harsh words, you feel like you’re going to pass out. “i don’t just take it abby. how do you even know about that stuff—“

“because jesse and dina told me! i’m supposed to be your best fucking friend but you can’t even communicate the simplest of things. the things i know are hurting you inside. i was gonna— never mind. fucking forget it.”

and then she walks away, disappearing into a hallway. fading away slowly like a ghost. body blurred from your tears. you feel your feet get weak first, then you drop to your knees and onto the ground. huddling within yourself. letting all your tears fall.

the “seattle revival’s last show after party” is one you refused to miss. with everything happening between abby and ellie, you were more than prepared to let it all go. to get drunk or high or whatever the fuck, and stop feeling. this very thought picked you up off that floor, and led you to the dressing rooms. you enjoyed the rest of the show from there, wiping at your face so hard you felt like it would bruise.

when the band found their way into the dressing room, dina and jesse rushed over to comfort you. “i swear i’d bash her head in if it didn’t interfere with the tour. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be apologizing for her but it’s the only way you’ll get a real one. i’m sorry.”

you had sat with the pain for long enough. you’d cried enough. you didn’t know where abby was or why she said what she did but it was your breaking point. if you were a house, she had pulled a loose brick. making everything collapse within itself. and tumble over everyone else in its path. you felt like…ellie. the world had darkened. the small light, the tiny bits of happiness in you, had melted away. you didn’t care anymore.

you get up to face ellie, her smile fading when her eyes meet yours. everything had left them. all that purity. all that love, was gone.

“honestly i’m over it. let’s go to the after party.”

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cryptidcorners · 6 months

Note

Hey! I saw your requests were open! Could we have some cute Mike fluff of taking Abby back to school shopping and struggling to help choose outfits for her? Probably would include being silently discouraged by the prices of the nice clothes but trying to get her something nice anyway? This can either be just Mike and Abby, or include a y/n girlfriend, I’m not picky. Thanks!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: $49.99

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights at Freddy's

= A.N: I'm loving your requests ! This is too cute, had to write it ASAP! Hope you like it.

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: Just a fluffy one-shot of Mike & his girlfriend going "back to school" shopping with Abby !

= Request: "Hey! I saw your requests were open! Could we have some cute Mike fluff of taking Abby back to school shopping and struggling to help choose outfits for her? Probably would include being silently discouraged by the prices of the nice clothes but trying to get her something nice anyway? This can either be just Mike and Abby, or include a y/n girlfriend, I'm not picky. Thanks!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Slice of Life, Sweet Talk + Moments, Abby being Adorable, Back to School Shopping, Established Relationship, Some Comfort, Romantic, Found Family + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Slight Doubt + Worry from Mike, but it's Subtle !

= Please read my INTRO before interacting !

"How about this one?" Abby pointed, eyes fixed on a colorful binder paired up with a neat pack of coloring supplies. Before Mike could open his mouth, she was already tailing it forward. An exhausted breath left his lips instead, but he couldn't help but chuckle softly at her enthusiasm. He missed when he was that way. It brought him closure to see Abby running around all excited, and he was going to nurture it as much as he could.

Mike gasped quietly when you lightly nudged his shoulder playfully. "Earth to Michael," you joked. Mike eased, folding his arms and shyly looking away. "Sorry, just thinking." Mike's eyes promptly shifted towards Abby, who was stirring about like she was in a candy store. Your voice softened, "About her?"

"Yeah. It's just nice to see her so happy. Especially after, well," he trailed off. "I'm just glad she's doing okay."

You caressed his face with a smile, and he quickly placed a hand on yours, obviously savoring the moment. His eyes closed in comfort.

"Mike, can I get this?" Abby asked. His eyes flickered open. "Oh?" He lowered himself down to get to her level. Something you had always found cute.

She extended her hand on a sparkly-colorful outfit, its lower half dragging against the floor. Mike hummed and pulled out the tag, and frowned. Which caught into you as well.

"Mike?"

"Hey, how about you keep looking for some more supplies. That way, when I get the cart, we can just pile everything up and get out of here quicker." He continued, "And you'll be able to use your color pencils quicker too."

Abby smiled, "Really?" Mike nodded quietly and ruffled her hair a bit. She turned back and disappeared down the aisle. Mike's eyes were following her the entire way, he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

Mike stood up, face low with defeat. "Nearly fifty bucks. I don't think I can afford it, but-"

You finished, "You don't want to tell her?" And he nodded.

"Look, I can put in a few bucks, Mike. I shouldn't let you pay for everything." You told him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Mike weakly protested, "I can't let you do that. You've done so much, I don't want to take your money."

"Mike, I want to. I love the kid, and you've been working hard." You kissed his cheek lightly. Which made him bashful in record pace, "Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

Once Abby returned, you had decided to spend more of what you intended. As much as Mike protested, you insisted that it was all for Abby. Besides, it brought him incredible joy to see Abby trying on new sweaters and accessories she adored. That was convincing enough to let you gather a few more pieces of her new wardrobe and leave the store with a heartfelt attitude.

Abby had been holding your hand the whole time. She was definitely giddy, but she was quiet too. Which brought Mike to gently remind her, "Don't you have something to say, Abbs?"

"Oh, right! Thank you so, so, so much!" Abby said childishly. "I'm going to try all of these when I get home. My friends will love this."

"I'm sure they will." You replied with a grin. Which made you turn to Mike with a softened expression, silently mouthing an: "I love you" before driving home to spend time with Abby one last time before her new year of school.

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf #writing #writers on tumblr #💌 request!#jl-march

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forthelostones · 7 months

Text

— 🧚🏾(mdni; visual smut - modern au)

tw: mentions c*ck, phone sex !

based off this video.

when you and abby have been apart for so long and you miss her so much. she had been working so hard recently, back to back meetings, staying on top of her physical health, and ensuring you had nothing to worry about.

but that meant you were lonely at times. it wasn’t unusual to find you fucking yourself in the living room hoping she’d just come home early and catch you. and when she would come home and try to relax it resulted in her falling asleep during a movie or while reading. you loved abby so much but saw so little of her.

today, she had a meeting with the partners and it would mean a boost in rank and salary. she stayed up all night, tossing in bed anxiously. you saw how stressed she was.

when she left that morning you woke up craving her by your side. which lead you to be soaked in return. you slipped her pillow down to your crotch, belly down, and started grinding slowly. abby loved feeling you like that, either with clothes on or off. you riding her thigh, her hip, her ass, or her cunt. you remembered how her lips felt against yours which made you more frustrated.

that’s when you took her strap out of the nightstand drawer. you lifted your hips and slid it in carefully, yelping at how tight you were. it was harder to be aroused when abby wasn’t singing praises in your ear.

