#im just saying that as one of the more fem men in the cast this is just....not it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 8 months ago

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𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 3

read chapter 1 - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of... Sex..aftercare..limits..NDA..discomfort...virginity..masturbation..anxity, Dom and Sub dynamics, Drinking , food, kissing, making out, Joel starts to get a little obsessive or toxic, Partying THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: Finally 21 its time to celebrate in more ways than one.

WC: 6.8K

A/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, In a week I've become an aunt and had crazy work shifts but I'm here and ready to deliver greatness my loves

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

It had been a week since you last saw Joel. He kept you up to date with messages and calls every so often, but he and Tommy had been super busy with a job site. You were still at your desk in your dorm, drawing in your sketchbook, when Faith burst in dramatically with balloons and a gift bag.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU, HAPPYYYYY BIRTHDAY!” Faith sang in a deep, raspy voice, pretending to be a jazz singer, making you laugh. “HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!” She put the stuff down and got down on her knees, taking your hand and making you laugh even harder. “My lovely hot best friend, 21 and as sexy as ever!” She dragged you up out of your chair. “A bar full of hot men is needed to celebrate now that you can drink legally.”

You couldn't help but smile at her infectious energy. “Faith, you’re crazy,” you said, but you let her pull you to your feet.

"Crazy about celebrating my best friend’s birthday!" Faith declared, grabbing your coat and practically shoving it into your hands with a gleeful urgency. "Come on, we’re hitting up the best dive bar in town. Drinks, dancing, and maybe a little bit of trouble!"

There was no way you could say no to Faith, especially not on your birthday. You hurried to get ready, slipping on your favorite dress—a deep blue number that hugged your curves in all the right places—and a pair of heels that gave you just the right amount of height. You quickly did your makeup, adding a touch of shimmer to your eyelids and a bold swipe of red lipstick.

As you both stepped out into the cool night air, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was your first time celebrating your birthday since you and Joel had started seeing each other, and the thought of him not knowing it was your birthday left a strange feeling in your chest. But tonight, you decided to focus on having fun with Faith.

The dive bar Faith chose was lively and buzzing with energy. Neon lights flickered, casting colorful glows across the room. The sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and upbeat music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was both intoxicating and inviting.

“To the birthday girl!” Faith cheered, raising her glass.

“To a night of fun!” you replied, clinking your glass against hers before downing the shot. The burn of the alcohol was invigorating, and you felt yourself loosening up as the evening progressed.

As you sipped on your cocktail, Faith leaned in with a mischievous grin. “So, how’s it really going with Joel? Is he keeping up with your needs?”

You blushed, looking down at your drink. “It’s been... interesting. He’s supportive and kind, but sometimes it feels overwhelming. Like, I don’t know if I can keep up with everything he wants.”

Faith raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is it the sex?”

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. “No, it’s more than that. It’s just everything happening so fast. I’m trying to adjust, but it’s not easy.”

Faith nodded understandingly. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in. But if anyone can handle it, it’s you. Just take it one day at a time.”

You smiled, feeling grateful for her support. “Thanks, Faith. I needed to hear that.”

Faith took a sip of her drink and gave you a probing look. “So, what are the rules with you and Joel? Like, are you exclusive or...?”

You hesitated, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “We don’t really have any rules. We never talked about it, so I don’t know what’s okay and what’s not. It’s confusing.”

Faith’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you’re seeing this guy, and you don’t even know if you can flirt with other guys or not? That’s... kind of messed up.”

You bit your lip, feeling even more unsure. “I know. It’s just... everything’s been moving so fast, and with him being so busy, we haven’t had a chance to sit down and talk about it.”

Faith shook her head, a hint of frustration in her voice. “Girl, you need to get this sorted. You can’t just be in limbo, not knowing where you stand. It’s not fair to you.”

You sighed, swirling your drink. “I know. I just don’t want to pressure him, especially with everything going on. But at the same time, I need to know what’s okay and what’s not.”

Faith leaned in closer, her tone a mix of concern and determination. “You have to talk to him. Otherwise, you’re just going to drive yourself crazy. And if he can’t give you a straight answer, then maybe he’s not the right guy for you.”

You nodded, appreciating her honesty. “You’re right. I need to talk to him.”

Later, as you both sat at the bar, catching your breath, Faith nudged you playfully. “You know, Joel might be busy now, but he’ll come around. And when he does, he better make it up to you for missing your birthday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “He didn’t even know it was my birthday, Faith.”

Faith’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Seriously? Oh man, we have to make sure he makes it up to you big time.”

You shrugged, trying to hide the small pang of disappointment. “It’s okay. He’s got a lot on his plate.”

“Well, tonight is about you,” Faith declared, raising her glass once more. “To you, and to the best year yet!”

“To the best year yet,” you echoed, clinking your glass with hers. As you looked around the bar, filled with laughter and life, a renewed sense of determination welled up inside you. You would figure things out with Joel, one step at a time. But for now, you were going to enjoy your birthday, surrounded by the love and support of your best friend.

The night continued in a whirlwind of laughter, dancing, and drinks. The dive bar, with its pulsating music and dim neon lights, became a haven of freedom. Faith, ever the life of the party, had you dancing on tables and belting out karaoke songs with a fervor that had the entire bar cheering.

You laughed until your sides ached, twirling around the dance floor with Faith as your partner in crime. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the vibrant, intoxicating atmosphere of the bar. Faith's infectious energy kept you going, her enthusiasm pushing you to let loose and embrace the moment.

“Another round!” Faith shouted, her voice slurring slightly as she ordered more shots. You both downed the fiery liquid, the alcohol coursing through your veins and amplifying the sense of reckless abandon.

Somewhere between the third and fourth shot, you found yourself on the dance floor, the music a throbbing backdrop to your blurry vision. Faith was right beside you, her arm around your shoulder as you both swayed to the rhythm.

“You know,” Faith said, her voice loud in your ear over the music, “we should call Joel. Get him down here to celebrate properly!”

You blinked, the thought swirling in your foggy mind. “Faith, he’s busy,” you managed to say, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

Faith waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense! He needs to be here! It’s your birthday, after all!” She fumbled for her phone, her fingers slipping on the screen.

“You sure?” you asked, the idea of Joel seeing you in such a state making you both nervous and excited.

“Absolutely!” Faith declared, her determination unwavering despite her drunken state. She tapped away on her phone, her face illuminated by the screen. “There, message sent. Now we wait!”

As the minutes ticked by, you both continued to drink and laugh, the world around you becoming a blur of colors and sounds. Faith convinced you to join her in another round of shots, and you lost track of how many you had consumed.

The bar seemed to spin around you, and you clung to Faith, giggling uncontrollably. “I love you, Faith,” you slurred, the words coming out in a jumbled mess. “You’re the best friend ever.”

Faith grinned, her eyes equally glazed. “And I love you, birthday girl. This is the best night ever!” She raised her glass, though it wobbled in her grip. “To us!”

“To us!” you echoed, though your coordination was failing. The glasses clinked precariously, spilling some of the contents onto the bar.

Time became a haze, and the last thing you remembered was Faith’s voice, insistent and a bit more serious. “Okay, maybe we should... we should call Joel again. Make sure he knows... knows we need him.”

You nodded, though the movement made the room tilt. “Yeah, good idea.”

Faith tried to dial his number, her hands barely cooperating. After a few attempts, she thrust the phone into your hands. “You do it. I can’t... can’t see straight.”

With some effort, you managed to find Joel’s contact and hit call. The phone rang and rang, and just as you were about to give up, his voice came through, sounding distant and concerned.

“Hey?”

“Joel!” you practically shouted, your words slurring together. “We’re... we’re at the bar. You should come... come here.”

There was a pause on the other end, then Joel’s voice, a mixture of confusion and worry. “Are you okay? Where exactly are you?”

You turned to Faith, trying to remember the name of the bar. She mumbled something incoherent, and you relayed the message as best as you could. “We’re at... at the Dive Shack. Come celebrate... my birthday.”

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice firm. “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”

The call ended, and you handed the phone back to Faith, a triumphant smile on your face. “He’s coming.”

Faith cheered, though it came out as more of a drunken squeal. “Joel to the rescue!”

As the night wore on, you and Faith continued your wild celebration, oblivious to the time or the curious glances from the other patrons. The bar seemed to tilt and spin, the neon lights blurring into streaks of color.

Eventually, you felt a pair of strong hands on your shoulders, steadying you. You turned to see Joel’s familiar face, his expression a mix of relief and mild exasperation.

“Alright, ladies,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Time to get you both home.”

Faith giggled, leaning heavily against him. “Joel! You made it! We were just... just talking about you.”

Joel shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “I can see that. Let’s get you both out of here.”

Joel managed to steer you and Faith out of the bar, his strong arms supporting both of you as you stumbled along the sidewalk. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the bar, and it helped clear your head a little.

Joel’s truck was parked nearby, and he carefully helped you into the passenger seat, making sure you were buckled in before turning his attention to Faith. She was swaying slightly, a goofy grin on her face as she leaned against the side of the truck.

“Faith, come on, let’s get you in the back seat,” Joel said, his voice gentle but firm.

Faith giggled, clumsily climbing into the back of the truck. “Joel, you’re such a hero,” she said, her words slurring together.

Joel sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “Just doing what I can.”

Once you were both secured, Joel climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine and the occasional murmurs from Faith the only sounds breaking the silence. You leaned your head against the window, the cool glass soothing your throbbing head.

When you arrived at Joel’s place, he carefully helped you both out of the truck and into the house. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of comfort, and you felt your body relax a little as Joel guided you inside.

“Alright, you two sit tight for a minute,” Joel said, helping you and Faith onto the couch. “I’m going to call Tommy to come pick up Faith.”

You nodded, your head feeling heavy as you leaned back against the cushions. Faith, however, had other ideas. As soon as Joel stepped into the other room to make the call, she quietly got up and made her way over to Joel’s mini bar.

“Faith, what are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur.

Faith grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Just one more drink to celebrate, okay? Joel’s got some good stuff here.”

You groaned, knowing this was a bad idea. “Faith, we’ve had enough.”

Faith ignored you, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She poured a generous amount into each glass and handed one to you. “Come on, just one more. For your birthday.”

You hesitated, but Faith’s infectious energy and the lingering effects of the alcohol made it hard to resist. You took the glass, clinking it against hers. “Just one more,” you agreed, taking a sip.

The burn of the whiskey was both familiar and comforting, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. Faith giggled, taking another sip of her drink. “See? This is how you celebrate.”

Joel returned just as you were finishing your drink, his eyes widening in surprise. “Faith, seriously? More drinks?”

Faith shrugged, a playful smile on her face. “Just one more for the birthday girl.”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, enough. Tommy’s on his way. Let’s just sit down and wait for him.”

He guided you both back to the couch, sitting down next to you and taking the glass from your hand. “You alright?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Joel.”

Joel gave you a reassuring smile, his hand gently squeezing yours. “Good. We’ll get Faith home, and then you can get some rest.”

A few minutes later, Tommy arrived, his expression a mix of amusement and concern as he took in the scene. “Looks like you two had quite the night,” he said, shaking his head with a grin.

Joel helped Faith up, guiding her towards Tommy. “She’s all yours. Thanks for coming to get her.”

Tommy chuckled, taking Faith’s arm. “No problem. You two get some rest.”

As Tommy and Faith left, Joel turned to you, his expression softening. Joel gently guided you to the couch, but the alcohol coursing through your veins made it difficult to stay quiet. As he pulled the covers up around you, the frustration and confusion of the past few weeks bubbled to the surface.

“Joel,” you began, your voice slurred but laced with bitterness. “Why are you so busy all the time?”

Joel paused, his hand lingering on the edge of the blanket. “You know how it is, the job site’s been hectic. But I’m here now.”

You shook your head, the room spinning slightly with the motion. “It’s not just tonight, Joel. It feels like you’re always too busy. I barely see you, and when I do, it’s like I’m just an afterthought.”

Joel’s expression tightened, his patience wearing thin. “I’m doing my best to make this work. Maybe you could try understanding that.”

You sat up suddenly, the alcohol making you bold and reckless. “It's not just that. It’s... it’s the contract. I can’t stop thinking about it. We never even talked about it.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion. “The contract? What do you mean?”

You felt a surge of anger, your words spilling out in a rush. “I don’t know where I stand with you, Joel. Are we exclusive? Am I allowed to go out and flirt with other guys? I don’t even know the rules!”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought we were on the same page. Do you really need everything spelled out for you?”

“How could we be on the same page when we haven’t even read the same book?” you shot back, your voice rising. “I need to know what’s okay and what’s not. I need to know where I stand with you.”

Joel’s face tightened with frustration. “We’re together, aren’t we? I thought that was clear. Do I really need to put it in writing for you?”

Your anger flared again, the alcohol amplifying your emotions. “You know what else I can’t stop thinking about? How you ate me out but haven’t even taken my virginity yet. What the hell is that about?”

Joel’s eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled over his words. “I... I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to make sure you were ready.”

“Ready?” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve been dancing around this for a month, Joel. Do you even want me, or am I just some project to you?”

Joel moved closer, his expression hardening. “Of course I want you. But you can’t have it both ways. One minute you’re saying I’m rushing you, the next you’re saying I’m not moving fast enough. Make up your mind.”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, and you struggled to form coherent thoughts. “I don’t know what I want! I just know this... this isn’t working. I feel lost, Joel.”

Joel’s tone turned cold. “Maybe if you stopped overthinking everything and just let things happen, you’d be happier. But no, you have to question everything, complicate everything.”

You pulled away, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt. “I need clarity, Joel. I need to know what this is.”

“Fine,” Joel said, his voice flat. “We’re together. We’re exclusive. Happy now?”

You shook your head, feeling the room spin again. “It’s not that simple. I need to feel secure, to know you’re committed.”

Joel’s patience snapped. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve been trying to balance everything—work, you, my own life. But it’s never enough for you, is it?”

You bit your lip, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “We need to figure this out, Joel. I need to know where I stand with you.”

Joel nodded curtly. “We will. But for now, get some rest. Maybe things will look different in the morning.”

You lay back down, the exhaustion and emotions finally overtaking you. Joel stayed by your side, but his presence felt more like a reminder of the tension between you than a comfort. As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from resolved.

The sunlight streamed through the window, intensifying the pounding in your head. You groaned, trying to bury yourself deeper into the couch cushions, but it was no use. The hangover had its grip on you, and there was no escaping it.

Joel walked in, a smug grin on his face. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

You squinted up at him, your head feeling like it was being squeezed in a vise. “What time is it?” you mumbled.

“Almost noon,” Joel replied, handing you a glass of water and some painkillers. “Thought you might need these.”

You took them gratefully, gulping down the water. “Thanks. I feel like death.”

Joel chuckled, sitting down next to you. “I’m not surprised. You drank enough to knock out a linebacker last night. I didn’t know you had such a high tolerance.”

You winced, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. “Yeah, well, I don’t usually drink like that. Guess I found my limit.”

Joel’s grin widened. “You found it alright. But hey, at least you can finally drink legally now. No more sneaking around.”

You managed a weak smile, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly. “True. One perk of turning 21.”

Joel’s expression turned more serious, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “So, how much do you remember about last night?”

You frowned, trying to sift through the hazy memories. “Bits and pieces. I remember Faith dragging me to a bar and us having a few too many drinks. After that, it’s kind of a blur.”

Joel leaned back, crossing his arms. “Interesting. You were pretty chatty last night. Said some things you might not remember.”

Your heart sank, a sense of dread creeping in. “Like what?”

Joel’s grin returned, a bit too gleeful for your liking. “Oh, you know, just some deep, heartfelt confessions about our relationship. But don’t worry, nothing too serious.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge his expression. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, still grinning. “You were just really honest about how you’ve been feeling. But it’s fine, we can talk about it later when you’re feeling better.”

You felt a surge of anxiety. “Joel, please, just tell me what I said.”

Joel laughed softly, patting your hand. “Relax, it’s nothing bad. You were just a bit emotional, that’s all. It was actually kind of cute. I’ll tell you all about it once you’ve recovered.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never drinking that much again.”

Joel leaned in, his tone turning teasing. “Well, now you know your limit. And hey, at least you got all those feelings out in the open. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

You peered up at him through your fingers, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. “I guess so. But can we just pretend last night didn’t happen?”

Joel smirked, shaking his head. “No can do. But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. Just try to remember next time that you’re a lightweight.”

You managed a weak laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Deal. And thanks for taking care of me last night.”

Joel’s expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. “Anytime. Now, let’s get you something to eat. You’ll feel better with some food in your system.”

It had been a few days since the night out with Faith and the unexpected, blurry encounter with Joel. Life resumed its usual pace, filled with classes, assignments, and late-night study sessions. Despite trying to focus, your mind often drifted back to that night. You hadn’t seen Joel since then, but he had been texting sporadically, his messages lacking their usual warmth and enthusiasm. Something felt off, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted between you.

You were at your desk, working on a school assignment, when Faith barged into your dorm room with her usual energy. “Hey, birthday girl! How’s it going?”

You looked up from your laptop, managing a small smile. “Hey, Faith. Just drowning in work as usual.”

