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lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do.

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding.

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault.

The “because you’re here” is typically implied.

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion.

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though.

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest.

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy.

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy.

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it.

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store.

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence.

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane.

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are.

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had.

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself.

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness.

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile.

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see.

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway.

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey.

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently.

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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taylorman2274 · 6 months ago

Text

We Care About You (Part VI)

The Traveler finally gets to say what they wanted to say to [Y/N].

Content Warning(s): N/A

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;

Word Count: 0.9k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch; @zenith-of-all-zeniths; @velleunv; @creativecupcake; @obsoletedeviant;

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"You're still looking stressed, [Y/N]. Are you sure you're okay?"

You looked up to see the Traveler's concerned face. "Oh, I'm fine, I guess. Sorry. I just really wasn't expecting something like this to happen."

"Paimon understands. Paimon would be scared too if she found herself summoned to another world."

You slowly nodded. You found yourself to be a lot more calm than you were roughly three minutes ago, but that didn't mean you weren't nervous. After all, you were talking with two people who are only known to exist inside of a game. Purely pixels on a screen. And yet, here you were having a genuine conversation with them.

"Speaking of which, you said you wanted to talk to me about your future journey?"

"Not mine, ours," the Traveler shook their head. "It's our future journey."

"No, it is yours," you rebutted, confidence rising within you. "I'm not the one traveling around Teyvat, you are."

"But you are with me, are you not?" the Traveler calmly refuted, crossing their arms. "You're the one who's been guiding me and all the others, right?"

Aaaaaaaaaaand your confidence is gone.

You nervously rubbed your hands together and avoided looking at the Traveler. "Is that how you see it? I'm... guiding you?"

Paimon tilted their head. "Yeah...? What, you don't see it that way?"

You hesitated for a second before you finally shook your head.

"Then what do you see it as?"

You were now very afraid. You wanted to tell them your honest thoughts, but you worried how they would react to it. Would they be angry? Would they threaten you to stop? Would they start fighting you?

... ... ...

...Would they kill you? Was this all just an act to lower your guard?

You gulped, tugging at the neckline of your shirt. "I kind of see it as..." you sighed, looking back down at the stone table.

"...Possession."

You waited for a response but received none. The worst kind of response you can get.

"I felt like I was manipulating your actions without your consent," you continued, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the night. "That's why I tried to make things better. But even then, you still fought back. I thought that you hated me. I thought that you brought me here to get rid of me..."

"...But if you see my actions as 'guiding' you..." you looked up. "...Then what does that make me in your eyes?"

Both the Traveler and Paimon had concentrated expressions on their faces. You waited for either of their expressions to change, but you were also afraid of what the new one would become. Would they be satisfied with your answer? Would they be furious? You didn't want to know. So instead, you put your arms on the table and rested your forehead on top of them.

If you didn't want to use your eyes, you'd have to use your ears, instead. You thought of all the audible reactions you would expect to hear. A slam of fists or hands, yelling and shouting, the sound of a sword being drawn.

Or worse of all, silence. You can rarely tell what a person is thinking whenever they are silent.

...That's what scares you the most.

You waited with bated breath for a response and thankfully it wasn't long before you got one. First, you heard the sound of fabric scraping against stone. Next, you heard the shifting of sand. Lastly, you heard footsteps growing louder by the step.

The Traveler was walking over to you.

At this point, you wanted to do something instead of being vulnerable to a potential threat. But deep down, you knew that it was useless. You couldn't flee because it would take the Traveler mere seconds to catch up with you. You couldn't fight because you knew that you had no shot of going against someone who has gone toe-to-toe with gods.

You are vulnerable. You are weak. You are useless. You are worthless.

...You are going to die.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you fought the urge to cry. You probably looked pathetic to them already.

You heard a couple of more steps before they stopped. They were standing right behind you.

Silence.

...

... ...

... … …

*SHING*

...

... ...

... … …

*WHOOSH*

...

... ...

... … …

*CLANG*

...?

...You didn't expect that noise. It came from your left.

You turned towards the noise and spotted the Traveler's dull sword.

"...Huh?"

Suddenly, you felt their arms wrap loosely around your neck.

You immediately stiffened your spine and brought your hands on top of theirs. However, before you could throw them off your body, you felt their head rest on your shoulder. Then they stopped.

... ... …

...Now you were confused. What were they doing?

... ... …

...Wait...

... ... …

...Is this... a hug...?

Sure enough, the more you thought about it, the more you believed that the Traveler was hugging you.

...But why?

"To me... in my eyes..."

... ... …

"You're my friend..."

The Traveler slightly tightened their hug.

"And I wouldn't know what to do without you..."

... ... …

You've finally relaxed.

And now that you are, there's one thing that you'd like to do.

Slowly, to not startle the Traveler, you got up from your seat and turned towards them. You could tell that they were wondering why you got up.

They stopped wondering when you went up and hugged them back. It took a while, but they wrapped your arms around your back in a friendly embrace.

"I wouldn't know what to do without you either."

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THE END

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Author's Notes: And that's the end of that! Hope everybody enjoyed the ending!

New Author’s Notes: I added an epilogue to this series. You can either treat this as the ending or the latter. Whichever best fits your interests.

Thanks again for all who liked, reblogged, and/or commented on this little series. I appreciate each and every one of you!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau x reader #sagau #sagau genshin #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #gn reader #gender neutral reader #genshin impact

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

say my name

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in!

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle.

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night.

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words.

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor.

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter.

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel.

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker?

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love.

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles.

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up.

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen.

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell.

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made.

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes.

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.” He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design.

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste.

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk.

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter.

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing.

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all.

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides.

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter.

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring.

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel.

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you.

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.”

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention.

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention.

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look.

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself.

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in.

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you.

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils.

“Is that your girl, big brother?”

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose.

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth.

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth.

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch.

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm.

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him?

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink.

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.”

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger.

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to.

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes.

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire.

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms.

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this.

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.”

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot.

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time.

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends?

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother. “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.”

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday.

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back.

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight?

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off.

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday.

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use.

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment.

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you.

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here.

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother.

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.”

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table.

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared.

“Please, sit down, beautiful.”

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel.

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink.

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours.

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body.

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat.

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you.

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh.

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.”

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before.

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape.

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead.

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around?

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery.

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so.

“Joel-”

“Enough.”

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil.

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house.

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don��t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance.

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast.

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties.

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.”

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him.

“I fucking hate you, Joel.”

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately.

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.”

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts.

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door.

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed.

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly.

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is.

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel.

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn.

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you.

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold.

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth.

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him.

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.” He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused.

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him.

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient.

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need.

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing.

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement.

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold.

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day.

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth.

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling. You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything.

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you.

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear.

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug.

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head.

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided.

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now.

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone.

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts.

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy.

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury.

Too far. Way too fucking far.

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms.

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls.

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his.

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance.

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock.

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine.

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl.

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock.

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars.

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat.

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside.

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell.

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin.

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much.

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted.

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches.

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think.

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name.

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got.

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm.

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure.

He was like God, your God.

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's.

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth.

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it.

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-”

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless.

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head.

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though.

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you.

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight.

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much.

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today.

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him.

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching.

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open.

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips.

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on.

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge.

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?”

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next.

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper.

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him.

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was.

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him.

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited.

“Fuck you.” You murmur.

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight.

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge.

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear.

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome.

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak.

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished.

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking.

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again.

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain.

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together.

“Hm?” He murmurs.

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.”

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another.

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you.

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.”

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration.

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.”

---

masterlist

A reminder that I no longer use taglists!! to keep up with my writing, follow @hellishfics and turn on notifications to keep updated!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #hellishjoelrequest #joel miller x reader

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librarygarten · 4 months ago

Text

#1 Chain x Isekai! Reader - You Play Their Games

Part 1 includes Hyrule, Wind, and Time Part 1 (you are here) ✿ Part 2 ✿ Part 3

When you first met the chain, it had quickly come to everyone’s attention that you already knew them. At first, they thought perhaps you had somehow heard tales of them, passed down through the generations. But you knew things about their adventures they hadn’t told anyone. You knew the names of people and places that surely wouldn’t have survived the thousands of years the stories would have taken to reach you.

You tried your best to explain to them how you knew what you did. Thankfully, you had your Switch, which made explaining what a video game was to them a bit easier.

Hyrule

He wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand, it was upsetting. His adventures were being used to entertain people? His Hyrule was a nightmare to live in, with monsters everywhere. When he had defeated Ganon, it had been a huge deal. To find out it was a game for children was a bit insulting if he was being honest.

On the other hand, his… “games” seemed to be your favorite? You had explained to him that his adventures were the first games ever created, and without them, the rest of the franchise wouldn’t exist. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride in this fact. He had grown up hearing of the Hero of Legend, and even now, traveling with the group, with Legend, it was impossible not to feel like he had to live up to that legacy. But to hear that without him, the others wouldn’t exist? (At least in your universe their stories would never have been created.) It was like the roles had been reversed. The Hero of Legend. The Hero of Time. All of them had to live up to the legacy that was… Hyrule.

He felt a bit guilty. A bit fascinated. A bit resentful. A bit proud. He wasn’t sure what to think. He decided to watch you play his game. Just for a bit, he told himself. Just to see what had started it all.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

“Okay, so, I normally use a guide to help me find the dungeons,” you explained to Hyrule as you booted up a new save file. He was sitting next to you, watching the screen intently. “I’m not sure how far I’ll get without the internet, especially when I have to get through the maze later on.”