“yes baby, oh-oh fuck, yes fuck me.”

you slowly grind against the toy and it’s base, rocking back and forth, but still it wasnt enough. in your shared bedroom abby had two large mirrors installed on the outside of the closet door. it made for a good view when she wanted to see your face during doggy. abby became so intoxicated watching your tits bounce and your mouth drop at the feeling of her inside you.

you removed the dildo from the strap and placed it on the center of the mirror. you thought it would be a good time to tease her. after you slide your pussy back onto the toy you take your phone and start recording. the thought being abby’s personal pornstar turned you on so much.

you press send, still slowly stroking her cock, smiling at how it was filling you up. it wasn’t just moments until you had an incoming facetime call. she had a private office at her firm, she would joke about it when she was first hired.

“no gaudy glass windows, i mean you saw the other ones, i got lucky, too bad we can’t play big boss fucks her assistant.”

you answer, cheeks burning, as you saw her top slightly unbuttoned, pants down and pussy exposed.

“i don’t have long.” she muttered, working her hand around her clit.

“oh now you have time for me.” you moan.

“come on, fuck yourself for me baby.”

#this acc turned me on #lesbian #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby smut #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x you #abby the last of us

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flanaganfilm · 4 months

Note

wanted to ask about 'midnight mass: the art of horror' as a tie in book to the show because i never hear about it. personally i loved finding out about the whole process of midnight mass, what did you think about having/contributing to it? would you ever consider doing something similar for future projects?

That was Netflix's idea - it was the one and only time they did any kind of physical media tie-in for any of the work I did while I was there. I honestly don't know why they opted to do that for Midnight Mass, but not for Hill House, or Bly, or Usher. One of my theories is that we filmed Midnight Mass during the early days of the pandemic lock-down, and there just weren't many other productions up and running at Netflix at the time. All of the executives were working from home, there were far less shows and movies, and maybe that encouraged some more attention on us. But regardless, they never did anything else like it for one of my projects again.

I love that this book exists. It's a wonderful record of what we went through to make the show, and a testament to the exquisite production design and art direction. Of all the series I made, Midnight Mass is still my favorite, and it was by far the best production experience I ever had making a series, so having a record of it is a very special thing. The interviews with the cast are excellent and thoughtful, and it really captures a moment in time in my career that I'll always treasure. I wish they'd opted to do it for everything I made while I was there, and I hope Amazon will be a little more thoughtful with the work we do together. Would be great to do more of these.

For anyone interested, here's a link:

#midnight mass #the art of horror #tie-in book

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zombholic · 7 months

Text

HE’S SO LUCKY — abby anderson

summary — reader has an undying love for her best friend abby, who only has eyes for owen.

description — poc fem!reader, angsty, three-way love, listen to your sad romantic playlist, actually just listen to enchanted by taylor swift.

authors note — yall sorry this was a little long but im listening to sad songs and i had to make this 😔 NOT PROOF READ !!

— 🎧　　 ◦ ✺ 　 📽　 ⟢ —

Your eyes scanned the aquarium seeing all your friends gathered up together for Manny’s birthday, he loved to go all out for his parties that not even an outbreak can stop him. You sat next to Leah on the floor with your back pressed up against the table as everyone was huddled up together in a circle on a cold winter night, all of you had snuck out of base to come here.

“I’m fucking twenty-five pendejos!” Manny drunkenly raised his beer in the air, slurring on his words having everyone cheer for him, beer bottles clanking together as splashes of beer fell. “Who’s gonna carry his ass back to base when he’s blacked out” you commented earning a couple of laughs from your friends.

Leah managed to find a record player with a couple of old school vinyls, the music playing in the back softly. Your eyes always seemed to wander back to Abby, you couldn’t lie, you were in love with the girl but there was nothing you could do, she was always going to have eyes for Owen even if Mel was carrying his child.

You saw the way she laughed a little too hard as his stupid jokes, her blue eyes glistening every time she looked at him, God, it disgusted you. Feeling your face heat up, jealousy consumed your insides as you burned holes into Owen’s stupid face “You’re making it obvious Y/n.” Leah nudged your side, blinking a few times before seeping back into reality, a heavy sigh fell from your lungs, leaning your head against the desk rolling it over to Leah who was fiddling around with her polaroid camera.

“What does she see in that thing.” your doe eyes rolled in annoyance hearing his stupid laugh over and over again “If you were straight you would understand, say cheese.” She lifted her camera to her eyes taking a quick off guard picture of you “Leah, I wasn’t ready!” you laughed pushing her shoulder softly “Hey, take a picture with us!” Mel waved her hand motioning to bring you guys over to them.

You two made your way over to the other side, you sat down beside Abby “Hey, take a picture of Me and Y/n.” Abby spoke up, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, you head leaned against her shoulder with a smile on your face as Leah snapped the picture. The frame slowly coming out before she handed it over to Abby.

“We look good together” She giggled looking over at you with her beautiful, enchanting blue eyes. You looked up at her through your lashes looking away quickly catching yourself stare at her for a bit too long. Scooting a little bit away from her you brought your knees up to your chest feeling cold from the air leaking through the cracks.

Everyone knew you were madly in love with the blonde, how could they not? they way you looked at her was not a look you gave anyone else, everyone you ever met has told you how intimidating you are, your demeanor scaring off people. You knew you were a little cold towards others but these people had your heart but nothing like how Abby did and yet she was the only one who was so clueless.

“Y/n, take any interest in anyone? it’s like you refuse to let loose.” Owen half drunkenly spoke up, he knew about your feelings towards Abby as well and he loved to take advantage of that. “No, too busy trying to fight for my life rather than getting girls pregnant.” Your snark remark has everyone hollering, “She got your ass Pendejo!” Manny laughing so hard you swore he was gonna pass out from lack of oxygen.

You saw Abby tense up from what you said, you knew she was upset over the fact Owen had gotten his girlfriend pregnant. After a couple of rounds of drinking you felt your body shoot up with confidence, you found yourself getting a little touchy with Abby, your hands would go from playing with her braid to rubbing her back. Abby couldn’t care less, she never felt uncomfortable around you quite honestly she loved the attention you were giving her since Owen was too busy making out with Mel.

“Abs, can I talk to you?” your hand ran up to the back of her neck softly rubbing it for her to look at you “Yeah, what’s wrong? want me to take you back to base?” Concern filled her face, brow’s farrowed together. “No, I— follow me.” Standing up you walked through the doors to the other side of the aquarium, Abby trailing right behind you.

“What did you wanna—“ She saw tears falling down your sweet face, rushing to cup your face in her calloused hands “Why are you crying hun?” You sniffled rolling your eyes at her “Stop doing that Abs.” You spoke barely above a whisper, avoiding eye contact with her. “Doing what Y/nn? hey, look at me.” Her eyes soften, so worried about the girl who she saw as a close friend, you looked up at her with your tear filled doe eyes.