Faith flopped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Well, I’m here to rescue you. We need to talk about your birthday night and what’s been going on since then.”

You sighed, setting aside your laptop. “Honestly, it’s been weird. Joel’s been acting kind of distant. I don’t know if it’s because of something I did or what.”

Faith’s eyes widened with interest. “Spill the details. What happened after we called him to pick us up?”

You frowned, trying to piece together the foggy memories. “I remember arguing with him, but it’s all a blur. I was pretty drunk, and I don’t remember everything I said.”

Faith sat up, a serious expression on her face. “Do you think you said something that upset him?”

You shrugged, feeling a knot of worry in your stomach. “Maybe. But he hasn’t mentioned it. He’s just been... odd. Like, he’s texting me, but it feels different. Distant.”

Faith pursed her lips, thinking. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“No,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m not sure if he’s mad at me or if something else is going on.”

Faith stood up, determination in her eyes. “Well, let’s get you out of this funk. How about we go out for a coffee or something? Clear your head?”

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

As you both grabbed your coats and headed out, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety. What if things were changing with Joel? You pushed the thought aside, focusing on Faith’s chatter as you walked to the nearby café.

The café was cozy, with the comforting aroma of coffee beans and soft background music. You and Faith found a corner table, and she immediately launched into a story about her latest class project, making you laugh and momentarily forget your worries.

Midway through your latte, your phone buzzed with a message. You glanced at the screen and saw it was from Joel.

“Finished the big project. Want to celebrate tonight? Dinner at 7?”

You stared at the message, a mix of relief and apprehension washing over you. Before you could respond, Faith leaned over to read the screen.

“Ooh, dinner date! Looks like he wants to make things right,” she said, winking.

You bit your lip, unsure. “I don’t know. What if it’s awkward?”

Faith waved her hand dismissively. “Just go. Talk things out. And if he’s being weird, call him out on it. You deserve to know what’s going on.”

With Faith’s encouragement, you texted back.

“Sure. 7 sounds good. See you then.”

Joel responded quickly.

“Great. I’ll pick you up”.

You spent the rest of the afternoon working on your assignment, though your mind kept drifting to the upcoming dinner. As the clock ticked closer to 7, Faith took charge, helping you pick out an outfit and doing your hair.

“You look amazing,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “Joel’s going to kick himself for acting weird.”

You smiled, though the nerves in your stomach hadn’t eased. “Thanks, Faith. I just hope we can clear the air tonight.”

When Joel arrived, he was dressed sharply, holding a bouquet of flowers that added a touch of elegance to the evening. You felt a flicker of hope at the sight, though the cautious tension between you was hard to ignore.

The restaurant he chose was upscale, with dim lighting and a sophisticated ambiance. As you both settled into a corner table, Joel ordered a bottle of red wine. The waiter asked for your ID, and you fumbled slightly before handing it over. Joel, of course, wasn’t IDed, which made you feel a bit self-conscious.

Once the waiter left, Joel leaned back in his chair, giving you a warm smile. “You look amazing tonight,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious.

“Thanks,” you replied, returning the smile. “You look pretty good yourself.”

The wine arrived, and the waiter poured two glasses. Joel raised his glass. “To finishing projects and new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” you echoed, clinking your glass against his. The wine was rich and smooth, and the warmth spread through you as you took a sip.

Joel’s demeanor was celebratory, almost too much so. He didn’t mention the argument from your birthday, acting as if nothing had happened. His eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and charm, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in despite the lingering tension.

The conversation meandered through light topics—work, mutual friends, plans for the summer. You found yourself relaxing slightly, the wine helping to ease your nerves. Joel was attentive and flirty, his hand occasionally brushing yours, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer than usual.

Halfway through the meal, Joel reached into his wallet and pulled out a check, casually placing it on the table. Your eyes widened as you saw the amount—$300,000, the payment from the auction. You almost choked on your wine.

“Joel, what’s this?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and confusion.

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s the payment from the auction. I thought you should see it.”

You stared at the check, feeling a mix of awe and uncertainty. “That’s a lot of money.”

“It is,” he agreed, taking another sip of his wine. “But it’s for us. To help us start something new. I didn’t want it to be about the money. I wanted it to be about us.”

You nodded, still processing the magnitude of the situation. “This is... overwhelming.”

Joel reached across the table, taking your hand. “I know. But we’ll figure it out together.”

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of delicious food and comfortable conversation. Joel’s attentiveness and charm made it easy to forget the argument from your birthday, though a part of you still felt a lingering unease.

As dessert arrived, Joel leaned in, his expression turning more serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, his eyes searching yours. “I know things have been intense, and I’ve been busy, but I want you to know that I’m serious about this. About us.”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. “I’ve been thinking a lot too.”

Joel took a deep breath, his gaze steady. “I want you to move in with me. I think it’s the next step for us.”

The proposition hung in the air between you. Your mind raced with thoughts and feelings. “Move in with you?” you echoed, trying to process the idea.

“Yeah,” Joel said, his tone earnest. “I know it’s a big step, but I want to build a life with you. I want to come home to you.”

You looked down at your hands, your mind spinning. “Joel, we’ve only known each other for a month. This is all so fast.”

He nodded, understanding. “I know it’s fast, but sometimes you just know, you know? And I know I want this. I want you.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “I don’t know, Joel. It’s a lot to take in.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “Take your time to think about it. There’s no rush. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

You nodded, appreciating his patience. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

As Joel walked you back to your dorm room door after dinner, the air between you was charged with a mix of anticipation and lingering tension. When you reached your door, you turned to him with a playful grin.

"You know, Joel, you've seen your home, but you haven't seen mine yet."

Joel chuckled softly. "True enough. Lead the way."

Entering your dorm, you gestured around the cozy space filled with art supplies, books, and posters of your favorite artists. "Sorry for the mess," you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"It's not a mess," Joel reassured you, looking around with interest. "It's... lived-in."

You chuckled. "Lived-in, exactly."

Joel wandered over to your desk, where your sketchbook lay open with various drawings scattered across the pages. He picked up the sketchbook and flipped through it, admiring your talent.

"I didn't know you were this talented," he remarked, his voice soft with genuine admiration.

Blushing slightly, you replied, "Thanks. Drawing helps me unwind."

Joel nodded, setting the sketchbook down and turning to face you. "I meant what I said earlier. I want us to figure things out together."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a rush of emotions. "I want that too."

Taking a deep breath, you moved to your dresser, grabbing a comfortable T-shirt and leggings to change into. "I'll be right back," you said, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment.

When you returned, Joel was sitting on the edge of your bed, holding your sketchbook. He had ripped a blank page from it, now studying it with a thoughtful expression.

"What's that?" you asked, stepping closer.

Joel looked up, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I found a blank page and thought I'd leave you a note."

You smiled warmly, touched by the gesture. "Thank you," you murmured.

Joel set the sketchbook aside and patted the space beside him on the bed. "Come here."

You joined him, sitting close enough that your shoulders brushed. There was a comfortable silence between you, a sense of closeness and understanding that felt reassuring.

As Joel sat on your bed, he looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, there are a few things I've been thinking about," he began, his tone light and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, curious and a bit apprehensive. "Oh?"

Joel grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper. "I made a little list," he confessed, handing it to you.

You took the paper, unfolding it to reveal Joel's neat handwriting. It listed a few bullet points, clearly meant as a mini contract, to outline your relationship's next steps and boundaries without overwhelming you :

1. Take your virginity – When you're ready, we'll take this step together.

2. Try a new restaurant every month – To explore and enjoy new experiences together.

3. Teach you how to play guitar – Sharing a passion and learning something new.

4. Move in with me – Start our life together in my place.

5. Exclusivity – We are committed to each other, no dating or flirting with others.

You looked up at Joel, feeling a mix of emotions. He smiled warmly, his voice soft but firm. "I thought this might help us both know where we stand and what we're looking forward to. No pressure, just a guideline."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief mixed with anticipation. "I appreciate this, Joel. It makes things clearer."

Joel leaned in, his tone becoming more playful. "And remember, these are just starting points. We can add or adjust as we go along. The important thing is that we communicate and take things at our own pace."

You felt a smile spread across your face, the tension easing as you considered the list. "I like that," you said, feeling more confident about your future together.

As you processed his words, Joel's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "You look stunning tonight," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you smiled shyly. "Thanks, Joel."

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your lips. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and affection. "Every moment we're apart feels like an eternity."

Your heart raced as Joel's lips hovered just inches from yours. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, drawing you closer together. Unable to resist any longer, you closed the gap, your lips meeting in a tender, passionate kiss.

Joel's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. His hand tangled in your hair, while his other hand trailed down your back, sending shivers through your body. You responded eagerly, your hands exploring his broad shoulders and strong back.

As the kiss grew more intense, Joel's playful side emerged. He nipped at your lower lip, making you gasp. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he said with a grin, his voice husky with desire.

You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his flirty demeanor. "Good," you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Because you're driving me crazy too."

Joel's eyes sparkled with mischief as he captured your lips again, this time with more urgency. The room seemed to fade away as you lost yourselves in each other, the connection between you growing stronger with every passing second.

The air between you and Joel grew thick with anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire. His hands roamed your body, fingers tracing the curve of your waist as he pulled you closer. Your breaths mingled, the heat building between you with every passing second.

Joel's lips moved from your mouth to your neck, planting a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling with both excitement and need. His response was a low growl, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly to expose more of your skin.

Just as things were about to escalate further, the door suddenly swung open, and Faith barged in. "Hey, I was just—" She stopped abruptly, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. A mischievous giggle escaped her lips, and she quickly shut the door. "Oops, sorry!" she called out from the hallway.

The interruption brought you both back to reality. Joel sighed, resting his forehead against yours. "Seems like we have terrible timing," he said with a chuckle, though his eyes still burned with unfulfilled desire.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. "Yeah, you could say that."

Joel pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist. "We’ll have our moment, don’t worry," he reassured you, his voice tender. "But I should probably get going now. We don’t want to give Faith any more reason to gossip."

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment but understanding the situation. Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before stepping back. "Text me later, okay?" he said, giving you one last lingering look before he left.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Faith burst back into the room, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Oh my God, what did I just walk in on?" she exclaimed, flopping onto your bed with a dramatic sigh.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. "Nothing, Faith. Just... a moment."

"Just a moment?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Looked like a pretty steamy moment to me. Come on, spill. What were you two up to?"

You sighed, sitting down next to her. "We were just talking, and things got a little... heated."

Faith's eyes widened with excitement. "Heated, huh? So, did you two...?"

"No!" you interrupted quickly, blushing furiously. "It didn’t go that far. You interrupted us, remember?"

Faith giggled, not looking the least bit sorry. "Well, you’re welcome for saving you from potential awkwardness. But seriously, how was it? Joel seems like he’d be a great kisser."

You couldn't help but smile at the memory. "He is," you admitted softly. "He’s... amazing."

Faith smirked, nudging you playfully. "Sounds like you’re really falling for him. But just be careful, okay? He’s got that whole mysterious, brooding thing going on. Make sure you know what you’re getting into."

You nodded, appreciating her concern. "I will, Faith. Thanks."

Faith leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "So, what’s next? You two planning another hot makeout session?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don’t know. We’re taking things one step at a time."

Faith grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, just make sure to give me a heads-up next time. I’d hate to walk in on another 'moment.'"

You laughed again, feeling a sense of relief and camaraderie. "I’ll do my best," you promised, grateful for her nosy but well-meaning presence.

As you and Faith continued to chat, your phone buzzed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you saw Joel's name and felt a flutter of excitement and curiosity.

“Hey, I wanted to make it up to you for missing your birthday. How about a trip next weekend? Don’t worry about the details, just clear your schedule.”

You felt a rush of emotions, a mix of anticipation and relief. Joel was always full of surprises, and this gesture felt particularly significant after the rocky patch you’d been navigating.

"Who’s that?" Faith asked, peering over your shoulder with a grin.

"It’s Joel," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. "He wants to take me on a trip next weekend. He said not to worry about the details and just clear my schedule."

Faith’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Ooh, a romantic getaway! Sounds like he’s trying to make up for missing your birthday. That’s so sweet!"

You nodded, feeling a warm glow of happiness. "Yeah, it is. I guess he really does want to make things right."

Faith nudged you playfully. "So, where do you think he’s taking you? Somewhere exotic? A cozy cabin in the woods?"

You shrugged, a dreamy look in your eyes. "I have no idea. Knowing Joel, it could be anywhere. He loves surprises."

Faith grinned, clearly enjoying your excitement. "Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be amazing. Just make sure to take lots of pictures and tell me all about it when you get back."

You laughed, feeling a sense of gratitude for her enthusiasm. "I will. Thanks for always being so supportive, Faith."

"Anytime, girl," she said, giving you a reassuring hug. "Now, let’s get you ready for this trip. We need to pick out the perfect outfits and make sure you’re prepared for anything."

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dykefever · 2 years ago

Note

ello laura i do not usually open blocked tags but i did out of curiosity n stumbled across ur post abt the apparent height disk horse that is happening rn (<-blissfully unaware). also this is the ghost of marxismlupinism btw sending as an anon cause on my main blog idk what a semus and ririus is never heard of them cunts.

anyway I wanted to say that yeah basically it's like such a non issue if people are casting r&s into gendered roles, like even if people were genderbending rs into a literal cishet couple I could not care less who gives a shit it's harry potter fanfiction.

that being said I think it's very telling abt the hp fandom that the whole like "writing s as 'feminine' and a bottom comes with him being short" (which btw... i mean I'm sure there's some fanfic like that but I can't say I've really read more than like 5 fics that fit that description? and I've unfortunately read a lot of rs fic lmao... it's literally not hard to avoid. skill issue if you can't filter the fanfic you read to not have it) is portrayed as homophobia against [cis] gay men instead of the obvious transmisogyny it is—ie setting smallness & youth as standards of femininity. that's why so many closeted trans women/trans women who can't access hrt dread growing older, that's why so much emphasis is put on age of transition in transfem spaces, and that's why even gay man spaces have concepts of "twink death", because femininity is understood to be hairless and pretty and dainty and youthful and small and all these standards that are difficult to achieve if you've been through androgenic puberty and/or if you have testes that continue to produce testosterone that continues to masculinise your body as you grow older. portraying s (or any given character ime when it comes to tme fans in fandom spaces) as feminine is seen as going hand in hand with physically feminising him—bc femininity that's not on a feminised body is obviously met with disgust, it's unattractive, it's horrifying, etc. and the obvious source of the tendency to portray feminine male characters this way is that there's only one acceptable form of camab femininity (or "acceptable", even that is very conditional). and yes it does affect cis gays like I said above w how gay men talk about eg "twink death" but that doesn't mean it's not a primarily transmisogynistic impulse to show that, for most of us, femininity is a hopeless cause, it's not allowed, we'll never pass or be beautiful or whatever.

and ftr I'm just complaining, I definitely don't think the solution is to produce More Harry Potter Fanfictions where s is like, tall and hairy and feminine or whatever, knowing the hp fandom I'm sure they'll also turn that into transmisogynistic caricatures too. the only real solution would be for all these ppl to stop reading hp fanfic and start reading transfeminist theory but if ur a harry potter fan in 2023 you're obviously never gonna do that. so. yeah just complaining for the sake of complaining lol not expecting transfeminism to catch on among harry potter fans of all people anytime soon

hi (redacted)!! actually made sure to tag that post so u and all my other normal followers could avoid it but i respect the curiosity x im sure you've probably seen the height discourse many times over in your time in the fandom and it's the same absolute bullshit every time. i appreciate your additions to this post as a transwoman because i obviously don't have that perspective and you've kind of deepened my understanding of the issues around it n how transmisogyny comes into play here!!

in my prev posts i was kind of addressing, albeit likely not clearly, how people often say they dislike 'short s' as a kind of shorthand for saying they dislike 'fem s', which is really saying (as people dig themselves deeper in their explanations) that they don't like certain aspects of 'femininity' in a man and then spin it to say that it's because they're writing a heteronormative relationship onto a gay couple. i appreciate what you're saying here as well of the issues of the only way to write s as feminine is like small, dainty, hairless etc. and how that is an issue of transmisogyny rather than like homophobia. (correct me if i've misunderstood tho!!)

at the end of the day it definitely like, doesn't matter how people are writing hp characters like no great and impressive change is happening and the fandom is full of too many transphobes for that to be the case. i just don't understand why people are so pressed by these certain characterisations they appear to dislike so bad when i genuinely barely come across these s characterisations they apparently can't escape. like i don't see anything i don't want to because i just unfollow and block people ....it is not that hard like...

anyway thank u for ur contributions ghost of marxismlupinism, i appreciate it xx godspeed xx

#harry potter #answered

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highwayorgantrade · 2 years ago

Text

I Can't

Pairing: fem!reader x John Price

Request: "hey whore can i pls have a fic where price saves the reader's ass and then professes his love but like in a captain price im a hard ass way thx stinker butt” by @quizzyisdone

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injury, cursing, brief mentions of torture, Price being a dick.

Author’s Note:

quizzy I could've seen this coming a mile away, but wait! am I now attracted to him? reader's code name is echo.

Being in the hospital was embarrassing.