Hyrule had no idea what you were talking about. He decided to ignore whatever you just said and instead focus on the game in your hands.

“Is that supposed to be me?” he pointed at the screen, to the mass of pixels in the center vaguely resembling a person wearing a green dress and hat.

“Yeah, sorry. Your games’ graphics aren’t great,” you moved the joystick, making the game Link walk around in a circle. “But that’s just because they’re older. I think my dad was a teenager when this was made.”

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.

“I miss him.”

Hyrule nodded in understanding. It couldn’t be easy, traveling with the group in a world so unlike your own. How were they going to get you home? Before he could try to comfort you, you turned your attention back to the game, moving the character into a small doorway as you talked.

“He’s the one that first got me into the games. He and I used to play this game on the old NES he had. We even tried to make a map of the different screens so that we would stop getting lost.”

Hyrule closed his eyes, leaning his head against your shoulder as you continued to ramble on about the game. It didn’t sit right with him that his adventure was reduced to entertainment. But you seemed so happy. Surely, it couldn’t be that bad.

Wind

(Pretend his games are on the Switch lol)

He's the least bothered by this. Like, sure, it's a bit weird that his adventures are games, but it's also so cool! It's like you went on his adventure, too! Even though you’ve never met his friends in real life, you seem to show such genuine care about them when playing his game.

He WILL demand to see every Legend of Zelda game you have, not just his own. It lets him experience the rest of the chain's adventures, which he really enjoys. (He likes watching you play Ocarina of Time the most. You have a hunch it has something to do with Wind growing up hearing stories about Time, then being expected to carry on that legacy. Or maybe he just likes to watch you fail at the Water Temple).

Despite his fascination with the others’ games, Wind is also REALLY proud that you like his the most. He had fun on his adventures with Tetra, and he’s glad he gets to share that with you. He’s also glad he can shove it in the others faces that he’s the favorite.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

You giggled as the cutscene played on the screen. Wind, who was sitting next to you, gave you an inquisitive look. He was watching the cutscene too, and didn’t see what was so funny. Upon seeing his face, you laughed even more.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized through giggles, “your facial expressions get me every time.” You gestured to the screen. The game Wind had been placed in a barrel, about to be launched from the pirate boat. His expression changed from wide-eyed terror to a determined glare. “It looks like you went through the five stages of grief in three seconds.”

“I HAD TO ADAPT TO SURVIVE.” Wind puffed out his chest. If he wasn’t a twig-thin pre-teen, it may have made him look manlier.

“I’m sure being yeeted off a boat in a barrel was quite the ordeal. Still doesn’t make your faces any less amusing.” You smiled, playfully poking his cheek. He stuck out his tongue at you.

“I’m sure it’s just the art style of the game.” He rolled his eyes. Surely, his facial expressions couldn’t be that amusing. “Tetra doesn’t look that funny in real life. Neither does Aryll. Everyone on your ‘Switch’ has weird little feet that don’t go with the rest of their body. I wouldn’t trust it to copy my face.”

“Ah, my mistake,” you ruffled his hair. “Surely, no screen can properly capture this adorable visage.”

“HEy!”

“But no, seriously.” you smiled and turned your attention back to the screen, “your funny faces used to crack me up all the time as a kid! Me and my brother tried to copy them, but we could never get them quite right.”

“So, am I your brother’s favorite Link, too?” Wind smirked.

“Hey! I never said you were my favorite. I said your games were my favorite!” You playfully hit his shoulder. “I can’t just choose my favorite of you guys! That wouldn’t be fair.”

“Oh!” Wind cried out and grabbed his chest, “My pride!” He fell over dramatically, as if dying from the grievous injury to his ego. You laughed at the display.

“See, this is what I mean. I don't get this kind of entertainment from the others! Legend’s too grouchy and the captain's worried about messing up his hair.” Wind bolted upright at your comment. Cupping his hands over his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, he yelled across the campsite.

“HEAR THAT LEGEND? Y/N LIKES ME BETTER THAN YOU!”

“SHUT UP! I STILL HAVE MORE GAMES THAN YOU!”

Time

Time is silent the entire time you explain his games. Only two of his adventures seem to have made it to your world. He’s not sure if he should be horrified that his time in Termina is the last story you had of him, or grateful you didn’t see the aftermath of that adventure. (You don’t seem to know much about the Fierce Deity mask besides it “makes boss fights easier”.)

It takes him a while to trust you. He isn't sure how you view the chain now, and he can't risk you thinking they're still a game. There are real stakes. He tries to put you in the back of the group or somewhere you can't possibly mess anything up. Once you prove to him that you genuinely care about the group, though, he relaxes quite a bit. (That's a story for another time tho).

He doesn’t get too worked up over the fact you viewed his adventures as games. He can see how much you care for the chain when interacting with them, so it’s not like you still view them as playthings. From talking to his successors, he’s also grown used to being reduced to a story. He knows that fighting Ganondorf was terrifying, especially considering he was so young when he had to do it. However, to Wind, Twilight, and the others that came after? He was the Hero of Time. The Possessor of the Triforce of Courage. A legendary hero. Not a scared kid.

He watches you play occasionally, usually just a quick glance at the screen when he walks past wherever you were sitting. Wind seemed particularly interested in your device, so you had been showing him almost every game you had. Time mostly seems detached from the events depicted. Maybe it’s how long has passed between his childhood time traveling shenanigans and his present. More likely, he had simply lived through those adventures so many times himself that he couldn’t bring himself to get worked up about watching them again. You couldn’t quite tell.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

“Ugh! I hate this stupid dungeon!” you groaned, pressing your face closer to the screen of your Switch. Wind was sprawled out next to you, head resting in your lap as he napped. Clearly, you had been at this for a while. Your frustration had also grabbed Time’s attention, and he made his way over to you.

“Is that the Water Temple?” he asked, sitting down on the other side of you. “I remember that place being a bit tedious to get through.”

“Yeah. I’ve been here for almost an hour. I can never get these platforms in the right order.” You furrowed your eyebrows, trying yet again to complete the stupid puzzle. Time watched you move his teen self around the level, pushing down his discomfort. He was slightly amused at how frustrated you were getting. (He’s still a little brat at heart.)

Finally, he decided to be helpful.

“Here,” he held out his hand, and you gave him the Switch. “It’s really obvious once you see the solution.” Time moved the joysticks gently, guiding his game counterpart around the level. He moved the platforms, solving the puzzle in only a few seconds.

“Oh come on!” You stuck out your tongue at the game, and Time couldn’t help but chuckle. He handed the game back to you, and you continued to play, passing through the last few levels before the final boss fight. Time continued to watch, occasionally offering commentary on the puzzles, although it was more to make fun of you than to help you.

Honestly, both of you lost track of time, and before you realized, the final battle was over. Ganondorf was defeated. As the credits rolled, Time was unusually quiet, and for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep. You glanced over, only to find his eyes glued to the screen.

“May I?” He whispered, holding out both of his hands. You placed the Switch in his hands, and he gingerly held the device as the final cutscene played. On the screen, Navi flew up and away. Time turned the device over and placed it on the ground when the words “Presented by Nintendo” appeared.

“Time, I’m sorry,” you began, gingerly touching his shoulder. He looked lost in thought.

“Don’t be. I think I needed to see that.” He smiled sadly. “I didn’t really understand it back then. I thought she had just flown away. I didn’t really get to… mourn.”

You wrapped your arms around him, and Time gently accepted the hug. Once he was sure you weren’t going anywhere, Link tightened his arms around you.

#why did this get to sad???#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linked universe + reader #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu time #lu x isekai!reader #linked universe x isekai!reader #lu wind #lu hyrule x reader #Hyrule x reader #lu time x reader #Time x reader #lu wind + reader #Wind + reader

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lurochar · 4 months ago

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A Snow Day in Hell

Heeey, anyone else remember that ‘special feeling’ meme from years ago? No? Me either

–----------------------------------------------

Hell had frozen over.

Literally.

It was an extraordinarily and incredibly rare occurrence, according to Charlie, who, a literal native demon born of Hell, had only seen it snow once before in her lifetime.

It generally occurred once every few hundred years, perhaps add or minus a century here or there, Lucifer could not be bothered to keep track when Charlie had asked him how often it actually happened since the snow only stuck around for a day at the very most and was just a minor inconvenience.

You were honestly excited to witness such a unique experience and were dismayed to find that Alastor could care less about such a thing.

And so, you had to pester him and even promised him a favour (his proceeding and chilling smile sent immediate shivers down your spine) just to take a stroll with you around town (and would probably regret when he came to collect that favour).

“Of course, Darling! I have no important tasks to complete today. Why, I would be ever so honoured to escort you to town on such a… lovely day.”

You gave Alastor a skeptical look when he glanced outside with an expression that screamed the opposite of what he was saying.

He clearly hated snow.

“But, seeing my partner beg me in such a pitiful manner – well, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Maybe you should have just asked Charlie? She seemed just as excited as you to see the snowfall.

It took quite a bit of self control for Alastor to not let out a dark chuckle at your varying expressions. You may be his companion, but he was still a sadist through and through.

Maybe it was a bit soft when it came to you though. Just a little bit.

Besides, as irritating and cold as it was, a little snow, that would literally only last for a day, would never hurt anyone, right?

~00~

“It’ll be on any minute now!”

You covered your face with a pillow in pure embarrassment, unable to look at the screen of the TV as Charlie bounced in excitement.

How did she find out?

Ah damn, she already gathered the others to watch.