Grabbing her face you pulled her into a kiss, your lips smashing against her soft ones. Pulling away you realized what you did, you just jeopardized the only thing that mattered to you so much, both of your eyes widened at your actions. “I— oh fuck, I’m so fucking sorry Abby.” Before she could even say anything you had ran out the doors, running back to base with tear streaming down your face endlessly, the ache in your heart had you sobbing out in pain.

Why him? why not me?

— 🎧　　 ◦ ✺ 　 📽　 ⟢ —

#lesbian #lgbtq #wlw #the last of us ii #the last of us #tlou #abby anderson #tlou2 #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson drabble #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby x reader #abby tlou #angst #forbidden love

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blackypanther9 · 6 months

Text

How to turn a Killer into a Bunny – (FNaF Movie)William Afton x Male!Reader

Part 1 – Steve Raglan

Mike just lost his last job and M/n huffed in annoyance. Michael Schmidt was M/n’s best friend and he wanted to help him and his Sister Abby out as much as he could. He looked some things up and then decided to drag Michael to a Career Counselor.

There they sat. M/n decided to come with Mike and be his pillar. After all, he always was and Mike wasn’t all that social with new people.

“Are you sure this will help me ?”, Mike asked.

“You don’t have many options anymore, Mike. You need a job, you have a bad record of keeping jobs and with that, you need help and a stable job now. I am sure here you will get help, if there still is a chance for you.”, M/n assured.

“If ?”, Mike repeated.

“Mike, you didn’t study anything great, you are bad in keeping a job and you are always tired, also, you don’t work nights. These things mostly scare away people that want to give you a job.”

Mike lost hope right then and there. They waited for a while and Michael spaced out.

“Number 27.”, an elderly Lady called out.

M/n pulled Mike out of his thoughts and they listened to the woman. She said a number and that the name of the Career Counselor is Steve Raglan. They arrived at the door and knocked gently.

“Come in.”, a voice called from the other side.

M/n opened it and stepped inside, with Mike in tow. They saw a man sitting at his desk, back turned to them, file in hand.

“Good day, Mr. Raglan. My name is M/n L/n and I am here with Mike. I am his emotional support.”, M/n introduced himself.

“Good day to you too, Mr. L/n. My name is Steve Raglan and I will be finished with reading my file in a bit, then we can start.”, Steve replied kindly, not looking up.

M/n and Mike sat down and waited patiently for Mr. Raglan to finish reading everything.

After a bit, Steve began to hum and flipped back the pages, he then turned around and looked at Michael.

“What is your deal, Mike ? What are you, some kind of head case ?”, Steve Raglan asked.

M/n looked at Michael, knowing why Steve said all that. His latest job...was a bit bitter to say the least. He sat there and let the man finish, who looked back into the file.

“You beat up a man in broad daylight. In front of his child.”, the older man said.

Mike started to fumble with his words.

“It was a misunderstanding, I thought...”, he hesitated.

“He thought the Father was kidnapping the child. I was there that day and saw it too. It seemed like he snatched the child away, dragged him away and the boy had no clue what was happening. Mike acted wrong, but he meant well, Sir. I already gave him a scolding for it.”, M/n replied smoothly and softly.

Steve Raglan looked at M/n as he explained and nodded with a thoughtful hum. M/n felt like he had to add it, to Mike’s case.

“Many Security guards wouldn’t have paid attention to that kind of behavior at all. Mike did, but acted wrong. He shouldn’t have jumped at the man and started to beat him up, he already knows that. It won’t happen again.”

The older male looked at Mike and then again at M/n.

“Is he not going to say all that himself ?”, Steve asked.

“He would, but people love to interrupt him when he tries to explain himself and he needs a moment sometimes to find his words. He is socially very awkward, with new people, that’s why I am here. He can speak for himself, but he and I already experienced what happens when he talks. Everyone interrupts him and doesn’t listen.”, M/n answered.

Raglan looked at Mike and then nodded after a few seconds. Then he looked back into the file of Mike.

“Your Employment Record really looks bad, you know that ?”, Steve asked him.

“I...I know...”, he replied lowly.

“Tire Zone, Sales Associate, two months, terminated. Insubordination. Media World, Custodial Staff, one week. It’s like you’re not even trying here.”

Mike looked away, feeling very awkward and frustrated with himself.

“Yet you sit before me, asking for help.”, Steve Raglan then said, looking back at Mike.

He was dead silent, while M/n was already hoping, that Steve will have at least ONE job for Mike.

“I’m just trying to figure out, who you are, Mr. Michael Schm-....”, Raglan interrupted himself and looked closely into the file.

Then he took a closer look at Mike and M/n was unsure what he should think of that. Then Steve put down the file and got up, looking at the two males.

“Coffee ?”, he asked.

Mike was confused.

“No thank you, I am not a big fan of Coffee, too bitter.”, M/n kindly declined.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement that M/n didn’t want any, while he made his way to his Coffee Machine.

“W-what ?”, Mike asked confused about this sudden change of behavior.

“Eh, would you like some...some Coffee, I made some Coffee.”, Steve replied to Mike.

“No, thank you.”, Mike replied a bit confused.

Steve poured himself a cup and then held his back to the two males for a short while.

“I’m-I’m gonna be brutally honest with you here, Mike.”, Steve started and then slowly turned around taking his time to get back to his seat, “Given your Track Record, your options...are gonna be extremely limited.”

“I’ll take any job you got-“, Mike started.

“No, look, I get that part.”, Steve quickly interrupted, “Um, it’s just...you know, it’s not that easy.”

Mike was now really hopeless. M/n took a deep breath and used one last thing, in hopes to sway Mr. Raglan’s mind a little bit and perhaps change his mind. One last chance, that Mike CAN’T screw up.

“Can you really do nothing about this ? One last chance for him, Mr. Raglan ? This is really urgent and important, not just to the community and him, but also for other, more pressing matters. Not even a minimum wage job ?”, M/n asked with a bit of desperation in his voice.

“Pressing matters ? How pressing ?”, Steve asked a bit curious.

He leaned forward and looked at the two males.

“Usually I don’t like bringing it up, but Mike has a huge Family problem. You see, he has a little Sister, she is underage and can’t work herself yet, so Mike is all alone in this. Parents are dead and he only has an Aunt. She doesn’t want anything to do with him and wants full custody of his little Sister, to get more monthly income for herself. So she only wants to use her for more money, Mike needs a job, no matter how little the pay is, to keep his Sister around.”, M/n explained vaguely.