Well, it was embarrassing for you. You weren’t the type to mess up that badly. For days, the only people who spoke to you were nurses, doctors, and the occasional psychiatrist. It was frustrating, listening to your company whisper about you, and it only added to the frustration of allowing yourself to get hurt, and even worse: get saved.

“Isn’t that Echo? I thought she wasn’t able to get caught.”

“Looks like I’ve caught you.” You felt your heart stop when cool metal pressed into the back of your head. Ice ran through your veins, and your hands froze on the sniper rifle that was positioned in front of you.

You had every advantage point, your high-caliber scope could catch even the most minute details from the cliff. Your mission was simple, and it was one you had done a thousand times before: Protect Task Force 141.

“Go ahead, kill me.” You finally responded, indignantly. In reality, you just wanted the fear that struck your heart to leave. Whoever it was, you knew they wouldn’t let you go. You wanted this situation to be over, as soon as possible. Your communication device crackled to life, and Captain Price’s voice came in, causing your anxiety to worsen. Please, Price, don’t say anything confidential.

“Echo, status?”

Instinctively, your hand reached toward the walkie, and you were met with a shocking crack across the back of your head. White spots blinded your vision, and a buzz settled in your ears, loud enough so you could barely hear John’s voice again.

“Echo, please confirm status.” He instructed, sounding a bit more aggravated, like you had gotten distracted by the flowers, and not by an enemy holding you at the wrong end of a gun.

“Tell him you are fine.” The voice behind you spoke, and you felt blood begin to drip its way down your face and neck.

“Are you going to hit me again?” You taunted weakly, but stiffened when you felt a boot on your back. “Fine.”

You held the side of the walkie, and waited.

“Price, this is Echo.” You took a deep breath. “Price, I’ve been made, don’t say anything-.” You didn’t even hear the butt of the gun meeting the back of your head, all you felt was a ripping pain, and a burning anger before your vision was overwhelmed by darkness.

“Privates Andrés and McDonough, do you get paid to gossip?” John’s harsh voice cut through the silence, and pulled you back to reality. The men didn’t even respond, all you could hear were their boots quickly walking away from your room. Finally, he appeared in the doorway of your room, crowding the frame. A scowl was apparent on his face, and he barely looked at you before casting his eyes to the wall behind you.

“You look upset.” You noted, and to be honest, you were a little annoyed he was mad at you.

“Upset doesn’t cover it. You were completely unfocused.” He hissed, and anger ate at your throat.

“I’m alive. Everybody’s alive. The mission was successful. Do any of these sentences sound incorrect to you?” You knew you shouldn’t be like this, that you should be grateful he found you. His fist clenched, and he finally took you in.

“I’m so glad that the bare minimum is enough for you, Echo.” The strained venom in his voice was obvious. “Do you know? Do you know what you looked like when we found you?”

“I had decided to take a nap, so I didn’t have time to look in the mirror.”

At this, Price stiffened, and you knew you hit some kind of nerve. In lieu of responding, he walked over to the door of your room, and shut it quietly. His back stayed turned to you, and you prepared yourself for him to yell at you for your insubordination.

“You looked like you were already dead.” Price whispered, barely audibly, and your heart softened. “You were pale, and the way they put you in that car was like they were carrying a body.” He turned back to you, but his gaze was cast at the floor. “Gaz had to check for your pulse, I couldn’t… I didn’t want to. Do you know how many men I killed getting to you?” John’s voice cracked, and he sat down on the bed next to you.

“I still don’t understand why you’re so mad at me. If it was such a hassle, why even bother? Why did you even come here to visit me? Nobody’s talked to me in days!” Bitterness poisoned your voice, and you gripped your sheets, a brand new headache introducing itself.

“Because they feel bad! We all feel bad!” He barked, standing up again. “Echo, I can’t-.” He cut himself off, running a hand over his facial hair.

“You can’t? You can’t what?” You pushed. “You keep saying ‘I can’t, I couldn’t,’ what can’t you do?” You matched his volume as defiance reared its ugly head.

“I can’t think about what it would be like without you!” John yelled, slamming his fist against the counter, causing you to jump. “If you had died, who would take your place? Who would sit in your seat at the bar? Who would get your bed?” John didn’t allow you to respond before he continued. “Echo, if you had died, it would be like there’s a puzzle piece missing! How dare you ask me why I saved you, why do you think!”

He paced while he rambled, staring at you desperately, begging you to come to your own conclusions. “I’m looking at you in this bed, I saw the way you flinched, and every single person that made you like this, I want their blood on my hands.” A coldness creeped into his eyes, and you had finally decided: enough was enough. You needed to know exactly what he was trying to say, because so far, it has fallen on deaf ears.

“Price, just say it.” His shoulders dropped, and you saw his lips twitch as he tried to form the words.

“I couldn’t live with myself if you never knew how I feel about you. How I see you.” He spoke slowly, like his words would break you. “You are… The single bright spot I have. Your jokes over comms, the way you smile when we meet after a complete mission. When you try to mimic my accent, everything you do, every word you speak, it’s painful knowing you’re not mine.”

Price’s long-winded confession rendered you speechless. You thought back to every time you noticed his gaze lingering on you longer than the rest of the Task Force, but the way he acted toward you gave no indication of his feelings.

Of course, that’s not to say that you haven’t thought of him that way - you’ve wasted a lot of time fumbling over your words around him, taking longer to answer questions because you just got too distracted by his voice, or the way he always made direct eye contact with you. You remember the nights where you would stay awake for hours, overthinking your interactions with him for that day. Or that one time he adjusted your hips for you when you were practicing in the field.

“Please.” He took your hand in his. “Please just tell me to leave, and I will never talk about it again. Everything will go back to normal.”

Your chest tightened when you thought about the implications. Would you have to keep your relationship a secret? What would happen if it wasn’t a secret? No matter the question, the only answer in the back of your mind was that you didn’t care.

“Don’t leave.” You found your voice, and it cut through the hanging silence. “Please stay.” Price stared at you, searching for any sign of hesitation or regret, and when he couldn’t find any, he cupped your jaw with his hand, thumb tracing over the edge of a bandage, and he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“If you ever endanger yourself like that again, there will be severe consequences.” He whispered against your skin, and you smiled, all previous anger and frustration long gone.

“John,” He pulled away from you at his name, and he sat back next you. “Do we keep this a secret?” Your voice was small, and Price’s ensuing laugh made it seem even smaller.

“Task Force knows.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I might’ve complained a lot, and Soap caught on first.”

“And Soap has issues keeping his mouth shut.” You confirmed, rolling your eyes.

“Correct. How much longer do you have to be in here for?” He looked around at the hospital room, like he was just noticing all the machines and the sounds.

“A few more days, but at least the coffee isn’t terrible.” You shrugged, resigned to your fate. John groaned, and he pursed his lips, considering the situation.

“Alright.” He sighed when he stood up again. “Coffee date it is, then."

#john price #captain price #john price x reader

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 4 years ago

Text

Clothing Is Custom, No Labels

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and… the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert, porn with plot, longfic

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader

Warnings: angst!, threats, intimidation

Word count: 4,334

Author’s note: Oh my god, ok, I was stricken with a particularly persistent case of writer's block but I'm finally back! Here we are with part thirteen!! It took me SO long, as you can see 🙈, but I'm super excited for this chapter (even though I say that about every chapter, it's true!) and I'm sorry it isn't a bit longer! But we've got loads of plot development and dialogue, I hope you enjoy it! This one's smut free for now, but don't worry, it'll be back very soon 🔥

Please read the warning above and do not interact with this story if you are a minor! Comments and reblogs always appreciated ❤️

Musical Inspiration: Something In The Way by Nirvana

- Part Thirteen -

Sleep should have been the last thing on your mind as you followed Joker out into the warehouse, but your fatigue was starting to grow stronger than your anxiety by now. You actually had no idea what time it was, but it was late enough that exhaustion was beginning to set in behind your eyes. Or was that just from the wild range of emotions you’d experienced in only one day?

You worked on taking steady breaths while you carefully stepped behind him and watched the bottom of his coat sway around his calves to keep yourself from looking at the handful of men standing nearby. Because they were looking at you, you didn’t need to lift your gaze to know that.

Embarrassment heated your cheeks when you arrived at a table with a few folding chairs around it and looked across the table to lock eyes with the man who’d guarded the office door earlier. He stared back for only a second before averting his eyes and rounding the table to pull a chair out for you, making your face burn even hotter. It almost felt as though you were being treated like one of those posh wives that often accompanied many of your wealthy clients, so superior and self-important. The contrast was ironic, funny really. Instead of a ritzy downtown Gotham restaurant, you were in an abandoned warehouse covered in graffiti. And in place of an affluent husband dressed in a pristine suit, you sat next to the Joker, his distinctive purple coat falling open across his lap as he leaned back in his chair, showing where he’d missed a button on his green vest.

The comparison made your throat go dry and you almost choked when you swallowed against it. You had to get out of your own head if you wanted to get through whatever was about to happen without humiliating yourself further.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Joker’s voice snapped you to attention and not a moment after his statement, a man with black hair slicked back against his head and a pointed nose was lead into the room. Your stomach dropped when you noticed what he was wearing. Black tie, white shirt, navy jacket with silver buttons and a shiny police badge over the left pocket.

The heat drained from your face and all of a sudden you felt compelled to run but you couldn’t move. Instead, you stayed firmly planted in your seat, failing to hide the terror in your face while they sat the man down in a chair across from Joker.

He sighed and licked his lips, lacing his fingers together to rest across his stomach before finally speaking. “What kept you so long, Thomas?”

You noticed the man was trembling slightly and starting to sweat, raising the feeling of dread into your throat before he answered, “I-I got news, boss.”

The cold sinking feeling that had fallen over you suddenly dissolved. You were preparing yourself for what he was about to do to this unfortunate police officer, but it seemed that things were more than they appeared, as you’d learned they often are with him.

“Do you? Well then, do tell,” Joker replied in a mocking tone, looking down at the knife from his pocket he’d begun to toy with.

The man, whose name was apparently Thomas, fought hard to swallow before speaking again. “Dent saw the name a-and started askin’ questions. He was gonna shoot me but the Batman-”

Joker’s eyes flashed up from the knife and Thomas froze in place. His mention of Batman instantly raised the tension level in the room, and you found yourself gripping the seat of your chair.

Keeping the knife in his hand, he leaned over the table and growled, “But the Batman wha-t?”

Thomas forced shaky breaths in and out through his nose, keeping his eyes on Joker’s with his jaw clenched tightly. “He… he stopped ‘im,” he managed to utter without his teeth chattering.

“My hero,” Joker answered derisively before leaning back into his seat.

You let the breath you’d been holding out from between your lips while the man in uniform, his forehead now beaded with sweat, blinked and tried to catch his own breath. Joker must enjoy the power he held over people. Inducing so much fear and anxiety by just looking at them. Your heart fluttered when you thought about the thrill it gave you. It was like you’d had been trained to feel more than fear. He stirred up such a complex arousal within you that was hard to explain, even to yourself. Was it because he made you tremble with pleasure and not with pain?

Then your thoughts were interrupted when Joker spoke again, “Now is there more to this little story of yours, Schiff, or have you wasted my very precious time?”

He kept his dull gaze on Thomas, blinking at him, seemingly bored by the whole situation while the man struggled to speak again, his pursed lips quivering. After his tongue slipped out of this mouth to lick the forked scar on his lip, Joker shifted to stand up and Thomas flinched before blurting out, “He’s turnin’ himself in!”

Joker whipped his head back around to stare at the now visibly shaking man with a new fire in his eyes and you stiffened in your chair. There was that thrill again. Your stomach churned a little as a new thought entered your mind. Yes, he enjoyed the power he held over people, and so did you. The way people would freeze, and their eyes widened. The menace that surrounded him came from so much more than a purple suit and smeared greasepaint. He was becoming some obscure figure or representation of fear. His name had been uttered by almost every citizen in Gotham, spoken with an undertone like it left a bitter taste on their tongues, and it wasn’t even his real name. But to the city of Gotham, it was his real name.

“T-…Tomorrow,” Thomas managed to stammer as Joker’s shadow cast over his face.

He approached him and leaned in close, his towering frame hunched forward at his waist. “Wanted to save the, uh, head-line for last, did ya?”

Thomas’s face grew paler, and he vigorously shook his head as Joker licked his lips with a loud smack before continuing, “My time is precious, Schiff, and it’s a terrible thing to waste.”

You took quick breaths in and out through your nose, the air almost burning the back of your throat, like gasoline. It was him. His scent reached your mind and turned your thoughts to how it felt to have him close, as if the smell of him was enough to absorb you. The shirt. Your eyes glanced down at the blue diamond patterned button-up that covered your body and goosebumps suddenly tickled your skin.

“Now. Before any more of it slips away, why don’t you go with these nice gentlemen so they can collect some de-tails from ya, hm?” he said with faux repose before patting Schiff on the cheek.

Two men that you hadn’t noticed approach made you flinch when they appeared behind the man before each took hold of one of his arms to stand him up from the chair. His gaze finally broke away from Joker’s face to scan over the men, making a soft sound, like a whimper, as they silently escorted him out through the side door.

It slammed and you felt like you’d just been dropped into your chair from where you’d been floating somewhere above it, blinking your eyes as if to clear fog from your vision. The warmth of arousal swiftly faded and the uneasy feeling of eyes on you began to crawl up your back. The room was eerily quiet now and you couldn’t seem to dare yourself to move, you just stared ahead into the darkness on the other end of the warehouse.

Then you nearly jumped out of your chair and gasped when you felt hands rest on your shoulders. “What’s the matter, doll face? Afraid of cops, hm?”

So much for getting out of your own head. Your face heated up once again and you fought against the cascade of nervous impulses trying to take you over before turning your head to see Joker’s gloved hand on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered relentlessly, as if trying to flee from your chest every time you saw him.

“Mm well, no need to worry. Thomasover there works for me.”

It was strange, the contrast between the way he spoke to that man and how he spoke to you. It was hard not to read into it. Part of you knew it was because he wanted something from you, but you couldn’t stop the little rising feeling that maybe you meant something to him. Why would you want that from a man like him? Had you been corrupted that much? The whole thing was enough to make your head spin all over again. But you took a deep breath before your thoughts could consume you and finally lifted your gaze to look at him.

He gazed back at you with heavy eyelids and your heart rose up into your throat, your lips parting as you blinked at him. This was all on purpose. Giving them a show, bringing you out here wearing one of his shirts, making sure they could see you. It should have made you upset, the way he paraded you around, but it made you feel something else. Tingles traveled up your neck and through your burning cheeks as a sense of gratification bloomed in your chest. You were his and he wanted them to know that. Maybe you wanted them to know it too. You wanted them to know that you were his… that you’d slept with Gotham’s most dangerous man.

A small smile appeared on your face, the air carrying the smell of greasepaint and burnt matches as the corner of his mouth stretched into a smirk. Still no sign of the bottom of this rabbit hole.

_______________

The deep darkness of a dreamless sleep lifted as your eyes slowly opened, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings where you found yourself waking. This wasn’t your bedroom. Your mind, still somewhat shrouded by sleep, tried to make sense of where you might be instead before jolting you awake, and it all came back to you. It’d only been one night, but it felt like so many more.

You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen asleep. But you remembered following him back to his office, there were some passing remarks to the men in the room, you thought maybe then you sat down on the bed, but your exhaustion obscured any more details. What time was it?

Raising your arms over your head, you stretched beneath the blanket that had been placed over top of you and took a deep breath of the cool air. After rubbing your eyes, you heard a small sound coming from the little bathroom in the back of the office. Your breath caught in your throat and a flutter of anxiety came over you when you realized you weren’t alone. Holding still, you listened carefully and heard the sound of water running. It must be him, who else would it be? That maddening flutter grew stronger along with the familiar rise of heat in your face. Was that ever going to stop?

Swallowing against the tightness in your throat, you quietly pulled the blanket away and swung your legs over the side of the mattress, your bare feet making contact with the concrete floor. Once your weight settled onto your tip-toes, you carefully took silent steps toward the bathroom. As you approached the doorway, the sound of running water was accompanied by a metallic clink and a low hum.

You cursed your nerves for being so on edge, it was becoming embarrassing at this point. So, in an attempt to boldly ignore your meek apprehension, you took a breath and stepped into the doorway.

The warmth in your cheeks increased ten-fold as your eyes scanned the sight in front of you. Leaning over the sink while a steamy flow of water ran from the tap, Joker’s reflection in the mirror glanced at you without turning around. He was bringing a straight razor to his face, carefully gliding it along his jawline before rinsing it under the tap and bringing it back to take another row of shaving cream. He was wearing the same thin thank top with only traces of greasepaint left around his ears.

“Mmm well, there she is. A regular sleeping beauty, aren’tcha, doll?” he said, his eyes returning to his own face in the mirror.

Make that twenty-fold. You huffed a breath as you tried to come up with a response, too stunned by something so seemingly ordinary. Sure, you’d seen men shave before, but this was different. It was strange to see him move with such precision, so careful with his hands, running the sharp blade around the rough edges of his scars with ease. His penchant for chaos came with a certain finesse, an accuracy that he made appear so effortless. Perhaps you’d been staring too long.