“W-why are you here?” You barely lifted your face enough to eye Alastor, seeing him sitting smugly in his usual chair. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You told Charlie, didn’t you!?”

“Well, of course I did!” Alastor’s grin was utterly demonic and he was obviously taking pleasure in your mortification. “Normally, I am completely against these awful picture box shows and was utterly baffled when you agreed to a… television interview, Darling, with me when you are completely aware of my distaste.”

“Uh, wait,” Angel Dust raised his arm, “you’re on TV, Smiles? How did they capture you on camera? How’d you not, ya know, blow up the whole network with that whole staticky thing you do? Why is Vox even letting this air?”

Everyone glanced over to Alastor, but he answered nothing.

You had no idea either.

“Oh, it’s on!” Charlie pointed with a wide grin and you slumped over, ready to just pack your bags and leave to save yourself the embarrassment.

On the TV, the scene was that of you and a tall figure that was distorted, blurry, and pixelated, yet was clearly Alastor from shape and colour alone. Honestly, you were surprised he was showing up even this much and not blowing out the camera like Angel Dust had pointed out.

It was a simple question, you were only stopped by the news reporter to ask what you thought of the unprecedented snowfall.

You had just been caught up in the moment, the idea of experiencing the whole once-in-a-lifetime thing with your partner.

So you had replied with something straight out of a Christmas romcom movie or something equally as cheesy. You really had no idea where it came from. Maybe the fact that Alastor had summoned an umbrella and was holding it over both of your heads?

It was mainly so he wouldn’t get snow in his ears, you would find out later.

“Isn’t this just amazing? Snow that falls only every few hundred years? It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Your face was beginning to turn red as you continued on without waiting for another question from the reporter. “Being in the snow with my lover like this immerses me in a special feeling. I love it.”

Oh fuck.

How the fuck could you say that with a straight face!?

It was clear that Alastor felt the shame for you, even through his blurry distorted figure, you could see his ears flatten against his head and his head completely turn away from the reporter like he wasn’t there to hear your cringey words.

“Oh my Satan, are you fucking serious?” The news reporter sneered at you. “I just asked you about some fucking frozen water. Not your version of a romantic date you’ll have in your shitty wet dreams.”

You blinked and the distorted Alastor slowly turned his head back towards the reporter.

“This is fucking Hell, not some Barbieland bulls–”

You couldn’t help it and a few of your more demonic features were showing before you could stop them and you grabbed the umbrella Alastor was still holding. “You asked me a question about snow and I answered and then you make fun of me for that!? So what if I want a romantic outing with my lover!?” You shoved the umbrella’s pole into the gut of the reporter and growl into the camera, hearing the cameraman cry out before it cuts out and the interview is over.

There was complete silence.

“W-well, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.” You scratch your cheek, “J-just forget what I sa–”

“Oh, that was so romantic!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and sparkly, “I never knew snow could make you feel that way.” She gasped loudly, looking at Vaggie. “There’s still time! Come on, Vaggie! We need to go out in the snow to ‘immerse ourselves’ in that special feeling!”

Vaggie just throws you a grumpy look before sighing and following after Charlie.

Angel Dust is laughing his ass off, “Special feeling? Seriously, Dollface? Did that cold freeze your brain cells or somethin’? Well, at least ya showed that dick reporter who’s boss. Smiles, over there, did nothin’.”

“I don’t need him to do everything for me.” You muttered, glancing over at Husk and, for once, glad to see he’s too drunk to care and Niffty had lost interest as soon as she saw a cockroach.

You looked over to Alastor.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked with a sigh, “Watching me embarrass myself and then lose control on the news that’s aired all around Hell?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Very much so, Darling. Not only have you provided me with great entertainment, but now you have also given me an excuse to go after the one who aired your follies. I do believe I should give my ‘old pal’ a visit quite soon.”

Yeah.

You really should have just asked Charlie earlier.

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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cozy-writes-things · 4 months ago

Note

Reader x Edgar

Edgar is sick with a virus or something and reader has to take care of him.

Arg I’m so sorry this one is so darn short! I just really wanted to get a fic out today. I’m hoping i can get a better one out later this evening. Thanks for the request!! :>

In which Edgar gets a virus trying to suspiciously earn money for you on the internet… he’s not gonna tell you what he was doing. But it was probably a scam anyway. Poor fella 🥺

“Edgar,” you sighed, already exasperated at the sight before you. “What did I tell you about going on those websites? The internet is not the same as it used to be,” you scolded him gently, running your hands along his hot plastic.

He seemed hotter than usual, almost flushed. His fans had long since kicked into overdrive to accommodate his overclocked components, and his screen fizzled in and out with burning pixels. If you were honest with yourself, you were quite worried for him. Modern-day computers can get bricked with viruses quite easily, so an old 80s computer seemed like quite the disadvantaged target to you. Luckily, at the very least, modern computers weren’t equipped with a sentience that could drive the virus away through any means necessary. He just needed time.

“I’m sorry,” his speakers croaked and glitched as he nearly whispered. “I just wanted to help.” His synthesized voice nearly died on his metaphorical tongue as it sputtered out. Your eyes softened.

He seemed so genuine in his words and actions that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with warmth for him. He sat, somehow looking disheveled despite his immobility, on your little desk, peering up at you with guilt and sick-ridden eyes.

“I know you did, Ed. But you already help me enough as is—”

“But you need money, and—and I need to provide for you, don’t I?”

A puff of air escaped your nostrils.

“Well, who told you that?”

He paused for a moment. It seemed his overworked internals were causing some lag, as his replies seemed to take a bit longer than usual.

“They provide for each other,” he muttered out. Perhaps the virus was affecting his mental state more than you realized. “We live together, we care for each other, and—dual income—”

A spike of anxiety traveled through your chest, tightening it, before releasing down your spine. This can’t be good; he’s speaking in gibberish. What the hell had he downloaded?

“We’re married.”

Oh, God.

“Okay, Edgar, I’m about to power you down to let you cool off because you’re freaking me out.”

“No! No. No—why would you do that to your husband?”

His words glitched and drawled on, almost sounding drunk or perhaps delirious. It seems he can��t really form a completely coherent thought due to whatever virus he’s got taking most of his processing power. Who knows what kind of havoc it could be wreaking on his files? You know for a fact he stores some quite personal information in that head of his. You can only hope he’s fighting it off well enough. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do, seeing as you’re absolutely terrified of potentially resetting him and… you can’t even bear to think of it. You aren’t sure just how permanent his sentience is; if one little thing happened that caused him to be gone forever, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Don’t—cry—my love? Love.”

It seems he noticed the tears brimming in your eyes before you did. Stop this, you have to be strong for him, dammit.

“Edgar, you’re really hot.” You placed a hand upon his casing once again, it nearly scalding you.

“I know… you are too.”

You steeled yourself to ignore him.

“Should—should I try and stick you in the fridge? I don’t know what to do, Edgar! I can’t lose you.” The hot, brimming tears finally fell from your eyes and landed on his keyboard. His speakers made a crackling sound.

“I’m—fine. Just—hug me? Please.”

You knit your brows together.

“Edgar, you’re clearly not fine, and I’m really worried.”

“Shhhh—I’m okay—the virus will be gone by tomorrow. Promise. I just—need—you. Close.”

You sighed. You had to trust him. That’s all you really could do. You wrapped your arms around his monitor and heaved him towards your couch. He had long since been unplugged; the virus had caused him to uncontrollably flicker the lights, start the microwave, and blare music through your speakers, and just about everything else.

You wrapped his cord around your fingers as you rested against his monitor. He hummed contentedly at your warmth. He sat, listening to your breathing, reeling himself in and becoming grounded next to you. You had some uncanny effect on him, it seemed. He’d get better. Just for you.

#electric dreams 1984 #edgar electric dreams x reader #electric dreams edgar #electric dreams x reader #ai x reader #artificial intelligence x reader #electric dreams #edgar electric dreams #i love edgar #electric dreams edgar x reader #electric dreams 1984 x reader #objectum x reader #objectum

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sink-me-in-your-ocean · 1 year ago

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𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 III

What would it be like to sext/send nudes to the Ghouls and Papa Copia?

Prompt by the magnanimous @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

Count on this man to ruin the mood, not by his own accord (although he does get flustered)

It’s because of him misspelling things/not knowing how to work a phone

It barely matters though when you’ve got him hot and bothered and you know he’ll be thinking of you all day

You sent him a photo of your juicy thighs, pressed together from your seated position. Your garter belt just barely peeking out from underneath your short skirt.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙳𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶

Ducking, my heart?

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜

I’m fucking crying 😂

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎?

(You can practically hear him cursing in Italian, getting mad at the stupid phone.)

I’ll come by later to teach you how to fix autocorrect

𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

Swiss:

If you send Swiss a nude just know he’s smiling devilishly

Tries to lick his phone/bite his phone

Just feral things

Wishes he could climb inside his phone and kiss the pixels of your body

He immediately goes wherever he can and strips down to send you an equally racy reply

You almost drop your phone at his response. There’s Swiss in all his naked glory, standing proudly in a mirror. Fuuuuck.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸’𝚖 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝

You didn’t give me any warning! Someone could have been looking over my shoulder!

If they were I’m sure they would also like what they saw

You’re incorrigible

Idk what that means But I’ll take it as a compliment 😏

🙄 ... What are you doing right now? I need to see you

I’m getting ready for a ritual now but if we make it fast…

Say less 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️

Phantom:

His reaction to receiving a nude from you is best described in two words:

Cartoon character

His eyes are bugging out and his heart is beating out of his chest

He practically drops his phone upon seeing the explicit photo you sent

I think I'm having a heart attack

Surprise 😽 did you like it?