Raglan leaned back in his chair, processing the information. He looked at Mike, who didn’t make eye contact.

“That explains why he looks so tired. The bills, the family issues and on top of that finding a proper job. That’s a lot of stress for you to take, Michael.”, Raglan said with respect.

“Mike is just fine...”, Mike replied softly, but still didn’t make eye contact.

Raglan looked at M/n.

“And you ? Do you help them out ?”

“As much as I can, but even I can only do so much. I am currently paying his bills, so he can stay in his house. I can continue doing that, but paying anything else, is even for me a problem. I don’t get money for three people, I get money for ONE person in my job. I’m glad that it is enough to pay two different rents and get me fed over the month. I can’t pay the babysitter, nor their food.”, M/n answered.

“So Mike is also in debt to you.”, Steve concluded.

“I am doing this, because he is my friend. He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“But if he would, how much does he already owe you ? Roughly guessed.”

M/n was in deep thought and then looked at Raglan with certainty.

“Roughly guessed he owes me nearly $5 000 already, but because he is my friend, he owes me nothing. I am not a gold digger, nor greedy.”, M/n said with an assuring voice.

It was for Mike. Michael was always afraid that M/n will hold that over him one day, so M/n tries to make sure, to always let him know, that he is not like that. Steve whistled softly and looked at Mike.

“You really are in trouble. You are lucky to have such a friend, Mike.”, Steve said and then rubbed his stubbled chin in thought.

After a while he sighed and looked at Mike.

“I have a job for you. But a fair warning, it’s nothing big.”

“What is it ? I’ll really take anything I can.”, Mike replied, hope in his voice.

“It’s a Security gig. Full disclosure: It’s not great. High turnover. That’s what we call it in the Business, but you get to be your own Boss. Sort of.”, Steve explained.

M/n and Mike looked at him, listening intently.

“And you only have to worry about one thing: Keeping people out. And-and, you know, keep the place tidy.”

“That’s two things.”, Mike replied.

M/n elbowed him roughly, making him wince.

“Ow...”, Mike replied softly and looked at M/n.

“Count it as ONE thing then and shut up. He is trying to help, so shut your smartass mouth up, Mikey.”

Steve was slightly amused, then he looked at the two.

“You want the job or not ?”, he asked Mike.

“How is the pay ?”, he asked.

“Not great, but the hours are worse.”, Steve told Mike.

Mike was quiet for a moment and then sighed softly, leaning back in his chair.

“I can’t do nights...”, he muttered.

“Hm ? What was that ?”, Steve asked.

“I...I can’t do nights. The babysitter won’t watch my Sister at nights and I can’t leave her all alone at home either...”, Mike explained softly.

There was a moment of silence, a heave silence. M/n was in thoughts and then sighed loudly.

“Look, you talk with Max about this. If she agrees to watch your Sis, then she is there, if she won’t agree....I will watch her.”, M/n suggested.

Mike and Steve looked at M/n and Mike stared at his friend for a long time in shock.

“I can’t do that to you, M/n. You already pay our bills and help me where you can with jobs. You will lose your own job if you also watch Abby now.”

“We would find a solution, Mikey. We always did, did you forget ? But you NEED a job and if this is the only one, you can get, right now, you can’t be picky.”, M/n told Mike.

Michael looked at M/n and then at Steve. He was conflicted. M/n sighed and looked at the Career Counselor.

“Do you perhaps have a card with your number on it, Sir ? Maybe Mike will have a clear answer, after he sorted everything out with the Babysitter. He is definitely interested, but he needs to sort things out first, so he can arrange everything quickly.”

“Of course.”, Mr. Raglan replied quickly and gave M/n his card.

The man took it gently.

“Thank you, Sir. We will make sure to give you a call, as soon as everything is arranged, so Mike can tell you the situation. Is there anything else, we would need to know about the Security job ?”

“Hah...just don’t fall asleep on the job.”, Steve replied.

M/n smiled and then chuckled.

“He won’t sleep on the job, I promise you that. If he does and someone catches him doing so, I will kick his ass personally.”, M/n joked.

Steve chuckled and smiled.

“That is good to hear. Well then, it was nice seeing you and I hope everything works out.”, Mr. Raglan said and got up, stretching his hand out for a handshake.

The two males got up and Mike shook his hand first.

“Thank you, Mr. Raglan.”, he said and then left.

M/n shook the older man’s hand next, but didn’t leave yet. He looked if Mike was still near the door, which he wasn’t and then leaned closer to Steve, to whisper to him.

“Mr. Raglan, can I leave you my phone number ? I know Mike’s Aunt and she will most definitely show up here and get information about Mike and where he works, without having any rights to do so. She is the kind of person who loves to sabotage Mike’s life. I would just leave my number here, for you, to call me if she showed up and wanted something. This will then be used in court against her. She has no rights to snoop around in his life.”

Mr. Raglan looked at M/n and gave him a small smile.

“Of course. May I ask, what is her name, in case I need to recognize her ?”, Raglan replied.

“Her name is Jane Schmidt. She is a blonde too and her facial expression screams arrogance. She always acts high and mighty and makes a show out of everything. She is mostly seen with her lawyer, Doug. You will know it’s him, when you see him. An average sized man and has a very full figure. I am NOT kidding. But he is a kind man usually, just spaces out a lot.”

The Career Counselor nodded and wrote the descriptions down, while M/n wrote down his phone number on a separate piece of paper.

“Alright noted.”, Steve replied.

“And here is my number.”, M/n said and gave Raglan the piece of paper.

He took it.

“So if she shows up here or calls us and asks about Michael Schmidt, I should call and notify you and not give out any information to her, right ?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Okay. I will notify the rest of the staff, so no one will let anything slip out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Raglan.”

“Steve and you are welcome.”

M/n smiled and nodded. Steve couldn’t help but feel attracted to this man. But he knew that he couldn’t. He may be Bi, but this boy seemed to be straight.

Then Mike came back and looked into the office.

“M/n, are we leaving or what ? We still have to go shopping and I have to get home to Abby.”

“In a minute Mikey. Give me just one more minute. I am wrapping something up with Mr. Raglan here.”, M/n replied kindly.

“Okay. See you at the car then.”

“See ya.”

With that Mike left and M/n looked at Mr. Raglan again.

“If there is anything else, just call me too, yes ? If Mike did something stupid that you heard of, tell me and I will sort everything out, if something happened on his job or under his watch, I am always there to be contacted. Most of the times it is a misunderstanding or his Aunt was trying to sabotage him, that happened at the Media World job. She arrived, made a scene and then he got fired. She has her connections.”

The Career Counselor nodded.

“Of course, noted.”

M/n nodded to and gave him a small smile.

“Thank you, Steve. This means a lot.”