“Now that you’ve rejoined the, uh, land of the living, we have some work to do.”

You blinked and tore your gaze away from the mirror, trying to look anywhere else before it finally landed on the tile floor. “Um… what kind of work?”

He chuckled and you could feel him looking at you in the mirror again when he answered, “The kind that requires some subtlety, a little nuance that no one else here can measure up to.”

Your eyes lifted from the floor after you thought for a moment about what he said and you asked, “No one else but me?”

“You catch on quick, baby doll,” he replied, clicking his tongue as he swiped away the last bit of shaving cream from his face. Then he set the razor on the edge of the sink and turned around, looking you up and down as he closed the gap between you. “It’s your time to shineonce again.”

That feeling had begun to fill your chest. That strange sense of pride tangled up with your willingness to do more, your desire to please. You didn’t seem to be in control of it, that was something you gave up days ago, but you could see it blurring the line between what was right and what was wrong even further. Soon you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

He stopped in front of you, keeping your gaze locked with his as you felt the ghost of his breath on your skin. The more he looked at you like that, the stronger that feeling was becoming. He knew it too, didn’t he? He knew that you belonged to him by now and you had no wish to put a stop to it, even after everything you’d seen.

“What do you want me to do?”

A small smirk appeared on his face and he answered in a low voice, “That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

The heat that had been rising in your body came to a sudden halt when he then turned to pass you through the doorway, leaving you taking slow breaths to regain what little composure you could manage.

“This one’s simple,” he called over his shoulder from his desk. “All you gotta do is blend in. Be a fly on the wall, so to speak.”

Were you ever going to be able to keep your mind out of the gutter whenever he got close? Probably not. But you could try to hide it. After letting out one more breath, you turned to follow him into the office where he’d sat at his desk with the small hand held mirror you’d seen before, dipping his fingers into a jar of white paint before starting to smear it across his face.

“Blend in where?”

He chuckled, scooping more paint out cover his jaw line. Then without looking up from the mirror he answered, “Check the suitcase by the bed.”

A tattered leather suitcase beside the bed quickly caught your eye. You weren’t sure if he’d ever answered any of your questions directly before and it seemed that was unlikely to change soon, so you tentatively followed his instruction. It wasn’t heavy when you picked it up to place it on the bed. Then after clicking the latches open, you shifted your gaze toward the desk. He’d moved on to smudging black around his eyes, still not turning to look at you. Those insidious butterflies in your stomach made themselves known and in an attempt to shoo them away, you hurriedly lifted the lid on the leather case.

Not sure what you were expecting to see in the first place, you blinked for a moment at the articles of clothing folded neatly inside before reaching in to pick them up. On top was a black pencil skirt, just the right length for the hem to lay above your knees, and beneath it was a deep purple cardigan with opalescent buttons down the front. The purple knit fabric matched that of his coat almost exactly. Heat returned to your cheeks then your eye caught sight of a pair of black heels in the bottom of the case.

“Can’t have you going out in that, hm?”

Your heart leapt into its familiar place in your throat as you looked down at his shirt you were still wearing, goosebumps crawling up your back before you turned around and nearly ran into him. He’d finished with the bright smear of red on his mouth and was now standing over you, the look in his eyes drawing even more warmth to the surface of your skin.

His fingers slid down your wrist before he took your hand in his, turning your palm upwards as his eyes remained locked with yours, your breath now a shallow huff. After reaching into his pocket, you felt him place something in your hand.

Holding back the excitement climbing up behind your tongue, you forced your eyes down. It was some kind of ID card. In bold letters along the bottom, it read “PRESS” and in the corner, you saw an image of yourself. Your eyes widened when you recognized it as the photo from your driver’s license.

Your eyes darting back up to his face, you asked, “What’s this?”

He raised an eyebrow and replied, “What does it look like?”

“How did you get my license photo?”

A chuckle vibrated in his throat and he turned away from you to go back to his desk where he took something from one of the drawers.

“Always so many questions, doll. But never the right ones.”

_______________

It was hard to keep yourself from fidgeting with the hem of the skirt. It was actually very well made and fit you like a glove, but your nerves were getting the best of you once again. You sat in the backseat of an SUV with tinted windows where Joker had just slid in next to you moments ago.

The brightness of the morning sun was only partially lessened by the darkened glass, it’s beams still nearly blinding where it peeked out from between buildings. Lifting your hand to shield your eyes, the other clutching the ID card, you squinted out the window to try to discern where you here headed. He’d left you to get cleaned up and dressed then took you straight to this car outside where a driver was waiting, not a word exchanged between anyone. He said this would be simple, but you couldn’t keep your stomach from tying into a tense knot while you worried over what you were expected to do.

“Ok, doll. Like I said, this one’s simple.”

His timing couldn’t have been better. You turned away from the window to see him reach into his coat pocket, retrieving something small that he held between his fingertips.

“With this, you can be my eyes and ears,” he said, holding it out.

It was a little black earpiece, small enough to fit comfortably in your ear. When you lifted your eyes, about to ask what it was for, you stopped before the words could exit your lips. He’d shifted closer to you and reached out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. The leather of his glove brushed against your cheek, rendering it scorching as he placed the small device in your ear.

“You are now an esteemed member of the press and today you’ve scored the opportunity to report on the biggest story sweeping the city…” he grinned, taking the ID from your hand and clipping it to your sweater. “The Batman is turning himself in.”

Next thing you knew, the car pulled up to the curb then the man sitting in the front seat reached behind him and pushed your door open. The cool air rushed over your face and you whipped back around, mouth open but no questions left to ask.

“Your time to shine, baby girl.”

Your feet carried you toward the tall building in front of you, its ground floor lined with windows while your chest shuddered against the quick breaths you forced in and out of it. You hadn’t been given much instruction, but you knew standing around on the sidewalk looking confused wasn’t what you should be doing. Scanning the entrance in search of where you should be going, you noticed a small crowd entering the door on the far end of the building and turned toward it.

“Bingo. You’re gettin’ good at this, doll.”

His voice suddenly rumbling in your ear sent a rush down your back and you almost stopped in your tracks, but you pressed forward as warmth filled your face, trying to keep your expression calm and unassuming. You had to resist looking behind you to look for the car you knew he must be watching you from.

After taking a quick glance around you to make sure you were still alone, you swallowed and asked quietly, “Can you hear me?”

He answered with a low chuckle and said, “Mm loud and clear, sweetheart.”

Great, how were you supposed to stay composed when it felt like he was following right behind you? But the door was getting closer, and you didn’t have much time to ask questions. Now you could see inside where news cameras were all pointed in the same direction.

“Are you gonna tell me what to do?”

“Eyes and ears, doll. Your big story awaits.”

He probably heard the frustrated sigh you couldn’t hold back as you pulled the glass door open to follow the crowd, his giggle tickling in your ear.

The large conference room was packed with people sitting in rows in front of a small stage where a podium was set up, more standing along the walls and backed all the way up to the door. You quietly squeezed behind the group just inside the entrance and made your way toward the last spot against the wall, eyeing the handful of police officers to your right. As if your nerves weren’t weighing heavy enough on you, now there were cops here?

You looked down at the press badge clipped to your sweater and tried to relax. Just blend in, they weren’t there for you. Staring at the podium rigged with a handful of microphones across the room, his words echoed in your head, the Batman is tuning himself in.

Then the crowd gradually fell silent when flashes and the clicking of cameras followed a man with a head of sandy blonde hair as he stepped up to the podium. You recognized his face from his campaign ads right away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I’ve called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to ensure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done.” Harvey Dent continued to speak over contentions from the crowd and said, “Secondly, because the Batman has offered to turn himself in. But first, let’s consider the situation. Should we give in to this terrorist’s demands?”

You couldn’t understand the rest over Joker’s burst of laughter in your ear. You quickly covered it with your hand to smother the sound before he held his giggles back and said, “Me? A Terrorist? Oh Harvey, you’re gonna make me blush.”

The crowd continued the argue against him until Harvey made a promise. “The Batman will have to answer to the laws he’s broken but to us, not to this mad man.”

A mad man. You supposed that wasn’t untrue. You’d seen enough to know that. But it still somehow didn’t feel true to you. Like it was what people said because they felt threatened by him. They were frightened and faced with a particular unease, unable to explain what it was. It gripped them and wouldn’t let them look away. You felt it too. But it didn’t scare you away, it only drew you closer, didn’t it?

Before you fell further into your thoughts, agitated demands for the Batman to turn himself in echoed through the room as Dent’s speech failed to bring any sense of righteousness to the crowd of cops and reporters.

“So be it. Take the Batman into custody.”

Everyone fell silent, waiting for the vigilante to step forward. Was that really about to happen? But Harvey waited only a moment before he stated to the crowd, “I am the Batman.”

Disbelief settled over the room, everyone watching as a few officers approached him to put him in handcuffs and swiftly lead him off of the stage. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a deep chuckle resounded in your ear.

“Ahhh, well there you have it. Now Harvey wants to play.”

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

Taglist: @amethystmoonprincess @call-me-harley-quinn @liz-rdwitch @germansarechill @thesadvampire @tsukiakarinobara @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @apocalypticwafflekitten @astheworlddturns @komatheterrible @jokersqueenofchaos @killingjokee @into-crazy @youmaycallmebrian @jslittlebirdie @vipervixxen

#heath ledger joker #the dark knight #tdk joker #ledger!joker #ledger joker fic #joker fanfiction #ledger joker x reader #joker x you #self insert #angst

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spacecadetal · 4 years ago

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fireworks

kakashi hatake/fem!reader

word count: 2774 warnings: descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood, descriptions of killing, alcohol use author notes: i wanted to write something a little different than i usually would i kinda got a little tired of my wips lol

the first time i saw him, i was eight years old with a shy curiosity about the world. long story short, his shoulder collided with my own. he wasn’t watching where he was going and neither was i, the hard jolt gave me such a fright that i yelled at him to watch where he was going. i had too much pride to admit i was at fault, lost in a daydream once again. he shared my reaction and my sentiment. saying i should watch myself too with great annoyance in his tone. i scoffed, he huffed, we went our separate ways.

i had always heard his name but never connected the dots until i was much older but still not much wiser. he was a prodigy, i was painfully just above average. as a bright eyed genin, i was out in the world and only starting to understand the true meaning of the path i chose at the naive age of six. his squad was babysitting my own on a mission. his mentor stands next to mine and introduces us and my face sours immediately. unlike him i don’t have a mask to hide it. he avoids me for the whole mission but his teammates are nice.

his red eye was making waves around the world, he was a myth and enemies across the land waited in anticipation for the day to come where they could finally see it in the flesh. great gain had come with great loss, i’m sure he wishes the second hand eye was back with its original owner. i remember the first time i saw him lift up his headband and expose it to the world. the blood red eye and it’s black swirls, chills shoot down my spine like pins and needles. engaging with an enemy was pure violence, animalistic and messy yet he made it seem so graceful.

the pines and the dark forest disappear before my eyes; now he stands on a wooden stage with his foe, dancing under a spotlight. every dodge and weave is smooth and flawless. his strikes felt as natural and as quick as a snake striking at its prey. i watch his performance with a disregard for my own safety and when the last of our enemies hit the dirt, i wait for him to bow. instead he shakes the blood off his kunai and the famous eye is tucked away under his headband. i think i fell in love with him that afternoon.

the girl who died, her name was rin and that one time her team babysat mine, she braided my hair by a campfire and said i had a pretty name. she didn't deserve to die. they whisper about him when he walks by, terrible nasty things. but i smile at him, wave to him when i see him and hope it makes him feel less alone in the world. he sees it and he averts his gaze without reply or acknowledgement. rejection makes my chest tighten, if only slightly. naturally i assume he doesn’t like me, maybe he doesn’t like anyone.

i'm in a village with my squad for a mission, it’s small but the green tea in the wooden cup and the smell of rabbit stew on the stovetop makes me feel at home. the excited teenage boy asks me about the things i've seen. the only thing he knows is chopping wood and shearing sheep. he asks me about a rumour he’s heard by a traveller about the boy that conjures lightning in his hand, he asks me if i've seen it before in the flesh. i smile and nod and confirm that i have. he asks me to describe it. i don't know how to at first.

first, you hear the static snapping and popping and it captures your attention instantly. then the pale blue light grows bigger and bigger in his hand, it takes on a life of its own and i won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make my heart beat out of my chest but he tames it like a wild beast, he has complete control. if you stand off to the side, you can watch the show. lightning surrounds him but he is never burnt. he’s like a god when he strikes, i've never seen something so terrifying but beautiful. he's beautiful. but i don’t tell the teenage boy that and i dont tell him that sometimes the loud crackle of his chidori haunts me when im alone.

when i'm a chunnin, i feel much older than i am. it's not due to the title of my rank but because i keep plunging my kunai into grown men’s hearts and have to pretend it doesn’t faze me to see blood squirting from punctured arteries. i don't see him around the village much anymore. he lives in the darkness, in the shadows but sometimes he comes out into the light. he's grown so much older and taller and i think he looks handsome in his gear. toned arms and biceps and that tattoo on his left upper arm, the one that tells the world where his loyalties lie. walking past him, i prepare to feel the chill of his icy demeanor but i say his name, wave and smile. the only one of his eyes that sees the world widens and the veins of his arms bulge at my greeting, i can’t see his hands because they’re stuffed in his pockets. he always looks away but this time, for the smallest of seconds, he nods in my direction and then he is gone.

when the nine tailed beast attacks the village, i am kept away from the battle in a forest with the rest of the ninja around my age. he’s there, standing by his friend who talks and talks. i like his friend, he always greets me with enthusiasm. i try to ignore the sounds of my village being destroyed and the screams of the unfortunate dying people as i am powerless to do anything. my eyes move on their own in his direction only to find he has the same idea. for a moment, air leaves my lungs and i nod politely before i look away. his eyes meet mine one, two, three times. that night my home was buried under a mountain of rock and rubble and he lost the last person that knew the true extent of the damage this world had inflicted on him.

the elderly lady at the stall with the hair clips told me i've grown into a beautiful young lady and i blush at her comment and insist it isn’t so. she tells me i must have a lot of boys' attention and i buy the deep blue hair clip with the faux sapphire gem. it stands out in my dark hair. it's been a long time since my house was crushed and a long time since he’s sat in the dango store with his friends but here’s there when i walk by. the compliment has me on cloud nine and i'm glad he’s not alone anymore. i smile at the group, say ‘ hey guys ’ and wave. for a millisecond my eye catches his as i'm walking by and my mind plays tricks on me. i think i see his cheeks tinge red.

kurenai came up to me one summer's morning and asked if i was attending the festival. i told her i was but likely alone. maybe i wasn’t such a pretty girl, no fish ever nibbled on the hook of the fishing pole i cast into the waters. her boyfriend looked bored as we spoke and her crimson eyes smile when she brings up the boy with the silver hair’s name, pretending she doesn’t notice my breath hitch for the slightest of moments. ‘ you should ask him, he’s not going with anyone either ’ she tells me and then she drags her boyfriend away. i sit alone on the cliffs for an hour thinking it through, my knees up to my chin as i wonder why she would suggest such a thing. iwashi is pissed that i'm twenty minutes late to meet up with them.

his group joins up with mine hours later and i greet him as i always do. he stands off to the side and plays with his hands and every time i catch his eye he looks as if he wants to say something to me. they say love feels like butterflies but when my eyes meets his, those butterflies turn into angry bees. i want to say something to him too, ask him where his friend got the idea that i should ask him to go with me but the bees within me sting and their venom prevents me from opening my mouth. i avert my gaze and pretend to listen to genma when he talks about his favourite order of ramen.

we all part ways but we’re together again within the hour and i'm waiting nervously at the spot kurenai told me to come back to. my yukata is the colour of lapis and white periwinkles decorate the sleeves and i wonder if i look plain compared to the girls around me dressed in passionate pinks, gentle purples, and bold reds. he doesn’t see me at first but i see him. his yukata is dark grey with light thin stripes and it compliments his bright silver hair wonderfully. it’s the first time i've seen his hair down and his long strands are wild and stick out all over the place, i think i fall in love with him all over again. hes alone and i don’t dare to approach but he finally sees me. he waves, i nod. he's so handsome that i can’t stand to look at him so i don’t.

it’s dark and explosions of many colours light up the sky. i'm so distracted by the loud boom echoing off the hills and the blue, red, white and green lights on a black landscape that i don’t notice he's standing right beside me watching it too. knuckles lightly brush against my own, my chest tightens at the sensation. it’s distracting enough that i tear my eyes away from the sky show. they’re as wide as a possum when i meet his gaze. he doesn’t say anything, he just stares for a moment before he looks back at the fireworks. it was an accident and i forgive and forget but then his fingers awkwardly hook around my own, clinging for dear life. i cannot look, i cannot think nor speak. i hold my breath and blink rapidly while i cling onto his fingers just as tightly. when the fireworks are finished, we consider each other in silence for a minute. his hand leaves mine and we part ways without a word.