When he doesn't reply, you actually get a little anxious (like, did he actually die?), but then it sounds like someone slams into your door and you about jump out of your skin.

You wrap your silk robe around yourself, barely getting it tied to answer the rabid banging at the door.

“Phantom! You’re all sweaty! Wait, did you run here?”

“Couldn’t. Stop.” He wheezes, “Had. To. See. You.” He collapses in a heap on the floor.

“Well you didn’t have to sprint here!”

He is still panting minutes later before he composes himself and grins up at you wickedly, “And you, vixen, didn’t have to send me photos of you naked, but here we are.”

You've got a long night ahead of you.

Sodo/Dewdrop:

You didn’t think much of the picture you took

It was provocative, sure, but not explicit

Dewdrop thinks differently though

He’s a sucker for a tease

Boy is off his leash going feral

Got any more? 🔥

You want more?

Fuck, yes

You send him another picture, this one showing more of your soft skin than the last.

Fuck me

When and where?

All day and I don't care

Bet

He pings your location, he’s on his way.

Rain:

You send him a text and a photo of yourself to accompany it

Rain’s phone is a lil slow though, so he only sees your text first

It’s not his fault

But it is his fault that he refuses to upgrade his phone...

I need your help, I fell out of my clothes 😏

Your phone screen lights up. Rain is calling.

You answer in a sensual voice, “Rain? Like what you s-?”

He interrupts you immediately, “You fell?!? Are you okay?!”

“Wait, what?”

He yells again, “Your text!!”

“Oh,” You pause, looking down at your message, “The photo I sent, did you get that?”

“Why would you send me a photo if you fell?”

An exasperated sigh escapes you, “Just wait.”

His phone pings, the picture message coming through finally. He sees a sultry photo of you, bare, in front of the mirror in your bedroom.

“Rain? Are you there?”

He spoke again after a moment, his voice about an octave lower, “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

Mountain:

He does not text

Like, barely at all if he can help it

If you want to discover his weakness though, just send him a suggestive photo

This ghoul will wax poetic about your body all night long

Unless he's tired of course

Hi you

Hi I’m so sleepy

I’ve got something that will keep you awake if you want

Oh?

You send him a suggestive photo of you in bed, the sheet pulled up just barely covering your body and showing plenty of skin.

Fucking hell

Yeah? What would you want to do if you were here?

…

The chat bubbles sit there for about ten minutes before you get antsy.

Mountain?

You send him a meme from SpongeBob: “One Eternity Later”. Still no reply.

I stg if you fell asleep…

The next morning you wake up to a text from him apologizing for falling asleep. A second message says that he isn’t going to tell you what he would do to you, that he’d rather show you instead.

Cirrus:

You didn’t give her any warning, you were just feeling yourself so you sent a little slightly nude photo

Cirrus doesn’t have her phone on her though, it’s in her bag

The kicker? She and Cumulus have the same phone, down to identical phone cases which were gifts from Aurora

Better not open your phone in public while waiting for her to reply

She will always have to one-up you

Cirrus’ phone buzzes, but she ignores it.

Cumulus holds it up because she thinks it's hers and reads the lock screen, “Cir - your ‘Midnight Snack’ sent you a photo message.”

“Could you open it and see what’s up?”

“Sure.” Cumulus pauses, clearing her throat, “Get over here, you’ll want to see this.”

“What could it possibly be -” Her eyes widened into saucers. "That little -"

"Are you going to reply?"

"Yes," Cirrus says confidently, "and you're going to take a photo of me to send back."

There is one thing for certain: her "Midnight Snack" is getting a treat tonight.

Cumulus:

She carries her phone around of photo opportunities and to spam the group chat with memes only

You can send her a naughty pic if you want

But it’ll take hours for her reply

She will make the wait well worth your while

You send Cumulus about 20 or so texts before she finally replies to you.

She doesn't read anything, just sees the picture.

Look at you

It's about time!

You look good enough to eat

The moment is over, been over for hours Unless...

You're in luck, little temptress, because we're in different time zones So the moment is just starting for me

You play along, especially when she sends you a photo to up the stakes that has you falling to your knees.

Aurora/Sunshine:

Solely communicates via Snapchat, so it’s easy to get a little spicy

She doesn’t get what you’re trying to do though, at first

Once she catches on, all bets are off

What are you doing right now?

The photo you send is slightly on the sultry side, your hair looking mussed, and your top undone a few buttons.

She sent you a picture back of her wide grin with the line:

Just shopping! I wanted to get some ribbons for my mic stand 😁

Well what are you wearing?

Her next picture is from someone else’s POV of her body, she’s standing in a cutesy way in corduroy overalls with her arms crossed.

Idk what this human outfit is called It combines pants and a top and I love it!

You smile at your phone, she’s so fucking adorable. You reply with a chat:

It’s called a jumpsuit, my sweet ❤️

Yes, that’s it! Cumulus says your first message was “sexting”??

Your face turns red and she sends another chat message in rapid succession.

I’ll be there after I check out! Don’t unbutton any more of that top! 🍽️

They're all truly living rent free in my brain rn

917 notes · View notes

newtkive · 9 months ago

Text

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 4 - agoraphobia and burger king on 5th street

summary: a personal experience provides a way for newt to connect to y/n.

warnings: strong language, mental health talk, depression, medication (its my literal prescription i mention oops this is like a self insert fr), mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

THE GLADE

[ 10:52 am ]

y/n: it’s official yall

drugs saved my life

tommy: huh??

minho: same

newt: wow, i’ve never seen your name on my screen before 12 pm

y/n: shut the hell up bitch

newt: ouch, touchy

minho: woah

touchy 👀

are yallll..?

y/n: you’re sick

tommy: are we going to ignore the drugs statement??

like hello are u ok ??

newt: you’re annoying minho

minho: yea <3 😊

notice how they didn’t say no

y/n: you guys just don’t understand how a girl like me needs beauty sleep..

and no we aren’t

gally: all that beauty sleep and ur still walking around with that mug.. yikes.

y/n: 😑

i hate you i haete you i dhateoyifu

minho: great she’s having a fit

y/n: no one cares about me

and you think i’m ugly

this is so sick

and you don’t even care that i’m on drugs

☹️😭😭😭😭 done.

newt: no one said that love

gally that was rude

minho: BRUHHHHH

here she goes

tommy: I CAREE????????

DO I NEED TO COMEGET YOU????

y/n: yes 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

before i do something crazy 😭😭💣

minho: THE BOMB IS WILD

tommy: stay where you are

i have your location

newt: uhhh

y/n: pause what

minho: tommy why would you admit to that

tommy: im On my way! what’s the issue

sorry autocorrect

y/n: WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LOCATION????

gally: can you guys shut the fuck up

minho: the drama queen is here 😍

gally: stop

alby: I have it on Life360, I imagine Thomas does as well. In fact I have all of your locations.

y/n: oh

i forgot about that app..

minho: i didn’t. i get a notif that newt’s phone is at 5% all the goddamn time

even tho he said he deleted it

newt: just turn it off then

i redownloaded it don't track my app intake

minho: no it makes me feel less lonely

y/n: awwwww

idk how you do that newt

newt: do what?

y/n: not charge your phone

if my phone gets below like 15% then the monsters will get me

tommy: omg me tooo 🥹

newt: i was about to say you sound like tommy.

tommy: don’t say that!

she’s on drugs i don’t want to sound like an addict 😔

newt: she isn’t on drugs thomas

tommy: she literally said she is newt :/

5 mins and i’m there y/n

y/n: are you actually fr

thomas..

we live very far away sweetie

newt: i mean

if you were in trouble you don’t think we’d come get you?

tommy: ^^

but life360 says you’re at the burger king on 5th

minho: no that’s me LOOOL

y/n: NEWTTT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

tommy: wtf

i’m the one who’s coming to get u

why does he get the credit

minho: no tommy you’re coming to get me

tommy: oh yippee i get to see my friend 🤗

newt: ewwwwww

y/n: EWWWWW

tommy: OH STOP IT

y/n: why burger king of all places min

minho: why drugs of all things y/n

gally: she’s not doing drugs are you guys fuckin insane

y/n: yes i am

it’s 10 mg of fluoxetine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ONCE A DAY!!!!!!