Then he left the room and Steve slumped back down in his chair. His heart was racing, he felt warm and he was a bit excited.

‘Shit...not on the fucking job...’, Steve groaned in his head.

M/n did it to him, BAD.

Masterlist

#male!reader #fanfiction #fnaf #afton family #Steve Raglan/William Afton x Reader #William Afton x Reader #Steve Raglan x Reader #Purple Guy #FNaF Movie #five nights at freddy's #Michael Schmidt #Part 1 – Steve Raglan #How to turn a Killer into a Bunny – (FNaF Movie)William Afton x Male!Reader

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 3 months

Text

Man, Myth, Legend

You waited and waited and waited some more until Jethro’s voicemail began playing.

“He thinks he’s so clever,” you grumbled to yourself as you sent him a text. Not like he would respond back but at least your two cents was thrown in there.

It was bad enough he made you stay behind with Tony instead of joining him, Ziva and McGee to his HOMETOWN. But now he wants to ignore your calls too? Granted, the calls would have only been you pestering him with all kinds of questions but nevertheless, he should still pick up the phone. What if you were in danger?!

“C’mon Probie. Let’s see if Abby has anything for us,” DiNozzo stated while walking by.

You locked your phone and huffed in annoyance before joining him in the elevator.

“You can stop calling me that Tony. I’ve been working with you guys for like a year now.”

“I know. But I just love how much it bugs you.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and followed after him once the doors opened.

Abby gave you two the rundown on the blood analysis before McGee’s face popped up on her screen.

“Gibbs has a father!”

You ran over with Tony while they gave all of you the much needed info on the Gibbses. Jethro had told you he grew up in Stillwater and wasn’t exactly the towns poster child but he never really spoke more than that, let alone about his father.

“I’m coming. I’m leaving,” Tony stuttered.

“Well you’re not going without me,” you added.

“Not unless you’ve found a way that people in town might have thought Ethan LaCombe was alive,” McGee answered right back.”

————

You and Tony sat in the Bullpen, throwing different questions each others way as you wanted for your next orders.

“So do you think he like got ran out of town and that’s why he hasn’t been back?” Tony asked, tapping a pen against his mouth in thought.

“I don’t know but I wouldn’t put it past him if it were true. Do you think his high school girlfriends still live there?”

Tony gave you a puzzled look which you quickly defended.

“I mean I’m just curious since most small town people don’t really move out past their county.”

“I doubt he’s dinner dating with any of his past flings probie. Plus, how is it you don’t know anything about Gibb’s past but you two are together?”

“You know he doesn’t talk much. Especially about his past. It was like pulling teeth when I asked him where he was born!”

As if his ears were burning, your phone began ringing as Jethro’s face popped up on your screen. Making a face for Tony to be quiet, you answered.

“Oh, look at that, you know how to call people all of a sudden.”

“I was busy. Talking with people,” he justified.

“People like your dad? Or the townspeople? McGee said you’re already ruffling feathers.”

“Well McGee needs to stop gossiping. I talked with Chad Winslow and his family. They’re hiding something. I want you and DiNozzo to get a search warrant together for blood samples and financial records.”

“Uh. A please would be nice.”

“Please. Honey,” he charmed, making you smile like a school girl. You’d do anything for him if he added those words afterwards.

“Much better. I’m assuming you won’t be home tonight?”

“No. We’ve got a lot of work to do here and I don’t see anyone being cooperative any time soon.”

You silently pouted but Jethro knew you like the back of his hand.

“Don’t pout. You, Abby and DiNozzo can come tomorrow afternoon. We’ll need help executing those warrants once they’re approved and Abby will need to examine the blood quickly.”

You beamed with excitement, catching Tony’s attention. You both said your goodbyes and Tony came over to give you a high five.

“I’m driving though. You suck at obeying the speed limit,” he established.

“That doesn’t count! Baskin Robbin’s was closing in 10 minutes and you encouraged me!”

————

We pulled up to the scene of the crime as smoke was still slowly coming from the wreckage. Thank God no one was in the car when it exploded. Jethro hasn’t even been in town more than 2 days and people are already trying to blow him up!

You gave McGee and Ziva a greeting before following Tony in the little store. It was stuffy and warm but the place was cute with all the natural lighting and small town vibes.

You and Tony saw an older man standing behind the register whom you could only assume was Jethro’s dad based on the eyes.

Just as Tony went to introduce himself, Jethro came from the back and interrupted. As they both talked, you made your way over to the counter.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Jackson Gibbs. Leroy told me about you but he left out just how stunning you were,” he flirted as you two shook hands.

“I see where Jethro gets his charm from.” you two chuckled together before Jethro came over looking displeased.

We took the rental to Jackson’s house as he led us to the garage where the most beautiful Dodge Charger sat.

“That’s right. I said we.”

You hopped in the backseat as Jethro peeled out onto the street like a bat out of hell, passing the shocked faces of the team and sporting the biggest grin on his face.

At the Winslow house, Jethro advised you to stay behind with Senior.

“Fine by me. Someone’s got to tell me what the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs was like as a kid,” you jested as he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

You sat on the porch steps with Jackson as he started the conversation first.

“I’m glad Leroy found someone again. You know after Shannon and Kelly, I thought he’d never find love again. But you seem to make him happy.”

“I try. And he makes me happy. It hasn’t been years but I think we’re good for each other.”

“I just don’t understand how you two even came about. Someone like you, so beautiful and elegant should be dating someone similar. Like that DiNozzo guy.”

You laughed at the thought of you and Tony together.

“Jethro is much more sensitive and approachable than people think. And Tony? No, he’s far too..rockstar for me. Jethro just has that personality that grounds you and uplifts you at the same time. I’ve never felt it with anyone before.”

“Spoken like someone truly in love,” he stated with a smile.

You blushed at the thought and you two continued talking until it was time to leave.

Back at the store, McGee and Abby went over their findings as you stood next to Jethro, your hand brushing against his. You saw a small smirk appear on his face as he listened.

It wasn’t long before you guys had enough evidence to arrest Nick Kingston and his 2 accomplices and telling the awkward news of Ethan being Emily’s brother. You all stayed the night at Jackson’s place as he told you all stories of his great adventures before leaving the next morning.

“You’ve got a good one here Leroy. Don’t let her go,” Jackson praised to his son as he looked at you.

“Oh I don’t plan on it.”

You gave Jackson a farewell hug as he gave the Charger keys to Jethro and stuck your tongue out at Tony when you were the chosen passenger.

In the car, you pulled him in for a kiss and smiled. “I like your dad. We should come see him again soon.”