every time i see him, i see fireworks and feel the ghost of his fingers wrap around my own. he acknowledges me and we’re rarely left alone around each other; when we are we do not speak of it. we lean against a railing side by side and watch our friends fool around. courageously i say to him that the weather is nice today and he nods in agreement before his friend calls him over. when he leaves my side, his knuckles brush past mine once more. i jump in surprise and tell myself it was another forgivable accident but then he glances back at me as he walks away and i can’t be too sure.

i am frozen still in a shrub waiting for the enemy to pass by. the sound of my heartbeat in my ears is so loud but suddenly it is replaced with the familiar crackle of electricity that haunted my dreams for the longest of times. when i turn around i see a man gasping for life, holding on tightly to the kunai i imagined would have been plunged into the nape of my neck if it wasn’t for the ball of lightning sizzling away in his chest. the man’s body drops to the ground and i finally see him standing there in the man’s place, his lower arm is soaked with blood from the fatal strike. he takes my hand and helps me onto my feet. that famous red eye is hiding behind a porcelain hound mask and he asks me if i'm okay. i assure him i am and thank him, he nods his head in reply and walks away. i don’t mind that he’s left my hand stained with our enemy’s blood.

when i am given the rank of jonin i am months away from being twenty. i’m not allowed to drink just yet but my older friends buy bottles of sake to share in the park and i accept the invitation without giving it much thought. it’s sweet on my tongue and goes down smoothly, the aftertaste reminds me of potatoes for some strange reason i can’t put my finger on. i drink and i drink until half a bottle is gone and my cheeks are red and i laugh too loudly at asuma’s lame jokes. the stars are beautiful tonight but they just look like streaks of light in my blurry vision. i lay in the grass, my head feels light and my stomach slightly churns. out of nowhere he is in my line of sight, standing over me with a touch of concern on the features that aren’t hidden away. he asks me if i'm okay and i say i'm just fine and i think to myself that i'm glad to see him.

when he takes me home, he lectures his friends that i'm too young to get drunk and they reply that i'll be old enough in a couple of months and it doesn’t make that much of a difference. he doesn’t mind my drunken babbling and how my head leans on his shoulder as we walk slowly through the dimly lit streets. his grip around my waist is tight and i try not to say something foolish like the way he fights is a form of art or that i want him to hold my hand again. he drops me off at the door and leaves once i am inside safely. i pass out that night thinking of the ways i want to be his.

i am twenty one when he leaves the anbu and i see him on the streets alone. his nose is in a book and he doesn’t notice as i walk by. i fight the urge to turn around and ask him how he’s going, i’ll be late to meet up with my old squad to train if i do. later when i walk home, i stare off into the distance and think about making dinner and sharpening my collection of kunai when i collide with something hard. i jump out of fright at the impact, ready to snap when two hands land on my shoulders to secure me in place. we’re not kids anymore and he smiles at me and apologises even when i'm at fault. i ask him how he’s been and he says he’s been just fine. he walks me home and we talk about missions and his new role as a squad leader. on my doorstep he says he’ll see me around and then he is gone and i am left greedily wanting more of his time.

one day when we are standing alone he tells me he is in love with me. it is is out of the blue and i brush it off with laugher, telling him he couldn’t possibly be; he takes my hand in his and insists it’s true. he tells me that he has been since the moment i collided with him in the street when he was ten years old. that when the world was unkind to him, i provided enough kindness to keep him going, all in a smile and a greeting. it is everything i have wanted to hear and more. the angry swarm of bees are back and i am stung over and over again. he can tell that i'm paralysed so his lips fall gently onto mine and it allows me to say the things i cannot utter out loud. my eyes are closed and i can see the very same fireworks from the night our fingers touched. when he breaks away from me he says we should get out of here and wordlessly i agree. we walk in the streets of the village and i am unsure of the destination he has in mind. his fingers are wrapped around mine.

#kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x oc #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi x reader #my fic #my writing #f

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bethanysnow · 3 years ago

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all im saying is there should be a CW type show called “Oh my God’s” where Chris Evans plays Zeus, and walks around in Armani, and bronze and gold jewelry, a clean and tailored suit thats like a ash blue. Gold watch, custom modified sports car. Lives in a pent house apartment in LA. Just sorta floats on air and speaks with the Boston accent, slaps the receptionists ass on the way out, tells you to ‘use your words’ and ‘good girl’ and with that fucking smirk of his, also full beard, the little grey at the temples just AHHHHH. So good!

Also like Kiera Knightly as Hera? Leather jacket, a peacock tattoo up her arm and fanning out on her back. A lighting bolt tattoo behind her ear, Zeus has a peacock feather tattoo down his spine. She drives a motorcycle and has the big black sunglasses, short hair with shaved sides. Has the most large “scary” dog as her lap dog. Runs her own giant company is at the forefront of like fertility research and general health of the uterus and her company runs hospitals all over the world with this specialty. Loves purple and grey and white gold, holds gala’s every year for fundraising. Definition of a boss ass bitch.

Hades I think should be played by Cynthia Ervio? Look her up, she is black and queer and is an oscar away from being an EGOT winner. She was in so many things, she is a beautiful singer and performer. Her energy is so soft and instantly there in the same time. You know when she is in the room. So this is why I picked her for Hades in this sorta fancast? Like honestly I don’t see Hades wearing all black or being super goth, I see someone who is honorable in death. Works as a grief therapist, post emo kid kinda deal. Has shock white hair though? Loves to do fancy makeup, and with darker skin to do bright yellows and oranges and reds for eye shadow and things. Is hopelessly in love with Persephone, like sickeningly so.

Aphrodite would be played by like 30 people of the feminine persuasion? Because beauty is everyone and so there is no ONE person who can be Aphrodite. there has to be multiple. The person for the main cast I think should be Lizzo. Cuz- duh? But in the story like-....Aphrodite is a model and women's rights activist and walks in fashion shows. Full natural hair, little makeup, lounges around her house in various states of nothing. I think in the story she would be slightly more fem dom than just a pretty woman that men objectify? Though every god in this story is some form of queer thats just how it works lol.

Yes I have lists and lists and ideas for more things, I just had to put this out into the universe.

#story idea #writing

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mrsalwayswritex · 5 years ago

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Call Me Fighter

A/N: Good news everyone! I remember where I got these pictures! /benhardyig on instagram posted these a few days ago and I got the inspo for this! Also the song I used for the title is one of my husbands favorites so you should give it a listen! Side note, Im not really sure how Im feeling about most of this so hang in there and let me know how it was!

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Platonic Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4900

Warnings: Fighting (fairly detailed? Im not sure?), swearing, lying, i dont know what else?

Song: Call me fighter by Matt Beilis

She wasn't sure if he knew that she knew, but she did. Y/n was always smarter than he gave her credit for. Did he really think that she would believe him?

“Went ass over tit on my bike last week”

“Dropped my damn phone on my face”

“Bar fight, truly heroic”

The excuses he was giving her were getting more and more ridiculous, she wished that he would tell her already so she could stop hiding the fact that she knew. Ben and Y/n had been friends for years, and she knew him better than he knew himself. Y/n could remember back in grade school when Ben would get into fights, countless fights for no reason, so when he started sporting a new bruise every week, she had a feeling about what was happening.

Y/n wasn't proud of how she found out, but he had given her no choice, the more and more he lied to her, the more she had to find out the truth. It was just a few weeks ago that Y/n could hear shouting coming from next door, where Ben lived, and she listened closely but could only hear his voice. Years prior, the two of them had both been house hunting, Y/n found a duplex for sale and she knew instantly it was going to be perfect, so together, they bought it and each took a side.

“I'll be there, I SAID I'LL FUCKIN’ BE THERE!” Y/n heard his voice booming through the walls, followed by the sound of Ben stomping around his house before his front door slammed closed. Ben hardly ever even raised his voice to her, so hearing his shout like that had caused her to worry immediately. She grabbed her jacket and poked her head out the door, seeing Ben’s retreating form headed down the street. Y/n pulled her hood over her mess of hair and walked slowly, following him carefully.

Following Ben felt like a betrayal to their friendship, but she had seen how he came home last week, she needed to know what was happening to him. When Y/n saw him walk into an alley in the warehouse district, saying she was confused would have been an understatement, but she followed nonetheless.

Y/n was not at all prepared to see a line of people standing at a metal door, but watch Ben walk right past them and go into a second door. The line was moving quickly so she just stood in the back of the line until she made her way to a man with arms bigger than her head. “Twenty buck admission, sweetheart.” The large man’s voice boomed, and she frantically patted her pockets, grinning widely as she found a twenty in her jeans pocket, handing it to the man and being ushered inside.

The lights in the large warehouse were sparse and dim, casting shadows on the walls. Y/n stepped carefully over the trash littered floor, careful to avoid the men standing around in small groups and talking in hushed voices with their eyes darting around nervously. She kept her hood pulled over her head as she quickly scanned the room, unable to see Ben at all. I watched him walk in here, I know he is here somewhere, she thought to herself. As she got closer to the center of the large room, she saw a rather large cage with only one door and a mat inside. Y/n couldn't help the nauseous feeling in her stomach as she looked around the inside of the cage, seeing what had to be blood, splattered everywhere.

Y/n’s attention was pulled from the scene by a man’s voice over a speaker, “Make your final bets, ladies and gents, our fighters are almost ready.” Heart pounding at the words, Y/n looked around frantically, hoping to catch Ben’s face in the crowd, the nausea getting worse as her thoughts raced. Letting herself get moved back, away from the cage, she nervously chewed at her thumbnail, something she hadn't done in years. Her heart stopped and her jaw hung open wide when she saw Ben walking from the crowd, shirtless but with taped up hands, and stepping into the cage. Her hands flew to cover her mouth quickly and though she was sure she made a noise, it was drowned out by the cheering of the crowd.

His face looked hard and tough from here, but Y/n knew Ben better than anyone else, she could see the worry and the sadness behind his eyes. She had spent most of her time there in tears, her heart breaking more and more with every hit that landed on Ben. She wasn’t even able to stay for the whole fight, running out of the building and not stopping until she was on her shared porch. That night when she heard Ben get home and tap on the shared wall, like they had done since they moved in, she ignored it. She couldn’t face him, knowing he would just feed her another excuse.

Y/n had followed Ben three more nights, out of morbid curiosity she guessed, and had left before the fight was over every time. Everytime she would wait for the tap on the wall when he got home and would stay silent. Y/n realized what the taps meant now, I'm home and safe. Ben may not have told her what he was doing, but at least with the taps, she knew when he was home. Weeks went by with Ben leaving the house at odd hours and coming back late, tapping the wall and then they would meet in the morning for coffee like always with some kind of fabricated story. She hadn't gone to another fight in weeks.

Today, though, Y/n paced around her living room for hours. Ben had left hours ago and he still wasn't home, which made her stomach turn. She waited only another ten minutes and then she was grabbing her jacket from the hook and slamming the door behind her as she ran quickly to the warehouse. Once she was inside, she saw a bigger crowd than she had ever seen before and her anxiety spiked. This was something different. When the announcer spoke over the loudspeaker, she watched as Ben walked into the cage, but this time he was already bloody and cut up, he had already fought tonight and he was fighting again? Y/n watched the way Ben leaned heavily on the side of the cage, arm clutched to his side and chest heaving harshly.

Not only was the guy who entered moments later at least twice the size of Ben, but he was also wider and the look on his face was not at all friendly. She could see Ben’s hesitation as he looked at the ref and the man shrugged his shoulders. Y/n knew that this wasn't a normal fight, and she knew nothing about fighting. The few times she had gone, she tried to stay hidden in the back where he wouldn't spot her, but the longer this fight went on, the closer and closer she crept to the cage. Watching Ben move really was incredible in a normal situation, but watching him bounce easily from foot to foot and easily dodge his opponents fists was something else. Unfortunately, Ben was not so bouncy this time.

Y/n flinched audibly when one of the big guys fists collided with Ben’s cheek, making him stumble back, another fist following seconds later and Y/n had gotten close enough to see his eyes crossing from the hit. His jaw went slack just in time for one last hit and his eyes rolled back and he dropped to the mat.

“BEN!”

That was a hell of a hit, Ben thought to himself as he fell heavily to the mat of the cage. He could have sworn that he heard Y/n’s voice, but of course it wasn't really her, she had no idea what Ben was doing right now, a fact that he took solace in as he let his eyes fall closed and the darkness swallowed him whole.

Ben didn't know how long he was out for, but his ears woke up before his eyes and he could hear the sounds of people cheering distantly, but closer than that he heard someone softly crying and the sound of ripping paper. Even behind closed eyes, the light overhead was excruciating, and kept his eyes closed tightly. He could feel the pressure of someone wiping at the cuts on his face. Ben listened to the sniffles of his faceless caregiver, he could hear the soft choked sobs falling from their mouth.

“Oh Ben,” Ben heard his makeshift nurse, who was certainly female, coo sadly.

He let the words spin in his head, the voice repeating over and over. Oh Ben was right. Ben knew he had gotten in over his head when his opponent entered the cage, noticing quickly that it was not the guy who he was supposed to fight. He had gotten greedy, he knew he did. Ben had taken to betting on himself through a regular attendee of the fights, and management had caught wind and needed to put a stop to it.

“Gods, you're such an idiot.” His nurse spoke again and Ben’s heart dropped, he knew that voice.

“Y/n?” Ben opened his eyes quickly and regretted it immediately, throwing his head off the side of the bench he was laying on and emptying his stomach. Y/n squeaked and jumped backwards out of the splash zone, though her face lit up brightly.

“Ben!” She rushed to the other side of the bench, leaning down and carefully rubbing a hand over his sweaty back as he groaned loudly. “Jesus, Ben, I thought I had lost you.” Y/n smiled, though when Ben rolled back onto his back, he could see the tears still streaming down her face.

“What are you doing here?” He tried to use his arm to push himself off the bench but the pain in his shoulder stopped him with a hiss, Y/n putting a gentle hand on his chest to keep him still.

“Don't move, your shoulder is fucked up and I think you broke a few ribs.” Y/n explained with a sniffle, keeping her hand on his chest, and she felt him relax under her touch.

“Y/n.” Ben experimentally raised his other arm and when no pain blossomed, he laid his hand on top of hers. “What are you doing here? Did they call you?” He questioned again, squeezing her hand, causing her to look at his eyes.

His face was still bloody, left eye swelling up with a nasty cut below it. His right side was no better, a bruise was forming on his jaw and his nose was still slowly bleeding from a small cut there too. Y/n’s heart broke looking at him, she wasn't able to stop the sob that ripped from her throat. “You didn't tap.”

Ben’s eyes widened and taking a ragged breath, which broke her heart more, he squeezed her hand once more. “You knew?” His voice was barely above a whisper and had Y/n not been sitting so close to him, she may not have heard it. Y/n nodded her head softly, biting her lip as tears tumbled down her face. “How?”

Y/n choked out a laugh despite the sadness she felt, “Did you really think you were giving me good excuses?” She shook her head softly before standing and taking the bowl of water she had brought over, now red, and dumped it out. Y/n shook her head again before putting the bow down a little harder than she should have, the startling sound making Ben jump and hiss at the pain. “How could you keep something like this from me?” She spoke forcefully but didn't make eye contact. Ben laid his head back down onto the bench and sighed.

“I didn't want you to know, Y/n.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wincing from the pain. “I didn't want you to worry.”

Y/n scoffed and crossed her arms, “OH of course, because this is so much better.” Pushing herself off the counter, she strode towards him quickly. “Do you not understand how lucky you were that I knew where you sneak off to?” Her voice raised and Ben squeezed his eyes closed tighter. “Ben you could have died! Do you not realize that? Did you know what they do to fighters who get knocked out like that?” She questioned, grabbing his face light enough to not hurt but enough to make him open his eyes. “They drug you out of the cage and pulled you back here by your fucking arms Ben. They tossed you into this room and closed the door behind them.” Y/n swiped her hand over her eyes quickly, angry at the tears that came.

Ben looked into the eyes of his best friend, hating that he had caused her pain. Hating that he had lied to her for months and here she was, taking care of him like she always did. She had every right to be upset with him, because he knew that he didn't have a good enough excuse for his choices. “I can't give you a good reason, Y/n.” He stared into her eyes, lifting his good hand to her face and wiped away a tear as it ran over her cheek. When he looked at his hand against her face, he could finally see some of the damage done tonight.

Ben stared at his swollen and cut knuckles, carefully wiped clean of blood thanks to her. Clenching his fist a few times, the cuts split open again and small streaks of blood sliding down the back of his hand. “Stop that.” Y/n spoke softly, grabbing his hand and the wet cloth, wiping away the blood once more. Ben watched her silently, allowing her to move his arm anyway she needed.

“I'm sorry I lied.”

“Me too.”

They both stayed silent as Y/n walked around the room, gathering hers and Ben’s things while Ben just tried to sit up on the bench. Once Y/n had Ben’s backpack over her shoulder, she walked over to him and offered him a hand, which he took gratefully. Anchoring herself with her legs, she let Ben pull himself up before wrapping an arm over her shoulder. Usually Ben would make a joke about how much shorter she was than him, but this time he stayed silent, using all of his energy to not scream out in pain. Y/n watched his jaw clench tight as he tried to take a step forward, nearly pulling her to the ground with him.