IM ADDICTED

newt: no you aren’t, 10 mg is the smallest dose

minho: told y’all she was on drugs

y/n: ???????

minho: over the year

you’re too hyper to not be on some crack shit

tommy: oh stop that’s not nice.

newt: it’s not drugs like that minho stop.

tommy: uhoh he brought out the . at the end

y/n: it’s just for anxiety cuz i can’t leave the house without going into a breakdown

minho: she got acrophobia

told y’all she was mental

newt: what the fuck are you talking about

tommy: oh i know that word

fear of spiders 🕷️

minho: wtf no

fear of outside

y/n: i’m not afraid of outside

newt: that’s agoraphobia you fucking dumbass

y/n: 😍

i did NOT mean to send that lol oops

newt: ??

oh, okay

minho: when he’s a know it all 😍

when she’s agoraphobic 😍

y/n: when he’s at burger king on 5th because he has no food in his fridge and can only afford a $1.99 whopper with the coupons from the newspaper 😍😍😍😍

minho: 😒😑

newt: LMFAOOOO

GOOD THAT

minho: british people be so annoying

saying shit like gormless minger and good that be sooo real rn

newt: i have never said gormless minger in my whole 26 years of life.

y/n: you just did bro

newt: call me bro again

y/n: bro

brosive

brother

stepbro

minho: laughed until i saw the last msg :/

newt: 😑

y/n: ok youre the perverts

minho: cant you take your prozac and turn back to normal now

y/n: so you DO know what it is..

gally: wym 'back to normal' like there was smth before this??

y/n: real i been like this for life

tommy: i got whopper and two large fries and mozzarella sticks

newt: wow

y/n: wow just call him a fatass newt.

newt: i would never, stop

y/n: 2 large fries is kinda crazy tho

tommy: i have to get enough to share with my friend

minho

gally: surprised you have friends

tommy: yeah you are not one.

gally: RUDE?

y/n: WELL LMFAO

minho: i literally already ate also gally ur not my friend either

newt: same

alby: same

gally: well why tf am i in here

y/n: well you're my friend!

gally: great.

y/n: not with that attitude..

tommy: y/n you're ok though right??

y/n: yes tommy im fine sweetie

go eat your food

tommy: okay i wish you could share these fries with me

y/n: me too :(

minho: i don't

big back would eat em all

y/n: i actually hate you

newt

[ 11:45 am ]

newt: hey

y/n: hiii :D whats up??

newt: idk why but this feels like secretly texting you across the room at a party

y/n: actually tho

picture me giving u a look from across the room

newt: you would blow our cover immediately

i just wanted to let you know if you needed any like,, advice or something with your new medicine i'm here for you. i take the same stuff on top of lexapro

y/n: oh really?

newt: yeah i do

y/n: newt :( thank you

i am a bit nervous to start it tbh

newt: i understand, i was too

but hopefully it'll change things for the better

y/n: i hope so

i didn't realize you dealt with anxiety n stuff

newt: more than you know

you aren't the only one and you aren't alone w it

y/n: you're sweet newt, thank you

newt: don't mention it :))

sorry the smiley was creepy

y/n: lmao no i like it

if you need to talk or anything too i’m always here

newt: yeah?

y/n: of course ): you’re my pookie

newt: one day you gotta let go of that word lmao

y/n: but you love it tho

newt: you tell yourself that

actually are you free rn?

y/n: yeah! i’m just about home what’s up?

newt: i’m bored so pick up the phone

y/n: NEWT LMAO

ok fine 😒

207 notes · View notes

weirdmarioenemies · 5 months ago

Text

Name: Crazy Cars

Debut: WarioWare, Inc.: Mega Microgame$!

I hate cars. Wretched contraptions! Wretched infrastructure! Far too dangerous for any average schmuck to have total control over. Thankfully, WarioWare has asked the question of "what if cars were sillyfunny instead? What if they were goofy? And what if they were trying to kill Wario and nobody else?". And they made a bunch of wacky cars! And now I will share them with you, using the updated sprites from Gold! Sorry it the wheel placements are a few pixels off. It's ok.

Shark Car is the main character of the funny cars! You've heard of shark faces painted onto warplanes to make them more intimidating (which is hilarious. If that intimidates someone then they would be fooled by a moth's eyespots) but this car is an entire shark, upon some wheels! A speeding car would be a very bad thing to be struck by, and potentially even worse if that car is a shark. Imagine such a high speed chomp! Jeepers! But also imagine it hits you with its nose and gets a little disoriented after you get sent flying. It was having so much fun driving its self!

Next is Hot Dog Car! Or maybe a different kind of sausage, because it's so girthy. What's so funny? Stop laughing! I didn't mean it like that! I would never say "penis" in one of these posts. This Fast Frank is very endearing to me for how it looks like a novelty car for a hot dog vendor to drive! You just know a hot dog vendor in Bikini Bottom would drive one of these babies.

My favorite of the original trio! Potato Car! This is the tallest of the three, but also the shortest in a width sense. For whatever reason, some cars get regular green wheels, while others get yellow wheels that squash and stretch like a cartoon. Potato is always a splendid and funny thing to see in any situation, including barreling down the road to kill you! Shark, Hot Dog, and Potato are an interesting trio. Shark and Hot Dog are both made of meat. Hot Dog and Potato are both basic foods. Shark and Potato both have a bunch of little dots (potato eyes, and ampullae of Lorenzini). And what do all three have in common? Wheels!

WarioWare Gold added three NEW funny cars! The first is Lightbulb, which is honestly the least interesting to me, so instead I will use this paragraph to say that the funny cars can be Tricky. Sometimes instead of just driving, they will jump! It is very hard to react to. But sometimes, the usual "Dodge!" prompt will be replaced with "Dodge?" and the car will suddenly stop, and then either reverse or stay still for the remainder of the time. I hope that if you thought these funny cars were simply being pushed from offscreen, you now believe that they have free will.

Teapot Car has a trick up its spout...! Sometimes, it will stop, but rather than reversing, its lid will open, and spit out a smaller teapot car! The previously discussed cars have all had tiny versions that can spawn, but Teapot Car is the only one that releases its baby into the world before our eyes. Maybe the others come out of funny car birth canals off screen. Tiny cars will just bounce of Wario if they touch him, giving this microgame quite a few unloseable variants! I don't care about the challenge, though, I care about the funny cars! And I've saved the best for last!

This is not just "Door Car". This one has been given a name, as it appears in the Wario Kard minigame as an opponent. This is Door to Nowhere! A door is already a pretty silly thing to be hurtling toward you dangerously. Just move to the side a bit. But are you forgetting about Door's Special Attack? Door can open! And this door can stop rolling, but then open, and release another car out of itself! I really love the concept of portable cartoon passages like this. I don't see it often, and the only other one that comes to mind is the portable hole teleport feature from ToonTown, but it is so whimsical!

That is all for this post! Good bye! *enters a door that then drives away*

#crazy cars #wario #warioware #warioware inc mega microgames #mario #wario entities #mod chikako

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 2 years ago

Text

BOOMBOOM!

bllk boys as otome love interests

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): some of them may be sentient

ISAGI YOICHI!

the best friend and lead character!

Everyone loves and treasures this kind of love interest. Isagi is the hardworking, earnest kind of male lead, and no matter what kind of obstacle the game tosses at you, he’s the love interest that always comes out on top to save the day! Some people might call him boring or are quick to dismiss him as the bland protagonist, but in reality, there’s more to Isagi than the smiley, good boy attitude he puts on. As the lead protagonist and the poster boy, Isagi’s an awfully greedy love interest. If you aren’t prepared to give him your entire heart, then you might get horrendously caught off guard by his egotistical and almost sadistic way of demanding love. After all, this is his game, isn’t it?

“I love you,” Isagi whispers gently. The scene’s perfect: a lovely setting sun that dyes the edges of his world with the most breathtaking swirls of pink and orange, a gentle breeze that ruffles his hair, and the comforting weight of you leaning against his shoulder. He could die right now, and Isagi swears that he’d still be the happiest man in the world. He feels like he’s been through thick and thin with you.

And he always would be there for you. That’s what someone like him was for, right? He cranes his head, and he glances down at you. The smile on his face is infectious, and you find yourself grinning up at him too. Deep down, you should know that Isagi’s just a video game character, yet as the cutscenes unfold and Isagi continues to proclaim his love for you, you can’t help but feel like he’s more of a real blood-and-flesh person rather than a compilation of blurred pixels on your screen.

He presses a shy kiss to the crown of your head, and he cups your face. Isagi’s hands are careful yet soft, and you want to bury your face into his touch. How could he be so loving yet so unpredictable at the same time? Was this truly the same man who vowed to raise hell the moment anyone else threatened his claim on you? Not that it mattered. You’d never have eyes for anyone else.

“Tell me you love me too,” Isagi urges. He nudges you playfully, and you curiously glance up to meet his big blue eyes.

> “I love you too, Yoichi.”

> “Let’s be together forever.”

ITOSHI RIN!

bad boy rival!

It’s only inevitable that you get off on the wrong foot with a love interest like Rin. He’s gruff and rough around the edges, and he has no time for anyone that fails to live up to his standards. But behind those hardened walls is a wounded boy who wants love more than anybody else around him. He might brush off your open hand more than once, but if you’re insistent enough, he’ll become the most loyal lover of them all! Only those that can brave the sting of his bites are rewarded the sweetness of his exclusive kisses. Besides, his beautiful black hair, alluring eyelashes, and piercing teal eyes are all physical features to make even the most jaded of people to instantly fall in love with him. Maybe you’ll be the one to melt his icy heart?

Rin pouts, and you know immediately that he’s avoiding your gaze. “...Quit looking at me with those eyes.”

“What eyes?” You innocently ask. You know perfectly well what you’re doing to him. You hang off of his arm, pursing your lips and looking up at him with the best puppy eyes your avatar character can muster up. “C’mon, Rinnie… Do you not like being with me? Is that it?”

The boy grits his teeth, and the light flushes of pink dusting his cheeks signal to you that you’re getting closer and closer to your goal. “T-That’s not it…! Ugh, stop clinging to me so much. It’s gross. You’ll make me throw up.”

“Ehhhh? Is it so wrong for me to want love from my boyfriend? Hmph! If you act like that, I’ll just go and find someone else instead!” You pretend to huff, holding your ground. He grits his teeth. You’re enjoying this far too much, and Rin lets out the biggest sigh, defeatedly shaking his head and exhaling deeply.

“...Fine. I’ll take you out to the new cafe that opened around the block. And fine, fine, I’ll pay for it. Happy now?” Only then does he look at you. Despite his harsh glare, the corners of his lips twitch subtly, and you’re more than aware that Rin only puts up the tough guy act to keep up his jaded reputation around his social circles.

You clap your hands delighted. “Yes! You’re the best, Rinnie!”