Jethro just shook his head and smiled before driving off.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #jackson gibbs #gibbs request #ncis request

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princesssmars · 1 year

Text

she can fight.

an abby anderson x reader

while out on an outing with your girlfriend, some vloggers decide to make you their next target. luckily your girlfriend can handle it.

wc: 792

contains: cursing sorry im a sailor. reader is described to have hair. those stupid vloggers youtubers whatever that go up to people and ask dumb ass questions. said bloggers hitting on you icky. abby being a sweet bodyguard girlfriend. me being obsessed with her.

a/n: i haven't been this obsessed with a white woman since my vi phase of early 2022 nobody look at me.

you had thought prior to this point that you were a moderately lucky person. you had a loving family and friends, a caring and incredibly attractive girlfriend, and if she and most other people on campus had any say, you were pretty fucking hot. so in short, life was pretty good. until today.

abby was the one to ask you to come with her today, telling you how she needed some new gear and clothes for sports and working out. you weren't gonna say no to spending some more time with your girlfriend, especially when she offered to buy you a new purse.

after a bit of shopping in the outdoor mall, you start to feel a bit hungry right as abby says she has to use the bathroom. you tell her that you're just going a minute's walk away to catch you both a quick bite to eat, the blonde reminding you of her favorite order and ruffling your hair before she walks away laughing at your pout.

so you're sitting at a table in the square, already indulging in your meal and sneaking a quick bite of abby's when you feel a quick tap on your shoulder. turning around, you're met with two boys, one further back with a camera that seems to be recording and another who seemed to be the tapping culprit who has his phone up to his mouth.

"hey, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" he asks, pointing the phone in your direction. you'd seen people like this on tiktok before, coming up to people in public and annoying them. normally you wouldn't be for it but you decided to indulge them since you were getting pretty bored waiting for abs.

"no problem, fire away."

at first, the questions are weird but simple. basic ones like "how many stars are on the flag?" and "what's the craziest thing you've done in the past year?". throughout the questions, you noticed your interviewer constantly and not at all subtly checking you out, and you weren't surprised he couldn't detect how you were steadily becoming more pissed off. after a particularly dumb question you put an end to it, telling the boy how you need to get back to your snacking.

right when you turn away to sit back down you feel a hand grip your arm, your face completely bewildered at the audacity of this man to touch you. he seems to notice your unease and lets up slightly before asking, "can we just ask one more question?"

frankly done with his bullshit but now wanting to piss him off and get yourself into trouble, you relent with a sigh through your nose and nod your head.

"can your boyfriend fight?"

it takes everything in you to hold back your laugh but you fail, a surprised giggle falling past your lips. the guy seems to take it as you giggling like he's being charming and it makes you laugh harder. you calm yourself down enough to answer when you feel a familiar presence behind you along with the scent of pine and you can't help but smirk.

"nope, but her girlfriend can."

the man's grip on your arm disappears so quickly you would have thought he had been burned and the scared look on his face is one you definitely won't be forgetting soon. abby's arm wraps around your waist as she tugs you against her body away from the vloggers, who are currently stumbling over themselves and apologizing to her for hitting on you.

"dont apologize to me, morons, apologize to her." she scoffs, already sick and tired of talking to these people who had the audacity to hit on her girl so rudely. the boys quickly do as she says, apologizing for bothering you before taking their leave to probably bother some other poor soul.

you turn in abby's arm, ready to laugh about the encounter when her other large hand cups your cheek and brings your lips to hers in a passionate kiss. its so quick you barely get to kiss her back before she pulls away, smiling down at your dazed face with that stupidly sweet but smug look on her face.

"you feelin' alright there, baby?"

you nod your head slowly which only goes to amuse her more, the girl grasping your hand in hers as she sits down at your previous little table and pulls you into her lap, ignoring your whines about pda as she asks you to feed her some of her fries since she can tell you ate some already.

the rest of the day was spent giggling and spending time with your sweet idiot-repellant girlfriend, so maybe your luck was turning for the better.

if i don't meet an abby clone in college i will literally eat 800 apple seeds

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us x reader #abby anderson fluff

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deblklesb · 1 year

Text

Lights, Camera, Action! — Abby × Reader × Ellie Oneshot

[established relationship (abby x reader), ellie is their friend, MDNI]

cw: name calling, mentions/descriptions of sex tapes and its contents, kinda pervy characters (?? i guess, idk), beginning of threesome, ellie centered

word count: 3.2k | not proof read

a/n: so this was..... something. i decided to leave it there, i couldn't write anything more due to the amount of college demands but i sure had fun while i could write it!! hope y'all enjoy it, like and reblog! (p.s.: I'm posting it in a rush i should be sleeping by now bc i have to wake up in some hours but i absolutely will answer the asks you've sent me!! i love them, thank y'all for being so nice and sweet! please take care!)

This was a very tricky situation, and Ellie kept thinking to herself how the fuck did she got stuck into it. If you asked her she would be able to answer that, actually, but thinking back, it wasn't a good idea. Not when she felt so massively attracted to both you and Abby.

Now the full video rolling in front of her, on her computer, made a hard blush possess her freckled face. Hands shaking a little bit, stomach twirling, sweat dripping down her back as she heard your moans for the millionth time that night and saw Abby's tongue lapping your wet pussy over and over. She didn't know if she wanted to be you or her, both scenarios seemed too good to be true. The way her heart beat so hard together with her own cunt pulsing.

See, Ellie took some cinema introduction classes. Theory and a bit of practice too. And her friends, who were dating for more than a year now, asked her to film them a sex tape.

"W-what?!", the brunette almost choked with her sandwich, coffing furiously to escape that question.

You handed her the juice box, waiting patiently for her reaction to double down. When her green eyes laid on you with astonishment still, you got into how you and Abby wanted to record some sort of sex tape, to keep it to yourselves anyway.

"And why are you asking me?!"

"Because you're the most qualified for this job", you shrugged like it was nothing. Like you didn't just ask Ellie to watch her two friends having sex, fueled by the fact that someone was recording it. "Besides, we trust you!"

"... This is crazy, d'you know that?"

"We'll handle it. Don't kinkshame" She gulped after Abby's words and the way you eyed her.

Kinkshame you? Little did you know that she was doing it to herself.

During the filming, she nearly fainted. It took her a lot of strength to keep the camera steady and her hard breaths contained so it didn't come into the recording. Although a microphone stood next to the bed, the device on her hands still captured sound.

Sweating and working hard to ignore the growing wetness inside her pants, she didn't want to seem like some kind of pervert. You both trusted her for this, and so looking like some aroused observer wasn't right. Needing to keep professional - was that the word you used? - and not in the slightest horny as fuck.

She saw how Abby ate you out, and wanted to be there. Saw how you humped your girlfriend's thigh, and wanted to be there. Her hand itched to touch your flesh as you were sitting on Abby's face, and to grab Abby's hair while she moaned due to your tongue on her pussy. It was pure madness.