“Walking home isn't an option, Ben.” She sighed, her voice cracking slightly. “You're going to have to wait here while I go and get the car.” Ben, who didn't trust himself not to cry out, kept his mouth closed and nodded carefully. Y/n tried to ease Ben back to the bench as carefully as possible, but Ben’s knee buckled and they both went down hard. She yelped loudly and Ben felt the laughter bubble up in his throat and before he could stop it, it spilled out. “Are you laughing at me right now?” Y/n chuckled, letting herself relax onto the floor, arm still wrapped around Ben. Ben just laughed louder and nodded his head, making Y/n giggle back and soon the two best friends were both clutching their stomachs in hysterics.

Y/n, breathless from laughter, glanced towards Ben and her laughter turned to choked sobs. Ben was quick to shush her, pulling her close to him and she laid gently on his chest. Wincing through the pain, he raised his hand to her hair and stroked it softly. “Let’s go home, Y/n.” Ben pressed his lips to her forehead and she sniffled and nodded, pulling herself into a sitting position. Standing and offering Ben both of her hands, she carefully got him back onto the bench and sighed heavily.

“I'll be right back, don't move.” She pointed at him seriously, but Ben could see the forced smile on her face and his heart hurt for her. He nodded and faked his own smile, shooting her a thumbs up and laying his head back against the wall behind him. Y/n waved once more before she closed the door behind her and Ben was alone.

He hated that she had to see him like this, he had thought he was covering his tracks well enough, though Y/n had always been smarter than him. He thanked whatever god was listening at that moment, that she wasn't here anymore. He knew what it meant to be caught betting on yourself. That was something that Y/n never needed to see. Ben pulled himself up carefully, holding his arm close to his side, hissing at the sudden all over pain. Slowly he made his way across the room, but was stopped short when the door opened with a loud bang as it clattered against the wall. The fight manager and his two overly large goons pushed their ways through the door, staring Ben down like he was their prey.

“Mike.” Ben nodded his head shortly, waving weakly at the muscle. “To what do I owe this pleasure.” His sarcasm was not well met, as goon number one cracked his knuckles menacingly and goon number two swung his fist into Ben’s jaw harshly. Black dots filled Ben’s vision, but he grabbed a hold of the counter to stay standing.

“Don't be cute, Ben.” Mike replied coolly, stepping between the goons and standing right in front of him. “Is your girlfriend gone? I'm sure this isn't the kind of fight she wants to see.” The short, fat man chuckled, he turned and took a few steps to the side and when Ben’s gaze followed, his jaw was met once more with a goon's fist. Ben swore loudly, gritting his teeth and trying to will himself to stay standing. Spitting on the floor beside him, Ben glanced at the ground's fresh red spatters. “You cheated me Ben. I don't like cheaters.”

Anticipating another hit, Ben dodged the next hit which only seemed to spur the goons on. Goon Number One locked his arms behind his back, pulling a string of curses from Ben, as Goon Number Two hit him in the ribs. Ben's head was swimming and he wasn't sure how much more his body could take. Two didn't stop at just one hit, not even two, but after three sharp jabs to his ribs, Goon Number One finally let his arms go and Ben fell to the floor in a heap. He tried to push himself off the ground but one of the men kicked him hard in the chest and he fell back down.

“You’re burnt, Ben.” Mike clicked his tongue and motioned for the goons to take him outside. Struggling and failing, Ben was hoisted into the air by the two men, Mike stopping them and grabbing a fist full of Ben’s hair and bringing his face close to Ben’s ear, “You're done.” He whispered menacingly. “Make sure to leave him out front where the girl can find him.” Mike snapped his fingers and then Ben was dragged out into the dark parking lot.

Leave him where the girl can find him, the words swam in Ben’s foggy head. Y/n was going to find him like this, and the thought alone was enough to force a sob from his throat. The goons pulled Ben’s limp body until they were under the large flood light on the building and threw him to the ground, Ben wasn't quick enough with his hands and his face was scrapped along the pavement and he held back a cry. The men both stalked towards him but he tried to crawl away, both men stepping towards him easily. “I hope she isn't squeamish.” Goon Number One growled with a sick smile on his face, pulling his fist into the air and slamming it into Ben’s face and knocking his head into the ground. Goon Number Two kicked at him again and again.

Ben’s vision was blurring. It hurt to breathe. He was sure he would die. Ben couldn't help the sobs and tears that spilled out of him as he saw headlights turning into the parking lot. His shouts sounded like static in his own ears and he could no longer make out the sounds of the goons above him. He could feel his eyes closing as he suddenly heard Y/n’s voice, clear as day, shouting his name.

Y/n had run back to her house as quickly as she could and when she stumbled into the front door, she finally slowed down, stepping inside and leaning on the closed door behind her. She walked through the house and turned on a few lights, and readied the tea kettle for their return. Sighing loudly, she grabbed her keys and jogged back outside and climbed into her car. The trip back was less than ten minutes long and when she pulled into the warehouse parking lot, she was shocked that it had emptied out so quickly. Figuring she would make it easier on Ben if she parked as close to the door as she could, she turned towards the entrance and that's when she saw it.

Directly under the flood lights bright circle, Y/n was able to make out two giant men and a smaller figure on the ground. Ben! Slamming her hand on the horn, she pushed her foot to the floor, needing to get to Ben right now. She watched the men kicking him, ruthlessly, and she covered her mouth with one hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. When she finally reached them, she slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt in front of them, one of them making eye contact with her as she screamed for them to stop. Keeping her gaze, the man threw a hand out at the second man and they both stopped kicking. Y/n shrieked loudly when the second man looked at her and spit at Ben, she ran forward and dropped to the ground beside her beaten best friend.

“Ben! Ben, please!” The tears poured down her face like a waterfall and her voice cracked as she begged him to wake up. “Please open your eyes, Ben, please!” Y/n scrambled around for her phone as she quickly dialed 911. Sitting herself above Ben’s head, she pulled him carefully into her lap, sobbing loudly as she touched his red stained face. Twenty minutes, Y/n thought sadly, twenty minutes she had been gone and now she may have been too late. She rocked back and forth hysterically with Ben’s head in her lap, her long fingers running through his blood-matted hair, and soon she could hear the approaching sirens. “I'm so sorry Ben, I should have never left you here. I'm so, so sorry Ben.” She cried so loudly, her throat was raw by the time the paramedics were pulling Ben’s motionless form from her grasp and ushered her into the back while she held onto his hand the whole way to the hospital.

It was two days later, when Ben finally opened his eyes and the very first thing he saw made him smile despite his surroundings. Y/n was curled into a ball, asleep in a small recliner in the corner of the room. Ben didn't dare look at any of the damage, instead choosing to lay quietly and watch Y/n sleep peacefully. He was able to smile for half a second before the pain shot through his cheek and he hissed loudly, which woke Y/n up.

Tears instantly sprang to her eyes as she launched herself out of the chair, crossing the room in seconds and having to stop herself from literally throwing herself onto Ben. Y/n gently put both hands to his face and just gave him a watery smile. “I'm so glad you're alright, Ben.” She cooed, leaning in and carefully placed a kiss to his forehead. “You are so fucking lucky that you're alright, because I want to murder you!” The smile stayed on her face but her eyes got serious.

Ben opened his mouth to speak but found his throat raw. Y/n was quick to bring a straw to his lips and he swallowed down the water gratefully. He cleared his throat when he was done and he looked at her. “I'm so sorry Y/n.” His bottom lip quivered and his eyes were locked on hers. When he tried to lift his arm to her face, he found resistance with a bright red cast from his palm to elbow. She watched his face crumble when he saw the cast, as it prompted him to search his other limbs.

Ben had ‘gotten lucky’ or so the doctors told Y/n the day before when they had given her the rundown of his injuries. “Broken arm, three broken ribs, a fractured collarbone, four broken knuckles and a pretty serious concussion.” Y/n sighed, brushing Ben’s blond curls off of his forehead. “Jesus Ben you've been asleep since they brought you in, it's been two days.” She didn't make eye contact with him, instead looking at his hair running through her fingers and she didn't even try to stop the tears from falling heavily onto his chest.

Ben stared at her face, heart aching when she wouldn't even look at him. He used his cast-free arm to reach up and touch her face lightly. “Thank you for being there that night, Y/n.” His voice wavered just enough to betray his stoic face, when her eyes flickered to his he could see all the pain and sleeplessness she had experienced the last two days. “I'm so sorry that this is how you found out, I'm sorry for lying to you.” He spoke softly, letting a tear get halfway down his face before swiping it away quickly. “I would have died if you hadn’t come back for me.”

“I'll always come back for you, Ben.” Y/n smiled at him, running her finger down his nose carefully, bringing a real smile to his face. “You're my best friend, and I love you.” She rolled her eyes playfully at him.

“I know, and you're my best friend.” Ben moved his hand from her face and grabbed her hand, “No more secrets.” he nodded his head seriously and she mirrored him.

“And you’ll try and explain to me why you thought this was ever a good idea?” She questioned hopefully, and though Ben sighed heavily, he nodded his head. “Pinky promise?” She held out her pinky finger to him and Ben chuckled and wrapped his pinky around hers.

“Pinky promise.”

Two after Ben woke up, the doctor was clearing him to leave. Y/n was getting the basic pain medicine talk, since she was to be Ben’s caregiver. Ben watched her listening intently to the directions that his doctor was reciting, showing her the bottle of pills and a packet on how to shower with a cast. She nodded her head and occasionally spoke up with a question, flashing Ben a smile when she caught him staring. Ben grinned back at her and the doctor smiled at the two of them. “Well, Mr. Jones, I would like to hope that this experience has made you think twice about your hobbies.” The doctor gave him a pointed look and he held up his one good hand in defense.

“No more fighting, I promise.” He stated and the doctor gave him a thumbs up.

“As for you, Miss Taylor, Benjamin here is lucky to have you in his life. You make a very cute couple.” The older man smiled and nudged Y/n and when she made eye contact with Ben, they both started laughing hysterically.

“He wishes,” She scoffed and Ben looked at her offended, “He’s been my best friend so long, he is practically my brother.” She gave the boy a fond smile and he returned it happily.

“Completely platonic soulmates, doc.” Ben smiled at the man and pushed himself to his feet. “Now, not that I don't think you're a great guy, but I would like to get out of here and never see you again.” Ben chuckled and the doctor laughed deeply.

“That is the right attitude!” The man clapped his hands together, “You are good to go, and I hope I never have the fortune of seeing you again.” He shook Ben’s hand first and then reached for Y/n’s, “You as well, Miss Taylor.”

“You got it, doc.” She shook the man's hand and grabbed the bag of Ben’s belongings and waited for him to follow her and when he looked at her with question in his eyes she rolled her eyes at him. “If you think i'm ever leaving you alone to fetch the car again, you're out of your mind. Come on, your legs ain’t broken.” Ben laughed loudly and nodded his head before walking over and throwing his good arm around her shoulders carefully. “Let’s go home.”

“Let’s go home.” He agreed with a smile on his face.

#ben hardy #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy au #fighter!ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #call me fighter #my writing

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heavymetalover · 6 years ago

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The Hand That Feeds (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

Summary: You’re Michael’s pet at Outpost 3, accustom to obeying all of his rules. But today you’re desperate and Michael hasn’t been pleasing you much lately. You get punished by a jealous Michael after trying to hook up with another gray.

Warnings: SMUT, dirty talk, dom/sub, jealousy, daddy kink, wrist binding, boot licking, piss play, oral sex (female & male receiving), slapping, little bit of rimming (female receiving), fingering (anal & vaginal), anal sex, choking, hair pulling, bit of fluff at the end, sassy reader, mean michael.

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: ok sjksjskjs this one might not be for everyone…

1) read the warnings carefully if youre squeamish and dont like dirty stuff lol im just being upfront. 2) jim is jim mason, i wanted to give you guys a 2 in 1 fling. youre welcome. & 3) this came kinda late cuz i was BUSY w sugar daddy stuff this week lmao ! so i hope there arent too many grammar errors !!