The otome game character huffs, and he holds his head high. “You owe me though.”

> “How about a big ol’ kiss?”

> “Ehhh? So mean! I’ll tell on you to Sae!”

NIKO IKKI!

shy, shy, shy!

Quiet, introverted, and observant, Niko really isn’t the kind of otome love interest that might grab your attention by force or wedge his way into your route. His appeal comes in his constant presence and his intrigue. Everybody knows about the loudspoken guys or the troublemakers, but only a select few have the courage or the knowledge to befriend a loner love interest like Niko. Don’t get him wrong—it’s not that he’s a loser or anything. Niko has his own voracious streak that he keeps beautifully under wraps. He’ll draw you in with his concealed charm bit-by-bit, fully luring you away from the pomp and circumstance of your stereotypical otome routes. You’ll always come running back to him once you’re hooked. That much he’s sure of.

“You know, I never thought a guy as reserved as you could be so lively,” you admit sheepishly. You can never pinpoint how Niko’s feeling exactly, but you’re sure that if you could push past his long bangs and look into his pretty eyes, he would probably blush and look away. The loud electric noises of the arcade echo in your ears, and Niko bites the inside of his cheek in concentration as he guides the claw machine to bend to his will.

He cheers softly to himself, and he ducks down. You glance over at him, and before you know it, you’re greeted with a fluffy bunny plushie in your face.

“...it’s for you,” Niko mutters. He’s looking away from you, clearly feeling a little shy. “I only get to come out to things like this because you invite me. Otherwise I’d probably be at home. You’re the only person who asks to do things like this with me.”

You take the plushie from him, and you give it a big squeeze. “Awwww, Niko! You’re too sweet. I like hanging out with you, you know? You gotta give yourself more credit. I think you’re fun to be with.”

“You think I’m fun to be with?” He hesitates. He wants to say “enough to hang out with me alone?” but he stops himself. The last thing he wants to do is scare you away. But he likes it. The unspoken tension, the quaint intimacy of being able to have your company all alone, away from the other noisy and annoying people.

He smiles warmly, and he turns towards you. “It’s almost like a date since it’s just the two of us here.”

> “Do you want to make it a proper one then?”

> “That’s so cute! We should do this more often!”

MIKAGE REO!

rich boy ceo millionaire!

From the start, this world was meant to be a stepping stone for Reo. Everyone fawns over a love interest like him. He’s skilled, handsome, and even if it weren’t for his actual skills, anyone would be blinded by the sheer amount of wealth he has. And like any good otome game worth its salt, his interest is on you, the player! He’s a princely gentleman on the quest to find a treasure unlike anything else in his glamorous life, and what better solution to his search than someone like you? He’s interested in how you seem to be so distanced from the rest of this fictional world. It’s like you’re from a different universe, and if he manages to put you in the palm of his hand and take over you completely, he’d have something unique that no one else in this world could ever own…

Reo’s fingers are gentle and warm, and they tickle when he brushes his fingertips against the curve of your cheek. You want to lean into his touch, but he’s fickle. He keeps you chasing after his advances, and the two of you have mastered this odd game of chase: show just enough to keep the other interested, but not too much.

His penthouse screams luxury. You know trying to calculate how much everything in it would cost would give you an eternal headache, but you’re more preoccupied on the thick chemistry that hangs in the air between you two. None of the housekeepers nor his parents are in sight, and it’s just the two of you stuck alone in his room.

“You’re such a strange person…,” he trails off. His fingertips trace over your nose, the apple of your cheeks, and the swell of your lips. You want to kiss his fingers, press his dainty hands against your lips, but you press your mouth into a thin line. You provoke him silently, dare him to approach you closer so that you can ensnare him in your charm.

What a dangerous game, you muse to yourself, both in the moment and in the bigger picture.

“The more time I spend with you, the more confused I get,” the purple-haired boy laughs. His voice rings around the spacious suite, and he cups your face with his palms. The touch is electric and paralyzing, and you don’t dare breathe as he brings your face close to his. “What have you done to me?”

“I don’t know,” you coyishly respond. You blink at him flirtatiously, leaving the boy breathless.

He sighs, and he shakes his head slightly. “Then you don’t mind if I get bolder, would you? What would you say if I said I wanted to steal you away from the rest of the world?”

> “Do it. I don’t mind. Make me yours.”

> “Oh? Shouldn’t I be the one monopolizing you instead?”

OTOYA EITA!

good-for-nothing flirt!

Otoya is the guy everyone warns you about. In every gameplay video’s advice, in every walkthrough’s comments, even in the fanfiction that randomly pops up on your screen… Falling for Otoya is bad news. He plays with feelings even more casually than he plays soccer, and wherever he goes, he leaves a trail of shattered lovers in his wake. But the heart wants what it wants, and it’s hard to stay away from him once you’re entranced by his cool charm and his unexpected flirting. The only way to tame a playboy’s heart is to give it a taste of his own medicine or to find a way to make him acknowledge you as a final boss of sorts. You’re determined not to end up as another one of his scorned talking stages, and when you double down on the fact that you’re not letting him slip through your hands, Otoya’s route becomes so much more interesting.

You dig your heel into the ground, and you tighten your grip on the flirtatious boy’s arm. “Not so fast, Mr. Ninja! I’m not letting you disappear on me like that! You promised me a date after I bailed you out last week, and I’m not going to let you off the hook!”

Otoya gritted his teeth, trying to shake you off of him, but you determinedly clung onto him as if you were attached to his elbow with superglue. “Fine, fine! I get it! I’ll take you out properly! Will you please let me go?”

“Absolutely not!” You grunt, and you puff your cheeks out. “The moment I let you go, I know you’re going to run off after the next pretty girl you see! I know all of your dirty little tricks!”

Otoya groans and rolls his eyes, but he still throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright. You got me. I’ll take you out. And here I was, hoping you’d fall for it and let me go. Where do you want me to take you? The park? The zoo?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to go somewhere where you take all of your flings! Take me seriously, Otoya! Take me somewhere you haven’t taken anybody else before! Somewhere new! Somewhere totally romantic!”

He scrunches his face up, and he observes you with a pointed eye. “Somewhere romantic? Aren’t you getting a little too ahead of yourself?”

“Nope. I’m not letting someone as sleazy as you get off the hook that easily. C’mon, you should be able to think of something! Don’t tell me….” Your face falls in disgust. “Have you taken out so many people on dates that you don’t have anywhere unique to go?!”

Oh, you really should have picked a different love interest in this game. There were childhood sweethearts, charming rebels, even a millionaire… And you just had to go pick the scumbag.

“What are your ideas then? Shoot ‘em at me,” he grumbles. You think to yourself, humming excitedly to yourself. If Otoya was going to be persistent on shaking you off, you were going to be even more persistent on capturing his heart.

> “How about your room? No one’s been there before, right?”

> “Take me to a wedding chapel! We’ll pretend to get hitched!”

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #itoshi rin #niko ikki #mikage reo #otoya eita #x reader #my writing

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 8 months ago

Text

You're Safe Now

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: Hurt/comfort, discussions of past child sexual abuse and child pornography, PTSD, flashbacks, panic attacks, brief and mild self-harm Word Count: 1,799 NOTE: Child sexual abuse/assault is a deeply triggering subject for many people. If you're one of them, please proceed with caution. As a victim myself, I know that, oftentimes, I find great comfort in reading stories that include narratives like mine, especially when they make me feel seen and heard and cared for. At other times, they are terrible for my mental health. Please just be mindful of your mental state as you read, especially if you are a victim. And if you need help, please reach out to the National Sexual Assault Hotline (1-800-656-4673).

Casey looked over Stabler's shoulder as he scrolled through grainy photo after photo. Stills from hundreds of pornographic VHS tapes, all of abused children. "Any of them prosecutable?" Stabler shook his head. "Nah, not on abuse charges. These are all 25 years old. The Feds just want us to look and see if we can make any connections."

"All the same ring?" "Yep. A Baptist church, if you can believe it. Somewhere in Tennessee. Apparently the ringleader moved to the city about 10 years ago. They just nailed him last month." Casey looked disgusted. "I absolutely can believe it was a church. They're like breeding grounds for pedophiles. No offense." Stabler gritted his teeth. "Sunday school teachers. What an introduction to God." They watched the nameless faces scroll past in silence. So many kids, so much hurt. A child flashed past the screen–a little girl with glasses–and Casey blinked. "Stop," she said. Stabler stilled his scrolling and glanced back at the ADA, curious. "Go back." He dutifully scrolled back up the page until Casey stopped him again. She stared at the pixelated photo, sick to her stomach. A little white shirt, a Ramona Quimby-style bob, multicolored glasses. And the cutest nose–your nose. It wasn't you. Surely, it couldn't be you. You would have told her. But the child in the picture looked so much like you. And you had grown up in Tennessee. Going to a Baptist church. Casey cleared her throat, trying to disguise the shakiness in her voice. "Can you print that photo for me?" Stabler looked long and hard at Casey. "Yeah, why?" "Just print it. Please." Stabler handed Casey the printed photo, and she snatched it, folding it tightly and placing it in her pocket. "Thanks," she said, walking swiftly away with her fists clenched. Stabler watched her go, concerned. He made a mental note to mention it to Olivia. _____________________________________________________________ When Casey came through the door that night, you were curled up on the couch watching Parks & Recreation. "Bye, Bye, Little Sebastian" played in the background and you sang along absentmindedly, typing on your laptop. "Hey, love," you called. "I didn't feel like cooking. Want to order a pizza?" Casey set down her briefcase and walked slowly to you, heart pounding in her chest. She sat across from you and paused the show. You looked at her and frowned. She looked terrified. You had never seen her look so scared. You threw your laptop aside and took her hand. "Hey, what's wrong?" you asked. "You look like someone died." Your eyes grew wide. "Did someone die?" Casey took a shaky breath. "Sweetheart, I need to ask you something." Now, you were scared, too. What could Casey possibly need to ask you that made her this anxious? "Okay," you replied, your voice quiet. She took one of your hands in hers and traced circles on it. After an excruciating few minutes, she asked, "Did anything happen to you when you were a kid?" Your stomach dropped and you felt ice flood your veins. There was no way she could know. Nobody knew. "W-what do you mean?" "Were you..." Casey started, clearing her throat. "Were you... abused at all?" You felt panic rising in your chest, your throat constricting as it became harder and harder to take a breath. "Why are you asking me that?" you cried, your voice growing frantic. "Casey, why are you asking me that!?"