She walked away from that apartment with legs so weak she was surprised she didn't fall. And to her embarrassment, she touched herself and came so hard on her bed, imagining you both together. Feeling bad afterwards, but not enough to stop thinking about all the things she saw.

And now, two days later, here she was. Editing the recording in order to make this an incredible sex tape, the best to ever exist. She used a mobile camera, but also two others from different angles, so there was a lot of material to organize and synchronize, crop and assemble.

She needed to take some time to calm herself, but before she could actually do it there was a knock on her door. Her hand flew to the notebook faster than ever, putting the screen down almost entirely while her door opened to show her friend and roommate.

"Hey, me and Jess are going to order pizza. Want some?", Dina asked, resting on the door.

"Uh- yeah, sure" Ellie nodded, gulping and looking around like she was caught in the middle of something forbidden.

"Why do you look like you're doing some shit?" Her face warmed when your moan sounded on her headphone again.

At this point she already knew what was happening on the video: Abby had you legs open on the bed, rubbing her pussy against yours. The image was sinful, but oh so beautiful.

"I'm doing nothing", the freckled girl closed the computer, now interrupting the video. "Or something. I-I mean, anything could be some shit. What are you talking about?"

"Ellie" her friend's smile was slick, Dina knew just how to make the woman want to disappear from the Earth. "Were you watching porn?"

"N-no!", yes. Yes she was. That was definitely some filthy porn. Not because it had extreme content, but just the fact that it was her friends and crushes there, made her feel a hundred percent more aroused. "Shut up, Dina!"

"Don't have to be so defensive about it", she laughed with hands in the air, watching as Ellie got up from the bed.

"Whatever, let's go eat, get out of my room"

Jesse heard the two of them arguing whilst coming from the bedroom, Ellie with her face so red it could almost be confused by a sunburn and Dina clacking.

"Ellie was watching porn!"

"I was not! What are you, fucking six?!"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Hands sweating and head full of conflictual thoughts, the brunette walked into the cafeteria holding her backpack so tight it seemed like she was carrying something illegal. She had an itch on the nape, an impression that everyone there knew exactly what she did.

Pretty sure that ginger girl knew Ellie got off on the memories of that day and the video, on the vision of Abby biting her lips as you pressed her swollen clit-

"Ellie!", she snapped out of trance with your voice, looking aerial in front of you and Abby. "Is everything okay?"

"You look like there's somebody stalking you", Abby frowned, eyeing the surroundings.

"No, it's fine, I'm just… Tired", well, that wasn't a lie since she had to stay awake to finish the editing after the college assignments.

"Did we bother you? I told you there was no need to rush, we could wait", you rested a hand on hers across the table after she sat, and all she could think was how your palms were soft and comfortably warm.

"Nah, it's cool. I just left things to the last minute so I hurried as much as I could"

And after all she wouldn't survive editing the video for one more night; might as well explode.

The vision of Abby's fingers loosely resting on your shoulder made her remember the way they invaded your pussy, fitting so perfectly there, enough to make you moan and call her name.

Ellie took the pen-drive from the inside pocket of her backpack and put it on the table in front of the couple, letting go like touching it made her skin burn.

"All edited, boss", she smiled as best as she could, hiding the desire to beg you both for something very explicit. "Enjoy the watch"

"Thanks, Els!", you smiled back with a lot of excitement, so beautifully, picking up the small object. "We would invite you to watch, but I guess you haven't forgotten, since you were there and had to see it again to edit."

Ellie froze.

What did you just say?

Her mind went blank after the mere possibility of sitting on your couch next to the both of you, just fucking watching a video of the most attractive couple having shameless, passionate sex.

She couldn't even say anything back, which caused Abby to chuckle slightly. Just like if she knew you were doing something devious.

"W-what-... I- I mean, I had to watch it again but I don't think I remember that clearly-", she stumbled on her words, trying to revert whatever impressions she may have passed. Shit, did you know?

"Damn, was it that bad?" Abby snorted out, an eyebrow going up.

"No! No-, it was great, it was amazing, I just don't think I, like, remember every single detail or something like that." That was a lie, she absolutely remembered.

"Huh. So would you want to come over to watch it with us? I mean, we need to give you feedback for your hard work, right?", you rested the chin on a hand, eyeing her with so much glee in your orbs that Ellie couldn't tell what the fuck did that mean.

"Sure, right! Yeah, feedback would be nice. To see if my work was good and all, guess I could use that", she couldn't care less about feedback.

"Unless you're already tired of seeing it, it would be comprehensible. Or if it's awkward somehow…", the blonde gestured softly, her voice sounding so good. Ellie was so distracted by the anxiety and the accumulated tension that she didn't even notice how you both were satisfied with her answers, guiding her through a sinuous path into a trap.

"No! I will definitely be there, absolutely cool. Nice. Good shit", she kept nodding back, taking a laugh from you now.

"Okay! Seven?"

"Lucky number!" Her smile was weak and she made finger guns. Fucking finger guns?, she asked herself.

"Yeah, I hope we have some luck for sure", Abby said, smiling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Dina, I will fucking die!" Ellie was almost screaming in the middle of the street, phone against her ear whilst she walked to the building you and Abby lived in.

"Could you chill a little bit?! It's just a movie! I know you're like head over four heels for them, but you've done this before. You'll get in, watch it, laugh, eat something, hang out. And then you'll come home"

"But it's not just a regular movie, it's-", she sighed and stopped on her tracks. Hiding was tiring as fuck, but she didn't know if she could tell someone, that was intimate. "Fuck, I need to breathe"

"That's what I'm saying"

"Right. Thanks, guess I'll just hang out, watch something, whatever you just said"

"Just be yourself, honey! You will do great! Jesse, tell Ellie she will do great"

"You got this, Els. Whatever happens, we'll have pizza when you come back"

"Yeah… Thanks, guys", the brunette smiled even though they couldn't see it, getting closer to the building. "I have to go, just got here"

"If you kiss them, message me right away!"

"I won't stop kissing them just to tell you"

"You'll definitely stop it to jump around and do a victory dance, might as well message me"

"Shut up", she chuckled and said goodbye before turning off.

With a last sigh, Ellie pressed the button to your apartment and waited for you to pick up after the buzz. Instead, the gate just unlocked with a loud noise, neither of you needed to answer the buzz to know it was her. The brunette entered the building, heart pounding.

"Hey, Ells!", you greeted her with that sweet smile of yours, hugging her briefly. All she could think about was how good you smelled, and how that pijama shorts left little to imagination - well, she knew what was underneath it, after all. Still… "Come on, Abs was just setting up the TV"

"Oh-, alredy?", you pulled her by the hand and closed the door, leading the way to the living room she already knew so well after hanging out there so many times.