enjoy, sluts <3

~~~~

You lean against the corridor wall, routinely surveying the area for Venable’s impending scrutiny. One of your close confidants, Jim, another gray, leans with you. He stands only a few inches away from you, so close that you breathe each other’s breaths. Since you’ve laid eyes on him you suspected he would be trouble. You liked the freckles that dotted his nose, the way his brown hair swooped over his forehead, and how he looked at you like you were the only person in this hellhole that mattered. You knew you weren’t supposed to be flirting with him, you knew Langdon would be mad, but fuck it. Langdon stayed cooped up in his office for most of the day, you were bored of waiting for him to sweep you off your feet and fuck you until you couldn’t walk. Everything is always on his terms, but you are getting desperate, you need some spice in your life.

You mindlessly twirl a stray hair that fell from your unattractive bun when talking to Jim. You two laugh and smile all the time, beating around the bush because of Langdon’s strict rules. You grab Jim’s hand; his baby blue eyes wander around the corridor before accepting your palm. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” you ask him. His eyes shyly fix to the ground and a smile inches across his face. “I’m serious, I don’t know what I’d do here without you.”

“Me too. If Langdon takes you and leaves me…” he trails off.

“Hey,” you crouch down to find his eyes. His light eyes fix on yours and you feel a tingle wash over your core. “I don’t even want to go with him,” you lie. Even if Langdon is the most hot and cold asshat here, he somehow cast his spell on you. You hate how much of a hold he has on you. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take me.”

“How will you do that? Everybody knows you’re his little pet,” he leans his head against the wall in defeat.

“Because of this,” you whisper, standing on the tips of your toes to reach Jim’s lips.

He closes his lucent eyes and kisses you back. His soft lips collide into yours, they feel like everything you’ve imagined. After a moment, he pulls away from your embrace and his eyes dart around the room. “You’re fucking crazy,” he laughs. “We’re both dead if we get caught.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” you question with a shrug.

He responds by pulling you into another kiss, crashing his lips into yours with passion. You continue kissing him and slowly walking him into one of the empty rooms in the corridor. He staggers backwards into the room, both of you smiling at his fumble.

Each kiss gets stronger and deeper, only parting to rip off your apron and let down your hair. His hands run down your back, pulling you against him and kissing your neck. A small moan escapes your lips and you feel a light giggle on your neck, sending chills throughout your body. Your fingers comb through his thick hair and you pull his head back to kiss his lips once more.

Jim unzips your gray dress and it falls to the floor, exposing your grim bra and panties. The grays didn’t get many lingerie choices, you all had to wear cotton and polyester undergarments. None of it mattered to Jim, though. He is just as ravenous as you, he only wants what’s underneath the ugly clothes. You take off his top and smash your lips into his, reaching for his pants. He’s beginning to unhook your bra when somebody clears their throat behind you.

You both jump, immediately shielding any exposed skin, until you realize who it is. He sucks all the air out of the room and everything goes still. “Y/N,” Langdon says between clenched teeth, his tone much lower than usual.

You cross your arms over your chest, standing in front of Jim so he won’t get any of the heat. “Mr. Langdon,” you respond with the same vitriol. Langdon hated when you got sassy, you know that, but you don’t care. What’s he going to do?

He peers around your shoulder and you extend your arm, hoping he won’t see who you were engaging with. Langdon rolls his eyes at your poor attempt of protecting Jim’s identity and addresses him calmly, “John, perhaps you should leave now.”

“Jim,” he responds with a waver in his voice. Your heart sinks when Jim talks back to him. You can deal with punishment from Langdon, but you didn’t want anything bad to happen to Jim.

“Jim,” Langdon repeats. “Leave now and be thankful if I don’t burn your soul to a fucking crisp.” You’ve never seen Langdon this angry and you have to admit, it’s kind of hot.

Jim stands up and squeezes your hand tightly before leaving. He brushes past Langdon, exiting the room with his clothes in his fist. Langdon stays in the doorway, hands behind his back as always and chin tilted up to assert dominance. You don’t back down; you stay silent waiting for him to say his piece. You’re not going down so easily this time.

“You’re a stubborn pain in my ass, you know that?” he finally breaks the silence. “People in this outpost are on their hands and knees trying to secure a position, offering everything they can just so I could spare their lives. All the girls throw themselves at me, they wish I could secure a position for them like I did with you. Hell, even most of the men. They wish I could fuck them the way I fuck you,” he seethes.

“So why don’t you,” you bite back. You’ll do anything to get him riled up now, this is weeks of built up rage.

He wears a slight smile, quite clearly trying to camouflage his anger. “Put your dress back on and meet me in my office,” he orders, turning on his heel to leave.

“No,” you reply stubbornly. He stops and turns back to look at you. You walk up to him, challenging his supremacy with each audacious step. “What are you gonna do, Langdon? Hm? Spank me?” you ask in a mocking tone. “Punish me? Burn my soul?” you keep going to get him annoyed, but he wears an amused smile now. His eyes drawing to the ceiling to avoid giving you the spotlight, this only makes you want to dig harder. “I find it hard to believe you’re the antichrist,” you whisper inches from his face, “because half of the time you can’t even fuck me right.”

His haunting gaze closes in on you, you got his attention. “Is that right?” he asks, stone-faced. You slowly nod your head, questioning what kind of beast you woke up in him. His eyes look darker, even his expression looks much more sinister.

Langdon grabs your wrist, tightening his grip and you don’t fight it. He pulls you even closer to him, your feet shuffle until they trip over his Margiela boots. He tightens his grip again and you gasp at the sudden pain. You would never tell him to stop. “You like being punished, don’t you?” he quizzes, a glimmer of hilarity in his serious attitude. “That’s why you were whoring it up with that guy, right? Because you want me to punish you?”

You swallow hard, feeling a numbness take over the hand he grips so snugly. “It would add some excitement,” you reply coyly, all your confidence dissolving before your eyes.

“Look at you. A dog with all bark and no bite,” he spits, a small breathy laugh followed after. “Y/N, if you wanted to be treated like a dirty fucking whore, then why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks, making you jump when he curses. Even if he is mad, it’s turning you on. You can feel yourself soaking through your panties. “I’ll treat you like one,” he whispers.

Langdon drags you out of the room by the wrist he’s holding with a death-grip. Your heart drops at how urgent he’s handling the situation. “W-what are you gonna do to me?” you ask apprehensively.

“Oh, you wanted excitement!” he yells loud enough for the whole outpost to hear. He lets go of your wrist, throwing you into his room and locking the door behind him. You aid to your wrist, expecting a wicked bruise to flourish tomorrow.

He grabs your arm, again having a firm grasp, and pulls you into him. He holds your face in his other hand, making sure you keep your pleading eyes on his. “Do you want this?” he asks in a whisper. “Does the dirty slut want to be punished?”

You try nodding your head in his tight grip. “Yes, daddy,” you breathe.

He lets a modest smile slip before returning to his controlling demeanor. “Show me,” he commands and lets go of you. He promptly unhooks your bra and you slowly slide it down your arms. Covering up your nipples until the bra is completely off and exposing them to him, putting on a little show as usual. He still doesn’t look entertained. “I thought you wanted excitement,” he teases.

You bite your tongue from saying anything hurtful. “I do,” you answer. “Do whatever you want with me, daddy.”

He slides his jacket down his shoulders and steps closer to you. Your nipples harden with the gust of wind and he takes advantage. He pinches both of your nipples in between his fingers, squeezing the hard peaks. You moan at his sudden touch and arch your back to invite more. He notices this and twists your nipples, sending a searing pain throughout your breasts. You recoil only for a moment, but once the immediate pain subsides, you welcome more of his punishments.

He twists them again, harder this time and you take in a sharp breath, ruggedly letting it go when he releases your nipples. He gives a rough smack to your perky tits, causing more pain through your chest. You let out a nervous laugh with the second smack. Langdon’s never touched you like this before, he was always so gentle, you never knew he had this in him.

He pulls you back into him, and ravages your lips with his. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and tasting your lips with each smacking kiss. His hands crawl down your back, reaching your hideous panties. He pulls the cotton, wedging the garment between your ass and you gasp. Just like when he pinched your nipples, for a moment it hurt, then it felt unbelievably good. He pulls away from the kiss, biting on your lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood.

Langdon undoes his belt and yanks it from his waist. “Turn around,” he says, pushing you the other way. You obey his orders, turning around and waiting for your next command. He takes both of your wrists behind your back and bounds them tightly in his belt, squeezing your, already wounded, wrists so tight that you’re unable to move either of your hands. “How’s that?” he asks.

“Tight,” you answer with a slight chuckle.

He tightens them even more and you wince. “Good,” he responds sourly. “Now, I want you in a position you’re familiar with,” he whispers, his lips shaving the shell of your ear. You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, he’s driving you crazy. “Get on your knees.”

You conform, turning around to face him and getting on your knees, trying to balance yourself without your hands. You look up at him with big eyes, marinating in the hypnagogic moment. Even if you tell everyone it’s a drag, you adore being Langdon’s pet. You love having him dominate you, it’s the only thing that’s kept you sane in the outpost lately.

“I bet you want to taste me now, don’t you?” he asks.

You suck on your bottom lip, moistening them up for him. “I want your cum, daddy,” you nod.

“I bet you’re salivating just thinking about it,” he continues. He wears a condescending smile that negates his words. “But dirty whores don’t get daddy’s cum,” he scoffs. “They lick daddy’s shoes.”

Your eyes travel down his body to his boots. Wired to follow his orders in a heartbeat, you lean down to his leather Tabi boots. They’re quite an unusual design, with a cut in the toe to look like hooves. You run your tongue along the soft leather of his boot and kiss the tip his big toe occupies. You continue licking the top and he lifts up his shoe, exposing the sole. As soon as he lifts it, you look up at him for conformation, he doesn’t budge. There is minimal dust and dirt on the bottom, not too much to complain about. After a second of hesitation, you put your tongue flat on the sole and lick up all of the accumulated filth from the bottom of his shoe. “Good girl,” he encourages. You make sure to clean up every inch and swallow all of it before stopping. He puts his shoe back on the ground and raises an eyebrow, impressed with your commitment. “Now the other shoe,” he orders.

You begin licking the leather again, starting with the little divide in the shoe and working your way out. He lifts up his shoe again and you lick the soles once more. Negligently washing his expensive shoes with your tongue until they’re pristine. You sit up on your knees when you’re done, maneuvering the grime in your mouth and trying to swallow any remnants. “Such a good little whore,” he smiles. “You need something to wash down that dirt, don’t you?”

You nod your head again. “Yes, daddy. I do,” you admit. The feeling of sandy dirt still contaminating your mouth.

He unzips his dress pants; the bulge of his erection bloats in his boxers. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous right now,” he taunts.

Langdon pulls out his erect cock, his length always takes your breath away. No matter how many times you see his dick, it’s always surprising to see how long and thick it is. His father truly did bless him in every possible aspect.

You open your mouth and bring it to his dick, getting ready to suck the tip, but he pushes you back. “No, no, no,” he buzzes. “Lean your head back and open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, leaning back and opening your mouth. You stick your tongue out of your mouth and he positions himself above you. Holding his hardy cock in his hand and aiming his hole at your face before splashing out a warm fluid.

You close your eyes to avoid any stinging. The liquid spatters onto your face and gets in your hair, making your whole head wet in a few seconds. Once the salty substance hits your tongue, you know that he’s urinating on you. He aims it closer to your mouth and you open wider for him to release into you, using you like a public restroom.

“How’s this for a punishment? Exciting enough for you?” he presses. You swallow everything that he leaks into you, washing down the dirt from his sole with it. It surprises you that the taste isn’t unpleasant, you actually enjoy him using you like this.

His stream gets quite weaker, but you devour every drop he gives you. “Such a nasty girl, goddamn,” he says with a laugh. He stops urinating on you and you swallow the last bit that was in your mouth, finally opening your eyes to a surprised Langdon.

You wipe away some of the urine near your eyes with your shoulder and lick the remains around your lips. “So good, daddy,” you respond sweetly. A slight smirk crosses his plump lips, you can tell he’s proud of you. Proud of his little pet for abiding the rules for once.

He leans into you, his hard cock grazing your lips. You open your mouth, inviting his pink tip in, and suck any leftover urine. You run your tongue over his tip and look up at him, batting your lustrous eyes. He rolls his eyes back when you ram his whole cock into your mouth. Bobbing your head back and forth, not daring to disrupt his pleasure even if you feel yourself choking.

You pull your head back, feeling his length escape your throat. A white string of saliva connects your lips to his dick when you pull away and you suck up any excess saliva you produced. You can’t help but give the head of his impressive cock one more suck before finishing off.

He pulls you up by your shoulders. You stand on your toes to kiss him, but he pushes you backwards onto his bed. You land on your wrists, almost forgetting that he had bound them earlier. He zips himself back up before moving onto the bed with you. You move your arms up, trying to spin your tightly tied wrists, but they don’t comply. They hang off of the bed, while the rest of your body is laid out for Langdon’s consumption.

He starts down by your ankles, giving open mouth kisses on both of your legs until he reaches the insides of your thighs. He kisses the insides, getting slower and wetter the closer he gets to your pulsating core. He lifts up both sides of your panties and lets them go, slapping them onto your hips. You instinctively buck your hips at the sudden slap, then smile at his teasing. He takes both sides again, this time pulling them in opposite directions and ripping your panties in half with minimal effort. You gasp at his aggressiveness. He gasps too, mocking yours.

He sits up over you. One of your thighs threaded between his. He looks down at you, gorgeous blonde hair spilling over his shoulders. He rubs one warm hand over your hot clit, finally feeling his touch is so liberating. He grips your face with his other hand again. “Are you having fun?” he inquires, still rubbing you languidly.

“Yes,” you answer, squirming under his touch.

He stops rubbing you for a moment and you loudly sigh from the loss of contact. He slaps your throbbing cunt and you let out a sharp shriek. He smacks it harder and you groan, curling your toes in agony. You move your head to the side and bite your arm to cope with the pain. “Good,” he says lowly.

He rubs your clit again and you take a deep breath in, still biting down on your arm to not make noise. He rubs faster and harder, issuing a moan out of you. He stops again and you bite hard, feeling a tear roll down the side of your face. You stop biting your arm and glance at him with begging eyes. “Please don’t stop,” your voice falters.

Your pleading falls on deaf ears, his expression doesn’t change. He slaps your throbbing pussy again, getting another yelp out of you. He slaps it harder and you cry out a mangled groan. He keeps smacking your sensitive cunt until it’s puffy and swollen. “Please,” you beg again. He gives one hard slap and you yell loud enough for everybody in the outpost to hear.

He leans in close to you. “Do you wanna come?” he asks, hovering his hand over your cunt. You try nodding your head in the grip of his hand and fail, he slaps your pussy again. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “God, yes. Please I want to come.”

He lets go of your face and moves down your body, running his tongue through the valley of your breasts, down your torso, and all the way to your crotch. He spits on your folds; you feel his warm spit travel down your pussy. He licks it up, the feeling of his tepid tongue on your vagina makes your heart skip. He licks again, starting lower. Then again, starting from your asshole up to your clit. “Michael!” you yelp, his tongue still venturing where it never has before.

He sops up your already drenched pussy and lubes up your asshole with his heated saliva. He slowly inserts two fingers into your pussy, and one into your ass. You take a sharp inhale when he does this, you’ve never had fingers in your ass before.

He starts working your holes, starting slow and steady. His fingers inching in deeper, the metal of his rings adding a pleasurable coolness to your sweltering cunt. He pulses his fingers inside of you, hitting them up against your g-spot. You can already feel yourself coming undone, but you fight to keep yourself together. His tongue licks your clit and you moan, unable to hold it in anymore. His tongue pulses to the same rhythm as his fingers, speeding up at the same time.

The lower half of your body feels completely disabled. Your legs are trembling and your feet are pointed from holding in your pleasure. You grind your hips on his face, his light blue eyes peer up at you, begging for your cum. You’d give anything to unbind his makeshift handcuffs and run your fingers through his soft hair.

You don’t hide it anymore, you let out all your moans. He notices you’re unravelling and takes the opportunity to fuck you harder. Pulsing his fingers inside your holes vigorously and slurping up your dripping pussy. His aggressiveness makes your cunt go numb, and it feels like your world stops. You dig your nails into your hands, aching to touch him. A few yells getting caught in your throat, holding them in in fear someone will burst in screaming bloody murder. “Oh my god,” is all you can manage to mutter through your endless moans.

Langdon laughs, a wave of his hot breath washing over your pussy. “God can’t fuck you like this,” he disputes with a devilish grin. You can’t bring yourself to amuse his joke, you feel yourself coming on him.

Your hips move wildly against his face, grinding yourself against his moist tongue. Nails digging into yourself harder than ever. You cry out his name along with deformed moans, trying your best to stay quiet, but failing miserably. “Langdon! Fuck!” you heave in between solid breaths. You’re both on the same wavelength, he fucks you just how you want him to, just how you need him to. With one hard plunge, you let out your last groan. Your juices spilling onto his fingers and he licks it up, sticking two of his fingers into his wet mouth and sucking you off of him.

“This one’s for you,” he whispers, crawling up to you and sticking his third finger into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, this is the one that was in your ass. It doesn’t have much flavour, it’s rather sweet if anything. You suck it right off of his warm finger, tasting the sweetness of your ass mixed with the saltiness of his finger. “Want more?” he asks.

You nod your head, out of breath from his gratification. “Yes,” you concur, “please give me more, daddy.”

He smiles, he likes when you beg him. “Of course you do,” he responds, “So gluttonous. I bet you want to me to fuck you right now, don’t you?”

You eagerly nod again. “Hard, Mr. Langdon.”

He leans over you, the back of his hand caressing your cheek tenderly. His warm fingers contrast with the cold metal rings that fit each of his fingers, goosebumps instantly line your skin. “I just need to remind you of one thing,” his lips graze yours.

The temptation to reach up and kiss his full lips is unbearable. “What’s that?” you whisper back.

“I don’t share,” he chastises. Your heart drops hearing the hatred possessing his tone.

He moves away from your face. Finally undressing himself, he rips his expensive shirt, the buttons clink against the floor as he starts zipping down his pants. You lay back, watching him unclothe himself with big eyes, waiting for him to unsheathe his shaft. You take the moment to appreciate his beauty, and damn he has a lot of it.

He pulls down his pants and fishes in his boxers when his eyes connect with yours. He cocks his head to the side, taking his hand out of his underwear. “A little privacy,” he smirks, grabbing your legs. He rapidly spins you around so you’re laying on your stomach, the wind gets knocked out of you from astonishment. You wonder how he had the strength to do that.

You feel his weight leave the bed. His warm hands guide your hips towards the ceiling. You prop yourself on your elbows the best that you can with bound wrists. He pushes your legs apart, your knees shaking from nervousness. You feel his hands grab a handful of your ass and you push it out more for him. He lets go and gives a hard slap on your ass, forsaking a delicious sting. You gasp at the sudden pain. “That’s for disobeying me,” he scolds.

You catch your breath, stunned by his hostility. “I should disobey you more often,” you quip.

He slaps your other cheek in response and you gasp again. You feel a depression in the bed behind you and your breath hitches in your throat. His hand resting on your lower back, you feel him drag his rounded tip along your wet folds. “I think you forgot who you belong to,” he sneers. You feel him add pressure on your hole, he spits on his cock, “I think you forgot who your ass belongs to.”

He rams his tip into your asshole and you take in a sharp breath, your hands instinctively reaching to grab him, but unsuccessful from their inability to move. Your upper body falls limp onto his bed. Both of his hands grab your sides as he slowly glides his hard cock into your ass, spitting again for extra lubrication. All of your words get caught in your breath; it feels like he’s intruding, but you don’t want him to stop.

He’s in deep when he abruptly stops. “Relax for me,” he instructs. You let out a wavered deep breath, his warm hands soothing you, running up your back. In your next breath, you let everything out, all of your jitters and tension, stress and timidity, it all withers away. He moves into you deeper and you finally feel the pleasure. A moan slips from your lips and he grabs a fistful of your hair.

He pumps in and out of you, gradually speeding up the more comfortable you get. “Mr. Lan…” his name dies on your lips and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You bite your lip to keep from moaning. “Fuck me,” you whine.

He yanks your hair back and slams into your ass, you pant as he tugs harder. You let out a few pornographic noises and an animalistic groan escapes his lips. “Do you think he’d fuck you like I do?” he snaps, pulling harder, “Do you think he’d take you in the ass? You belong to me.” You let out a laugh, unapologetically entertained by his jealousy. At least it shows he gives a fuck about you.

When he hears your laugh, he sadistically drives himself into you harder, your laugh cut off by a cry. The acute pain is immediately consumed by thrill, your heart pounding with excitement. “Oh yeah, daddy,” you sigh. His pounding gets more intense, he lives for your praise. “Fuck me harder, I’m all yours.”

He relentlessly pulls your hair back and brutally fucks you. Pumping into your ass, the only sound in the room is your skin slapping against his and muffled moans. Both of his rough hands wrap around your neck and your moans get caught in your throat. He tightens his grip, your heart drops. Even though you trust him, Langdon has always been unpredictable. It crosses your mind that he may kill you, but in some sickening way that turns you on. The harder he squeezes, the wetter you feel yourself getting. Your cunt dripping onto his bed, you want to leave a big mess for him.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks. Your words get caught in your throat and you stifle a moan. He does one hard thrust into you, squeezing your neck even more, cutting off your breath. “I asked, who do you belong to?” anger rising in his voice.

“You,” your voice is strained. “I belong to you.”

He eases on his grip and you take in a deep breath, drinking in the air you were deprived. “That’s right,” he breathes, “you’re all mine.” He doesn’t give you a minute to catch your breath before ramming your tight hole even more. You’re greedy for more, pushing your ass against him and shoving him inside you deeper. You feel his leg lift onto the bed, brushing against the back of your thigh. He holds your hair in one hand and your side in the other.

Langdon starts fucking you harder than before. Every time you think he’s being ruthless, not holding back, he upstages himself, vehemently pounding his stiff cock into you. You aren’t intelligible anymore, unable to construct a sentence, unable to say a goddamn word. Orgasm overtakes you. Langdon raises your leg and you fall onto your side, finally able to look at him. His hooded eyes stare down at you as if reasserting his overt dominance.

His stone face breaks, his nostrils flare and he releases a low grumble from his chest. Both of you groaning at the same time with each thrust. He becomes as incoherent as you are. You feel yourself coming on him, only able to yell out your moans to absolve your pleasure. Your soaking pussy gets wetter with each plunge into you.

You fight to scream, but it gets caught in your throat. A final moan pours out of you, your juices spilling all over him as you come on his leg. Langdon continues fucking you until his thrusts get sloppier, his usual reluctance to show emotion is being corrupted by his unyielding moans. His restless technique getting clumsy as you feel him fill up your hole with his seed. His body contorting before sluggishly dropping onto you, exhaling his orgasm with a light grunt. Both of you dripping sweat and fervently catching your breaths, coming down from the ecstasy. His hands scramble to unbind your wrists and you throw his belt to the side, rubbing the sweat from your wrists.

He pulls himself out of you and rolls onto his back, laying on the bed next to you. You feel his cum pouring out of your ass, swiping a bit of it from your hole and licking the salty liquid off your finger. Langdon breathes out a laugh and rolls onto his side to planting a warm kiss on your lips. When he pulls away, his hand stays cupping your cheek, your hand on his. “Did I hurt you?” he questions.

A smile spreads on your face, this is the caring Langdon you’re used to during sex. “No,” you answer, drawing circles on the back of his hand.

“Good,” he sighs. He lays on his back again and lets out a deep sigh. You throw your arm around his body and he pulls you close to him. Your head fits under his arm and he brushes his fingertips against your back, making little figure-eights on your shoulder blade.

His heaving chest grows steadier with each breath, as does yours. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you against him tighter as if he’s afraid you’ll leave. You hear him take in a breath like he’s about to speak, but he doesn’t say a word. You stay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the stillness and absorbing everything that just happened.

“Will you ever leave me?” he breaks the lull.

Your heart drops to your stomach. “What do you mean? Why are you asking that?” your voice is hoarse.

“Because you’re all I have,” he sighs.

You fight back the itch to look up at him, instead rubbing circles on his chest with your hand. “I won’t leave you,” you promise. You don’t want to leave him, even if he’s constantly hot and cold, there’s something charming about his temperament.

You feel him exhale and allow yourself to look up at him. You rest your chin on his chest and he looks down at you with a smile, moving some of the hair glued to your forehead behind your ear. His eyes find the ceiling and his face turns neutral as he persists to graze his fingers down your back. You lay your head on his chest again, hearing his temperate heartbeat. In moments like these, it’s hard for you to recall that Langdon is the spawn of Satan. He seems so warm and fragile.

“Y/N, you’re all mine,” he croaks.

You can’t suppress the smile that creeps across your face. “Okay.”