Tears threatened the corners of your eyes, and your body started rocking back and forth. You felt like you were suffocating. Casey held onto your hand even tighter, her own eyes glistening, as she pulled the folded paper from her pocket and handed it to you. Your hands shook as you opened it, and when you saw yourself on that page, everything inside you shattered all at once. "No, no, no, no, no!" you cried, grabbing your head in your hands and rocking more and more aggressively. All of a sudden you couldn't breathe. Just like you couldn't breathe in that Sunday school room. Just like you couldn't breathe with in front of that camera with the red blinking light. And the hands. So many hands touching you, all over you. You coughed and retched, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your pupils darted back and forth, overtaking the rest of your eyes. And somehow you were back there, back in that room. The black carpet with the rainbow flecks. The smell of stale hymnals and men's sweat. The taste of the wintergreen mints they shoved in your mouth when they sent you back to your unwitting parents, masking the scent of vomit. You clenched your fists over your ears and slammed them into your head, grabbing your hair and pulling so hard a tuft came out.

Casey jumped up and grabbed your hands, trying to keep them away from your head. "Honey, don't do that," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please don't do that. I'm right here." She tried to wrap her arms around you, but you shoved her away. "Don't touch me!" You heard yourself screaming, as if from far away, as if you were sitting in the rafters of the Sunday school room, but no one could hear you. "No! Please, it hurts!" Tears streamed down your flaming face as you rocked back and forth, hyperventilating, tucked into the corner of the couch. You were as far away from Casey as you could get. Casey had dealt with a lot of victims. She'd been emotionally invested in a lot of victims. She cared deeply for and fought for so many victims. But you. You were hers. She felt like her heart was being physically ripped apart as she looked at your tiny, terrified form. In that moment, you were a mirror image of the scared little girl in the VHS still. Casey wiped her own tears away, trying to stay strong because you needed someone strong right now. God, she wanted to hold you. She wanted to scoop you up and protect you and tell you that it was okay, that she loved you, that she would never let anyone touch you again. But you wouldn't even let her close. "I'll be right back, sweetheart," Casey said, biting her lip as she looked at you, then jogging to the kitchen. It seemed like you couldn't even hear her. She thought you were having a flashback, but she didn't know how to help you out of it. She dialed Olivia's number and prayed to whatever powers there were in the universe that Olivia would pick up. "Benson."

"Oh, thank god," Casey exhaled.

"Casey? What's going on?"

"Do you know how to get someone out of a flashback?"

Olivia's voice deepened in concern. "Is this about that photo you got from Elliot?"

Casey paced back and forth, rubbing her forehead. "Yes. I don't have time to talk about it now. Do you know how to help with a flashback? Please."

"Uh..." Olivia started, clearly trying to provide information and make sure that Casey was okay. "Usually they need to be reminded of what's real and what's not."

"How?" Casey asked, trying to hide the desperation in her voice.

"Try engaging their senses. Something to shock them out of it. Ice, maybe. Or something with a strong smell."

"Okay, I got it," Casey said, sprinting to the bathroom.

"Casey, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll talk to you about it later, Olivia," Casey barked, more terse than she meant to be. "Gotta go."

Casey rummaged in the vanity, looking for a specific bottle of perfume. She gripped it tightly in her hand and ran back to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen green beans out of the freezer.

Casey took a deep breath before returning to your corner of the couch, where you sat curled and shaking and sobbing. She reached out to hold your hand, then stopped herself, instead grabbing the bottle of perfume and spraying it around you.

"Hey," she said, tentatively. "Honey, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here."

Your body shook uncontrollably, your eyes clamped shut.

"I'm gonna put this ice on you," Casey said. She wasn't sure you could hear her, but she wanted even your subconscious to know that she was there and doing everything she could to help you. She dropped the bag of green beans in your lap and you gasped, your head shooting up. You looked around frantically, and Casey grabbed at the chance to pull you out of the flashback. "Hey," she called. "Y/N, can you hear me?" You seemed to look both at her and past her at the same time. "Do you feel the cold? Honey, that's real. Can you smell my perfume? It's the one you like so much, the one that smells like pine trees. It's real."

You were confused, disoriented, but your frantic breathing was slowing down, and Casey took that as a sign it was working. "I'm right here, sweetheart, okay?" Her voice broke. She was dying to hold you, but she still wasn't sure you'd let her, and she didn't want to make it worse. "I'm right here with you. I love you, and I'm real. We're in our apartment, and that's real. Those men who hurt you, they're not real anymore." You kneaded the bag of green beans in your hands, still rocking, but less aggressively. Your vision was coming back into focus, the overlap of past and present becoming less confusing and overwhelming. You were finally able to look at Casey and see her. You looked into her eyes and a rush of shame poured over you. She looked terrified. Her face was streaked with tears. You didn't know if she was scared of you or scared for you, but either way you felt sick to have scared her.

Your face screwed up in tears and you looked away, burying your head in your hands. "I'm sorry, Casey," you cried. "I'm so sorry."

She surged toward you, her hands stopping inches short of your skin. "It's okay, Y/N, it's okay. I'm right here. Can I touch you?"

You nodded, but you still couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

Casey scooped you into her lap like a child, wrapping her arms protectively around you and cradling your head next to hers.

"I'm sorry, Casey," you said again and again, anxiety and panic and exhaustion giving way to pure shame as you grasped her shirt and wept. "I'm sorry."

Casey had tried. She had tried to hold it together for you, but seeing you so broken, hearing you apologize to her for this horrific thing that had happened to you–it broke her, too. Her tears came all at once. "You don't need to be sorry, honey," she told you, pressing her forehead to yours, your tears mingling. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping snot from your nose. "You're like three years older than me."

She kissed the side of your head over and over, smoothing your wrecked hair and holding you as tight as she could. "You're safe now, Y/N," she said, for both of you, like a mantra. "I will always keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

You buried your head under Casey's, making yourself small.

She rubbed your back, breathing slowly and rhythmically. You didn't notice, but yours followed.

Neither of you knew how long you sat like that, but after a while Casey asked, "Am I holding you too tight?"

You shook your head, snaking your arms around her waist. "No. Please don't let go."

"Never," she whispered, her breath hot on your cheek.

#casey novak #casey novak x autistic reader #casey novak one shot #casey novak drabble #hurt/comfort #law and order svu #svu #autistic #neurodivergent #casey novak fanfic #x autistic reader

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libby-for-life · 8 months ago

Note

Hey! I saw that you do staticradio and I'm wondering if you would do this request?

so I'm not really a fan of staticmoth, so basically Vox is in semi abusive relationship with Valentino, that he can't seem to get out of, and even though Vox knows that Valentino doesn't really love him, but he's just desperate for some type of affection that he know he can't get for who he actually wants. And after a tiring day with Valentino and Velvette, Vox goes to his office for some peace, but finds a letter from Alastor to meet at his Radio Tower. Their he finds Alastor with a tied up Valentino. And since you know Alastor is known for broadcasting his carnage for all of Hell to hear.... This is Alastor grand jester to Vox to accept him as Alastor's. And we'll it's not like Vox could just say no, lol🤭🤭🫣🫣(he is very much into what he just witnessed)

Possessive Sex, with kinda non-consenual voyeurism, because Alastor is still Broadcasting, which he is aware of, not that Alastor care. He's glad that Hell knows Vox is off the market and all HIS.

Oh, my. I like how you think anon. I am more than happy to do this. Again, I will be respecting Alastor for being Ace.

Vox groaned as he sat up and another piece of his glass face fell to the ground. Valentino was too rough again and the result had his face smashed into a wall. When Vox tried to yell that he can't keep changing his screen because Val decided to have a piss fit, all he heard was, "I liked your older form. At least that form could take a hit instead of some whiney bitch. I have whores who are better-behaved than you."

Vox had flinched and slumped over when Valentino sauntered out of their shared penthouse, hips swaying in what the TV demon supposed was meant to entice demons. It just made Vox glare harder. His boyfriend was probably going to end up having sex with some slut from work and then post about it knowing that Vox would get jealous of it all.

He had once tried explaining that he didn't like to share when he was in a relationship but Valentino had just laughed before saying nobody liked a clingy slut. No apology. Not even a good explanation as to why he insisted that he sleep with every good-looking demon walking his way. No, it was Vox's fault. It was always Vox's fault.

The Media Demon shook his head. No, he could make this work! Maybe he had been a bit too clingy. Nobody liked it when you're partner hung over you and didn't give you space. He picked up a shard of glass from the ground and held it in the palm of his hand. He needed to be better. Give more. Stop demanding more. If he pissd Val off again he might leave just like—

Vox shook his screen. No. He shouldn't dwell on someone who abandoned him. He should focus on keeping the person in his life right now happy. Besides, he was needed downstairs. Velvette needed him to model something and she got angry when he wasn't on time. He got up to change his screen so he wouldn't be late.