"We're excited to see the effects of your amazing classes", Abby smirked, winking at Ellie with those beautiful eyes. She was wearing a simple shirt and sweatshorts, exposing those strong legs. It looked so sexy in an inexplicable way.

The three of you sat on the couch, you in between. Your legs rested on the blonde's thighs, large shirt covering the small pijama shorts. Contrasting, Ellie had pants and a flanel on.

The filming was very good, technically speaking. But even the most layman could notice how the mobile camera had not only an open view, but also focused on intimate aspects of the situation.

A long shot of you and Abby kissing passionately. Strong hands caressing your body and bringing back close memories of her touch. Abby bit your chin, and Ellie made sure to record closely her trail of kisses on your exposed neck.

There was also a close shot of your bodies approaching more and more, legs tangling, Abby's strong thigh between yours as you started to move and rub your core there with a tortuous rhythm.

Ellie's face started to warm again, she gripped the arm of the couch when you moan reverberated, as Abby palmed your breast and bit your neck slightly.

The minutes passed and you felt yourself getting hotter. Your girlfriends fingers resting on your leg made you squirm.

"I like the way you focused on the closeness", Abby said, getting a hum from the brunette next to you. "It almost feels like you're trying to connect with the moment."

Ellie gulped, a wetness distinctble on her pants.

As the film goes on, the Miller girl tried her best not to move, thinking that it would hide her aroused situation but only making more obvious for you how she felt. The small biting of her lip also caught your attention, as her emerald eyes locked on the screen, where you had legs open with Abby's hand making circling moves on your clit, while you both kissed.

Fuck, you felt the way your nipples were hardening right now, just thinking about how Ellie could've felt while editing that.

Abby tried her best not to fuck you right then and there, knowing just how Ellie felt about the view.

It was definitely a maddening situation for the three of you.

When you were moving your hips with euphoria, looking for that righ, moaning against your girlfriend's delicious lips on film, Ellie finally got up suddenly.

"I-... Have to go to the bathroom", as all she could say, before almost running into said place.

You and Abby hear the door closing, and finally you could let go a deep breath and hold tightly on the shirt Abby wore.

"I don't know if I can wait much more", you murmured. Her fingers trailed up to the middle of your thighs, you separating them a bit to welcome her there. The film was still on, and it made everything more intense.

"Wanna get going?", the way she smiled had you weak, squirming while she pressed your cunt.

Inside the bathroom, Ellie rested her hands on the sink and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She could swear she saw you by the peripheral view, smiling while looking at her. Like everything since the first night after filming, she had to convince herself it was just paranoia.

"It's okay, Ellie. They didn't notice. You can do this", she murmured.

Washing her face and breathing deeply again, she finally got out after drying herself and doing nothing about the wetness between her legs.

Turning off the bathroom lights, she thought a small moan she heard was kinda different, but the confirmation only came when she reached the living room again and saw you on top of Abby - not on the TV, though.

You were literally sitting on her lap, the shorts on the ground and a strong hand pressing your cunt above the pantie's fabric. Muffled moanings came between the kiss you both shared, just like the ones Ellie heard.

"Uh- I think I'mma get going, I don't want to-", her face was so hot and she probably was trembling. Her body urged not to go, but the rational part of her brain was judging her for standing there even though she just said she would go.

"Ellie-", you called her.

You moaned her name.

Her core clenched around nothing, pleading for her to go and touch the both of you.

Abby looked over your shoulder and used the free hand to slap your ass, bringing a louder moan followed by the - literally - pornographic sounds on TV.

That had to be a fucking dream, right? You couldn't possibly be asking for her to do something, right?

Right?

"I guess we scared her, princess", the blonde said, smirking.

"I thought you liked seeing us, Els", you declared while moving the hips on Abby's hand.

And then it hit her.

It was all a fucking trap.

You knew exactly what she thought. Asking her to film you both having sex was no coincidence, not an occasional situation that so happened to have Ellie included, it was deliberated. Fuck, you were exhibiting yourselves to her and she fell like a moth hipnotized by the beautiful flame.

"Fuck, since when you've been planning this?", the brunette murmured, walking slowly towards the couch again. On the TV, Abby slapped your pussy as you came hard and drenched.

You felt a chill running down your spine as Ellie's slender fingers touched your shoulder, going up to your neck. Abby watched in awe as you had the hair being pulled slightly to look up, Ellie was testing the waters.

"This shit has been planned since the beginning?"

"Did you touch yourself looking at us later?", you asked, riding harder. Abby kissed your exposed neck, grabbing your ass while the other hand rubbed your pussy intensively. Green eyes filled with lust analized your features.

"Did you fuck yourselves thinking about me?"

Your smile was slick and you wanted to come so bad. The sounds from the video made you even hornier, needing to surrender completely.

Ellie did something she wanted to do for a long time: she kissed you. And it was intoxicating. Consuming her being from head to toes, oh, it lit a fire inside. It was messy and urgent, and when you both separated her lips were moisty. Then, she pulled Abby by the braid and did the same, their kiss being a bit more slow but not less intense; the gasoline that made the fire grow.

"Please, Els…", your voice came out whiney.

"She's been desperate for you", Abby chuckled with disdain, caressing your ass still partially clothed by the panties. "Almost begged me to fuck her in front of you today"

"Really?", the question wasn't for you, but you nodded. "I thought she was less of a whore"

After the video, she knew how you liked to be treated. And to be pretty honest, it matched what she loved herself.

"I'm gonna taste you, sweetie. Can I?", her fingers caressed your face, contrasting with the way you were humping hard Abby's hand. Nodding again, you started to feel more and more excited with the sounds from the TV.

"Shit, baby, your pretty cunt looks so good", Abby's voice filled the room from the video, you knew that was the part she made you sit on her face.

Ellie kneeled behind you, between Abby's spread legs. The blonde had a blushed face and breath hard, still touching you and having a hard time deciding where to look. She was wet, incredibly wet, and her pussy was aching.

"After that, I wanna taste you, Abs", Ellie's voice made her squirm and slap your ass again.

It was all so mind blowing. Her touches snake on your back, under the shirt, feeling your skin while she kisses your ass and hips. You stopped the movements, receiving Abby's lips on yours again as Ellie worshiped you. She grabbed your tits and bit your ass, causing you to sigh and smirk between the kiss. The temperature of the room rose.

"Get up and take these", she was referring to your panties, which she pulled just so it could snap back on your ass.

"And then sit back on my lap and watch the tape with me while Ellie tastes your cunt", Abby completed, grimacing with the wetness growing between her legs.

[dividers by @luvchaewon and @froopis]

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