~~~~

2 tiny tags hehe:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @edenlilyrose

#ive been really into nin lately lol #this ones naaasty #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #jim mason #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #apocalypse #smut #outpost michael #ahs imagine #michael langdon smut #langdon #ahs #outpost 3 #michael langdon x fem reader #ahs fanfic #michael langdon one shot

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izzygyrl · 6 years ago

Text

TLC (Tender Loving Care? NOPE: Tables Ladders & Chairs) {Fem!Reader x WWE Superstars} PART TWO

Part 1: Here!

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Words: 3099

Summary: Aftermath of the TLC match in part one

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Enjoy!!! Feedback welcome!!!

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“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

“THE LOSER OF THIS MATCH IS BARON CORBIN, THEREFORE HE IS NO LONGER THE GENERAL MANAGER OF RAW!!”

The cheering in the ring was so loud, it was almost silent. As you lay there, off to the side of the ring, your chest rising and falling very deeply, you couldn't believe how loud the crowd was. If they went any higher, only dogs would have been able to hear them.

Your back was throbbing in pain with a pulse-like beat. The adrenaline which had stopped the full pain to come through was dying down and your back was getting more and more painful.

You looked over to see Heath had put his referee shirt back on and was now holding hands with the other men and raising them up, above their heads in victory.

As they lowered their hands you saw Finn Bàlor get the other men’s attention and he gestured to you and they all seemed to notice your limp body once more.

As the group stepped towards you, Bobby and Chad bent down. “You did an amazing job (Y/N).” Bobby said to you, slightly yelling over the roar of the crowd. You gave him a small smile. “Thanks. Now can you help me up?” You asked with a hoarse chuckle.

The others laughed and together Bobby and Chad, grabbed you by the arms and heaved you to your feet. Apollo placed a hand on your shoulder and you looked at him and he had the most apologetic look on his face you had ever seen. “(Y/N) I’m so sorry. The sudden movement startled me and I reacted before--.”

“It’s fine Apollo. I’ll be fine.” You said giving him the best smile you could give in that moment.

“Hold on a second guys.” You heard Heath say and looked up to see him stepping towards you. Both Bobby and Chad let go of you and stepped back to let Heath come to you. Heath then took you by the wrist and guided you away from the group of men and led you to the middle of the ring. He then flung it up into the air.

The crowd went wild.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)!” The crowd screamed your name as you stood there. A smile came to your face and you nodded in thanks to the WWE Universe.

Walking back to the group of guys you began to leave the ring together. Angle went out first hopping of the ring apron before turning back towards you. As you stepped forward, Finn held the ropes open and you slipped through. As you bent down your back throbbed once more and you winced. Kurt caught that look of pain on your face. “Sit down and slide off.” He instructed.

You did as you were told and sat down on the edge of the ring before sliding down. You gave Kurt a smile of thanks and together you started to walk up the ramp.

“KURT!”

You turned around to see Chad with a worried look on his face. “Her back!” Was all he said.

You were utterly confused. However Kurt looked at your back and you heard him sigh. He gave Chad a thumbs up before turning and taking you gently by the arm. “Follow me.” He said.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he led you up the ramp.

“Sports medicine.” He said. By now you had reached the top of the ramp.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because.” Kurt said, as you exited the arena and passed the threshold of the gorilla. “You’re back is bleeding.”

As you entered the backstage area of TLC you were covered with verbal congratulations, both from other WWE superstars along with cast and crew. A few people tried to pat you on the shoulder or back but they were stopped by Kurt barking at them suddenly.

“Don’t touch her!” He said.

You were becoming more and more concerned with why he was acting so almost frantic like. As you continued to walk the pain began to get worse. Your adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was becoming more and more apparent. You also felt a slight dampness to your back. Your referee shirt seemed to be sticking to your back. Probably sweat, you thought to yourself.

However curiosity got the best of you and you quickly reached behind and swiped your hand across your back, where you felt the most damp and sticky. Bringing up to your face you nearly stopped dead in your tracks.

Your fingers were covered in blood.

Kurt saw your fingers and pulled you a bit more. “It’s going to be okay (Y/N), it’s worse than it looks right now.” He said. You followed along quietly just staring at your red fingers, anxiety creeping through you.

Together, the two of you weaved in and out of the labyrinth of halls until you reached the Sports medicine room.

Kurt nearly kicked open the door.

Inside you were met by Senior Ringside Physician, Dr. Christopher Amann, and Dr. Chris Robinson another Ringside Physician. They turned from the monitors in the room where you saw they were rewatching your match. They then quickly got to work.

Dr. Amann approached you first. “Now (Y/N) we saw the match and it seems like you took a nasty hit. I’m going to have you sit down with your back straight and I want you to face me alright?” He said.

You nodded. You knew Dr. Amann and Dr. Robinson well. They had healed you many times and were well respected here at WWE. They had been with the company for almost 10 years now.

You winced as you got up on the exam table carefully, Dr. Robinson behind you and Dr. Amann in front.

“(Y/N), you’re going to have to take the referee shirt off so we can see the extent of injury.” Dr. Robinson said.

“Can you see if you can lift your arms up on your own?” Dr. Amann asked. You nodded and slowly began to lift both arms up above your head. “Any pain?” Dr. Amann asked. You shook your head.

“Alright can you see if you can bend your arms at the elbows? Try to place the palm of your hands on opposite elbows.” He said showing you how with his own arms. Through his black polo his muscles bulged.

You did as asked, and were able to do the task but not without pain. You inhaled deeply and a look of pain crossed your face, which Dr. Amann saw. “Alright (Y/N). We’re going to cut the shirt off you okay?” He asked. You nodded as you let your arms relax.

“I’ll be outside if you need anything okay (Y/N)?” Kurt suddenly spoke up. You gave him a nod and a smile. “Thank you Kurt. And please let the guys know-especially Apollo that I’ll be fine and I hope to see them later?” You asked.

Kurt gave you a smile of his own before nodded. “I will.” He said. He then nodded to you and the the doctors before exiting the room.

“Alright. Dr. Robinson I believe the scissors for fabric are in the 2nd shelf to the left. Also please hand me a pair of gloves as well. ” Dr. Amann said. You heard the opening of a drawer and the sound of clinking metal before you heard the shut of the drawer. An arm appeared next to your left side and Dr. Amann reached for the gloves within the already gloved hand of Dr. Robinson.

“I’m going to start cutting the shirt off alright (Y/N)?” Dr. Robinsons voice was behind you.

“Got it.” You said.

You heard the opening of the scissors and felt a tug at the bottom of your shirt. The hairs on your neck stood up as you could almost feel the scissors, though they weren’t touching you, near your back.

Slowly Dr. Robinson began to cut the shirt away. You could tell where the shirt was wet with blood because the snip of the scissors was less sharp.

As the physician reached the collar you felt the shirt loosen as he cut the final seam. “Careful.” Dr. Robinson said to his colleague. “The blood has dried in some places and might stick to her skin.”

With a nod, Dr. Amann slowly began to take the shirt off leaving you in your sports bra.

“I’m going to have you lie down on your stomach and we’re going to cut the bra off too okay?” Dr. Amann said. “But I want you to lie down on this bed instead.” He said.

He led you to a similar looking bed however it had a spa like chair headpiece with a hole in it where you could place your head without turning it. You got on it, and lay down with help from Dr. Amann. You quickly caught sight of the cut shirt you had been wearing and saw the back was seeping in blood. Dr. Robinson must have caught your wide eyed expression because he spoke up. “Trust me (Y/N) it’s not as bad as it looks.” He said.

As you lay down on the paper covered cot, you sighed.

“If you’re feeling any pain at all let us know okay?” Dr. Amann said.

“Will do.” You replied.

Dr. Robinson got to work and cut your sports bra off pushing it down so it was still underneath you covering up but out of the way of your back.

“Alright. I think we’re ready.” Dr Robinson said.

You heard the clatter of the scissors as they were set down and another drawer opening.

“Because there's a lot of blood we’re going to wipe the blood away first with water and then with alcohol pads okay?” Dr. Robinson said.

“Mhmm.” You said.

As they worked, they made sure you were not feeling any pain whatsoever. You felt the water drip over your back and felt the sting of it as it cleared the cuts. You let out a hiss, to which Dr. Amann said, “You’re doing great (Y/N).”

They got to work using the alcohol pads which was so painful you gripped the cot until your knuckles turned white.

“Well it looks like when Apollo hit you with the chair the edge must have caught on the shirt and accidentally cut you on the back. Do you remember feeling a sting that a cut would cause? I wasn’t able to see a rip in the shirt because of all the blood.” Dr. Robinson informed you.

You shook your head. “I only felt the sting of when the chair hit my back.” You told him.

“Well it’s only a long cut that was superficial but it bled a lot because of all the movement you did. It should heal completely in a week or two.” He said.

“However, I am concerned that when Apollo hit you, you might have hurt your back. Nothing major but I when I saw it hurt to bend your arms I suspect you might have a bruised or sprained back.” He said.

“We’re going patch you up for now but I want to be 100% sure you’re not seriously injured-which I don’t believe you are but you never know with back and spine injuries.” Dr. Amann said.

“I’m going to have you go to the Santa Clara Valley Medical Center to get a few X-rays.” He said. “Just to be 100% sure.”

As they finished up putting a temporary patch, you wondered what you had missed in the ring.

“Alright we’re going to get you up now. Easy does it.” He said.

With their help you sat up, clutching your bra to your chest. Dr. Robinson quickly gave you a towel which you wrapped yourself in.You removed your bra and threw it in the hazardous waste bin.

“I’m gonna grab you a shirt to wear okay?” Dr. Robinson said.

“Try to find a button up if possible. I don’t want her raising her arms too much.” Dr. Amann said to Dr. Robinson before he left.

Now it was just you and Dr. Amann. “How’s the pain level?” He asked. You sighed. “I mean it hurts but that’s normal right?” You asked. “I’d be worried if I wasn’t in pain.” You told him which caused him to chuckle. “Very true.” He said.

Dr. Amann picked up your bloody referee shirt and threw it in the hazardous waste bin. He then replaced the paper on the other bed, before he snapped his gloves off and threw them away. “You did well out there.” He said.

“Well I did as best I could with what was thrown at me.” You replied to which made Dr. Amann smile.

There was a knock on the door which made Dr. Amann turn. “Who is it?” He called out.

“It’s Roode and a few others with Baron.” You heard Bobby’s voice on the other side of the door.

Dr. Amann glanced at you in your towel and you gave him a “it’s alright” look. With a nod he then opened the door.

In the doorway was Bobby Roode and Chad Gable with the other guys from the match. They were helping Baron Corbin who looked quiet battered and bruised but still standing.

“Vince wanted him to get checked out just to be safe.” Chad said.

“I’m fine!” Corbin snapped trying to shake loose from the men holding him. “You’re being ridiculous. I can take a few hits from a chair!” He snapped.

Dr. Amann had a “won’t take no for an answer” look on his face. “Baron on the cot. Now.” He said.

With a sigh the tall man trudged past you and made his way to the cot behind you. He nodded to you and you gave him a nod back. Dr. Amann put a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” He said. He then pulled a divider that was against the wall out and went behind it to check on Baron.

You turned to the guys who had accompanied him. Apollo, Chad, Bobby, and Finn.

“Hey (Y/N). How you feeling?” Finn asked.

You smiled at him as well as the others. “I’m fine. The chair cut me accidentally without me knowing. Dr. Amann and Dr. Robinson patched me up and want me to go to local medical center for a few tests just in case there’s something they missed but they’re pretty confident it’s not serious.” You told them.

With every word you spoke Apollo looked more and more upset. “(Y/N), I am so sorry that this happened.” He said shaking his head.

You gave him a smile. “Apollo don’t beat yourself up. I’m fine!” You said.

“What’s with the towel?” Chad asked.

“They had to cut my shirt and bra off to patch me up.” You said and you tried not to smile as all their eyes went wide as they realized the situation. “Dr. Robinson is trying to find me a shirt.” You said.

“Here. Use this for now.” And you watched as Bobby took off his robe leaving him only in his blue underwear he wore in the ring. You balked surprised at the gesture for you knew how much the robe was to him. He saw your face and chuckled. He then placed it over your shoulders. “Guy’s lets give (Y/N) a minuet.” He said and the men all turned their backs. You quickly removed the towel and put the robe on, tying the chord. It was much better than the towel. “You guys can turn now.” You said.

They did and you saw Bobby give a surprised look. “That actually looks really good on you!” He said causing you to chuckle. “Thank you.” You said.

As you sat there talking for another five minutes, they caught you up on the matches. The whole WWE Universe was wondering how you were since you had left. “Vince even asked about you.” Chad said, which caused you to raise an eyebrow.

Suddenly the divider was pushed aside and Dr. Amann came back and you saw Corbin buttoning up his vest.

“You good?” You asked Corbin. He nodded. “Yeah. You?”

You gave him a smirk. “I’ll live.” You said. He smiled as he walked around the other side to face you. Suddenly the door opened and in walked Dr. Robinson with a TLC ‘18 button up baseball style jersey in his hand. “Oh hey guys.” He said nodding to the group of men before walking up to you. “(Y/N), here you are.” He said. You gave him a nod of thanks.

Suddenly another knock was at the door. In came one of the stage managers, his headset around his neck. “Hey guys. I’ve got Vince on the phone. Vince wants (Y/N) to make an appearance if possible.” He said looking at you.

You gazed at Dr. Amann and Dr. Robinson. “What do you think?” You asked.

“If it’s quick and we go right to the medical center after the show then I think it would be alright.” Dr. Amann said to which Dr. Robinson gave a nod of agreement.

The techie put a phone to his ear and relayed the message.

You could hear garble on the other line.

“She looks fine. She’s wearing Bobby’s robe.” He said.

More garble.

“Yes sir. Alright bye.”

He ended the call.

“Vince wants you to come out and all the guys will be outside the medical room waiting and you come out. He then wants Bobby to give you his robe and you guys walk off all together.” He said. He looked around at the whole group. “Can you do that?”

You nodded.

“Alright. Places in five minutes.” The man said before leaving.

“Excuse me.” You said grabbing the new shirt Dr. Robinson got you and stepping behind the divider. You took the robe off and quickly put the shirt on. Coming out you handed Bobby his robe. “I’m ready.”

You heard Dr. Amann chuckle. Turning to him you gave him a quizzical look. He was shaking his head, a impressed look on his face. “You are one tough cookie.” He said.

You gave him a beaming smile, the pain in your back all but forgotten. “Only a true fighter get back up when everything else is telling them to stay down.” You said.

Dr. Amann nodded. “You are a true fighter if I ever saw one (Y/N).”

This time it was you who nodded. “You’ve got that right Doctor.”

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