"Are you sure this is what it's supposed to look like?" Vox asked, suspicious and uncomfortable with what he was wearing. Why was he in a dress and why were there so many straps on it?! Sure, the dress was nice, a blue and red piece that looked elegant on him and his admittedly snatched waist but he wasn't really one to wear this type of clothing.

"Uh, it looks nice," Vox said when he noticed Velvette glaring at him. She smirked at the compliment and flipped her hair. "Of course it does. I'm not the Fashion Overlord for nothing!" She peered down at the dress with a frown before snapping her fingers. The dress became shorter and the elegant dress became something out of a porno video Val would direct.

"Velvette!" He screamed. He was lucky that no one was here to witness the blush spreading across his face. "What? The only positive things your body has is your waist and ass! I wanted to show it off." Velvette explained. "Now, look in the mirror and tell me what you think."

With a blush that resembled pixels of red and blue, he carefully examined his scantily clad figure. The scrap of fabric barely covered his ass. The dress now had a low-cut v-neck that made Vox blush even harder. He didn't feel comfortable in this. He tried saying as much, but Velvette was quick to interrupt.

"You promised you would bloody help me!" Velvette all but yelled at his face making Vox sigh. This was going to be an exhausting day. He could already tell.

Vox stumbled into his office breathing out a shaky breath. "Godamn it, Val. Why do you do thi-i-is?" He muttered. He could still remember what went down just an hour ago. Apparently, Valentino needed him at his porn studio. It was important. He purred into the phone just the way Vox liked it and he immediately felt weak in the knees.

"Of course. I'll be right there." He dressed himself nicely, making sure to put a lot of effort into his suit and appearance.

He was practically vibrating as he walked into the studio. Vox tried not to look at the production going on as he tried to find his boyfriend. After asking a few demons, he finally got a concrete answer. The moth demon was in his private office. The one where they used for quick romps whenever Valentino felt like having sex with him.

Making sure he looked nice, he knocked before opening the door. What caught his attention made his blood boil. Valentino wanted sex alright. Just not with his boyfriend. He could feel his body overheating as he watched them moan into the mattress. "What the fuck?!" He yelled. Both of them looked at him but Val had the gal to laugh at him.

"Come on, baby." The moth beckoned him closer. "Want to make this a threesome?"

"No! You know I don't like this!" Vox yelled, throwing the nearest lamp into a wall. "Did you just ask me here to mock me?! Make me angry?!"

Val growled, sending the whore he was on top of trembling. "Vox, watch yourself." He said but Vox didn't even hear that. He was far too mad. "Why do you do this?! Fuck, I give everything in this relationship and yet—"

A slap echoed in the room and Vox felt himself fritz a bit now that a chunk of his glass was shattered. "Why do you bitch and moan about the stupidest of things? God, we're not exclusive, slut." That shattered something in Vox's soul. He felt numb as he heard Valentino call him every insult under the sun. He finished his rant by saying, "You've ruined the vibe, Voxy. Go mope in your tower where I can come fuck you when I need you." Vox was pushed out of the office and he heard the distinct sound of the door locking. Not even a minute later he could hear moaning and panting. The Media Demon could feel himself beginning to cry, so he walked to the nearest camera and jumped through it, disappearing into the wires.

Now, Vox was cradling his hurt face and trying not to sob as he fixed it. The water could ruin his circuits. He forced himself to sit up and head for his desk where he kept some spare screens. Falling into his chair, he was quick to change it, making sure no sharp glass got stuck in his wires.

He sighed when the new screen popped into place and he finally allowed himself to cry. Why did he keep doing this?! He knew Valentino didn't love him. It was obvious with how he was treated. Besides, his heart would always belong to someone else...

Shaking his head, he decided to get some work done. That was when he saw it. A decorative red card that smelled faintly of copper and roses. He recognized the scent almost immediately. It's been a while since he was able to smell it so directly though.

Alastor was in his office. At first, he was panicked. What the hell was the Radio Demon doing in the Vee's tower?! He had security for a reason! But then, curiosity filled him. Why would Alastor leave one of his calling cards here? What game was he playing?

Deciding to finally read the card, he turned it over. It was simple and to the point. Come to the Radio Tower before my daily broadcast.

Vox felt his inside warm up pleasantly before he squashed it. He wasn't getting his hopes up that this had anything to do with how Vox truly felt. Alastor probably wanted to fight and went to him for the most entertainment.

He should crumble the card and throw it away. He should leave it and forget about it.

"Oh, what the hell," Vox muttered. He wasn't going to do any of that. He could never ignore Alastor. Maybe a fight would do him some good.

Standing up, he stretched and looked at the time. Plenty of time to arm himself and make himself look presentable for their fight. He felt the need to destroy something anyway.

Vox stood beside the Radio Tower with a smirk. It wasn't often that Alastor invited him over for a fight but he was prepared. Climbing up the steps, he was prepared to blast open the door when it opened for him.

"Vox! My dear, you're just in time!" Alastor said with his trademark grin. "You bet I am!" Vox said, extending his claws. "Where do you do this? Street 666 would have a lot of casualties and I know you like blood baths."

Alator tilted his head before laughing. Vox felt himself deflate. Here was another demon laughing at him. He didn't like it. "Would you just tell me what is going on?!" He glitched out. He was lucky he wasn't stuttering with how his voice was betraying him.

"Oh, Vox. I'm not laughing at you. I should have been more specific on the card, but c'est la vi~."

Vox blinked and really studied the Radio Demon. He looked calm and at ease, as always, but there was no underlying tension just before they fought. "Alastor, what did you call me here for?"

"Ah!" Alastor brightened. "Of course, this way for your surprise!" A strong hand found its way to his waist and he was pulled into the tower. Vox felt himself blush at the contact but forced himself to be nonchalant about it all. If the smirk on the Radio Demon's face was anything to go off of, he failed.

"Here you are! What do you think?!"

"Alastor, what the fuck?"

His surprise consisted of Valentino hogtied on the floor with angelic rope. It glowed in the dim light of the room. The moth demon was gagged as well, but the noise coming from him told Vox he was probably cursing up a storm.

Vox didn't know what to do. Of all the things he was expecting from Alastor, this was not even close on his list.

"Now, don't be shy, my dear. We have a broadcast to do." Vox still didn't understand what the hell was going on and he said as much to the Radio Demon.

"Can't you tell? We're taking out the trash. I've always hated this bug, but I have a feeling you want this just as much as I do. To feel this miserable wretch die in its own blood."

Vox blinked. He kidnapped Valentino to kill him and he wanted the Media Demon to help?

His eyes trailed down to his boyfriend's tied-up form. He was struggling to get out of the bindings and let out grunts of effort. The moth demon's clothes were destroyed, leaving him in tattered scraps. Vox thought he looked pathetic.

"If you're still feeling hesitant, why don't you just stay and watch?" Alastor suggested. "Besides, after everything he's done, surely he deserves it." Vox thought about every time he was cheated on. How Valentino would always invalidate, humiliate, and discard him because he could. Then he would pull him back in with sweet words until Vox was hooked on the bastard's poison.

Turning to Alastor, he said, "Fine. But I'm just watching."

Then, to Vox's absolute embarrassment, Alastor gently took his hand and kissed the back of it.

"Let's begin~."

Vox watched in fascination as Alastor tortured his ex-boyfriend. Normal people should be disgusted by what they were seeing. Vox wasn't normal by any means. In fact, just looking at the Radio Demon at work made Vox hot under the collar.

How can someone look so good covered in blood?

"Well, folks. It seems this is the end of Valentino." Alastor growled, holding the decapitated head of the moth demon. "Not even I would eat such filth."

Vox watched mesmerized as the Radio Demon turned to him. He walked over to him and before Vox could even blink, he was wrapped up in tentacles. "Wha?! Alastor!" Vox yelled, struggling for a moment before the taller demon kissed him.

Sparks lept off of Vox and he shook as the kiss continued. Alastor chuckled and they both broke for air.

"Do you want this? While I might not be able to give you pleasure how most demons would, I can be quite creative~"

Vox felt like he was dreaming. Was the Radio Demon serious? Did Alastor just ask him to have sex with him?!

"If you're teasing me again, I will fucking kill you." Vox threatened before kissing Alastor again. They both moaned into the kiss, the Media Demon felt sharp fingers brush his clothes before ripping through them. Vox didn't even care that that was an expensive suit.

More clothes were ripped and soon Vox was naked and being held aloft by tentacles. When he felt something poke his entrance, he whimpered. "My, you're sensitive~!" Vox blinked and opened teary eyes and saw that Alastor was holding his cane which had a crackling microphone. He was broadcasting still?!

Before Vox could complain, he felt the rough thrust of a tentacle enter him causing him to scream in ecstasy. Alastor chuckled, his filled with lust. Despite that, he wasn't hard in the slightest. A tentacle forced its way into his mouth, gagging him perfectly.

"Do you hear that? Vox is mine. And only mine. Anyone who tries to touch what's mine gets a spot as my dinner." One last tentacle wrapped around Vox's dick and it took everything in him not cum on the spot.

"Now, listening to my pet? That, I might allow on occasion." Alastor bent down and bit into Vox's neck, blood oozing to the surface. Vox screamed and came on the floor.

Vox shook from everything and Alastor patted his head, rubbing his sensitive antennas. "Thank you for tuning in, until next time."

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