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asxgard · 19 days ago

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Companionship | pt. 4

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

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Summary: The lines of your agreement begin to blur with one simple word: sweetheart.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented and/or followed me!! I truly appreciate each and every one of you💜(I’m screaming with joy on the inside)

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: age gap, alcohol, mild fluff, feelings, foul language, hospital stresses, some angst thrown in because what the hell, slowburn, they AWKWARD (I love them)/bad jokes, idk Robby’s a hockey fan because I could totally see that (baseball too)

not beta read

When one of your co-workers had asked you on a date the following week, you had turned him down. It had come as a surprise, not having said much more than pleasantries to each other when you passed in the hall. He was nice, attractive enough to have caught your attention before, but you told him you were not looking to date. Too busy, gotta focus on school, just not for me right now, were all valid reasons. Not because of Michael. Nope. That would be stupid.

You tried to remove yourself from getting too wrapped up in your imagination. Frankly, because it was making you incredibly anxious. You texted Erin and Marsi to hang out, to come study, to go out for brunch, anything to get you out of your apartment. You worked longer hours. You even joined a random study group with some other accounting majors.

You believed you had it all back on track just two weeks after your dinner. But it was hard to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever he called. You kept telling yourself it was still the anxiety around the arrangement and not the person on the other end.

Michael called late one Tuesday, exhausted from his shift. You began to think that perhaps he did not enjoy returning to an empty, quiet apartment to be alone with his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, rougher than usual.

“Long night?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, laying down on your bed after changing into some pajamas.

He let out a long sigh, “Perhaps another time.”

You were smart enough to pick up on the deflection, but you hummed, “Sure.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt stupid for getting upset over his deflection, annoyed that it was likely just going to be another night you filled the void with your voice. Was it stupid and unjustified to get frustrated with him? More than likely. Did you feel that way anyways? Definitely. You kept trying to remind yourself you were both barely acquaintances, and this was exactly what you had signed up for.

“Can I ask you something?” You ventured, glancing at your nails.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you become a doctor?”

There were several moments of silence as he digested the question, and you anxiously bit at the side of your nails.

“I wanted to help people.” He told you, but there was something in his tone that suggested it was just a reflex answer. In the quiet that followed, he cleared his throat, “It wasn’t easy. I was tested at every turn, still am. But it meant something. It mattered.”

Something so large went unspoken between you — I mattered. You did not dare speak on it.

“That’s very honorable.”

“Honor’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Well, I find that very honorable. Selfless.” You stressed, staring up at your ceiling.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment, “how was your day?”

Despite wanting to push, you realized that perhaps you had wandered into territory far too personal for your arrangement, which made your cheeks flare with heat. You found yourself wanting to get to know him more than was likely appropriate.

You launched into your day, discussing a few minor details about work and the new system they were slowly beginning to implement. You paused after he yawned, causing you to mirror it.

“Goodnight,” you said first, eyes heavy.

“Goodnight,”

—

It was easily your busiest day all month. Between onboarding a bunch of new employees, cashing out a handful of ones that had quit, studying for an exam, a project and a few prior commitments to hang out with your friends, you were stretched thin. You left your apartment early and were not set to return until late.

Hunger ate away at your stomach as lunchtime came and went without stopping to eat. Thankfully you had left a granola bar in your desk drawer, but it did little to satisfy you.

After clocking in overtime, you left the office just after 6 — moving into your car and finally taking a breath. You quickly went through a handful of notifications, before finding a text from Michael timestamped at 2:23.

Can we talk tonight?

You debated it. You wanted to, but you still had things to do and you were starving.

Raincheck?

I had the busiest day and I haven’t been able to eat yet.

Your phone buzzed with an alert not even a moment later, while you sat still in your car, trying to take a moment for yourself.

We could grab food instead?

. . .

New Thai place opened up near me

Your stomach grumbled, making up your mind for you. Smiling to yourself and deciding the last details of your project could be edited the following morning, you agreed, asking for the address.

You were far too hungry for the nerves of seeing him again to invade — instead trying to freshen up with the aid of your sun visor mirror and whatever you could find in your bag. Lipgloss and a tiny bottle of perfume were going to have to make it work. You studied your reflection, and tried to fix your hair as much as you could given the circumstances.

The Thai place was busy, which considering they had only just opened, should have been expected. You found a parking space near the back and sent a text to let Michael know you had arrived.

Smoothing out your work slacks and blouse once you were out of the car, you pulled your blazer tight — the evening having grown chilly. You saw Michael waiting near the front door, dressed in jeans and a casual zip-up sweatshirt, a festival t-shirt peeking through.

You smiled as you approached, “Hi.”

He smiled in return, taking you in, putting his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. “Hi.”

You glanced in the window to see how busy the place was and your stomach protested.

“They said the wait to sit down was likely going to be an hour,”

You frowned, glancing around at the other buildings on each side of the street.

“There’s a Chinese place just a block away, we could try that?” He offered.

“Do you mind?” You asked quietly, bringing your arms across your body. “I’d still like to check this place out, but I don’t think I can wait that long.”

He smiled easily, “Not at all.”

You stepped into pace with him, heading down the sidewalk towards the Chinese restaurant. You were away from the more central part of Pittsburgh, but traffic still whizzed by, undisturbed by the darkening skies.

“Did you work today?” You asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.

“No, but I have a swing shift tomorrow. Haven’t had to work one of those in awhile, but we’re short staffed.” He explained with a tiny shrug.

You absorbed the new information. “You usually work days?”

“Normally, yeah. Sort of a perk of…my job title.” He chuckled.

Part of you wanted to ask what exactly that title was, but realized it would likely give away too much information. From everything you knew about his job, it definitely seemed like he worked in a hospital as opposed to a clinic or private practice — ICU perhaps? Emergency room? Curiosity ate away in your mind, picturing him in a white lab coat, but you tried to shake off the thought.

He held the door open for you, and you stepped into the restaurant, taking it in. The smell of food was overwhelming until it was all you could consider, your stomach making it painfully obvious how empty it was. You took note of the vending machines against the wall and the two tables — both occupied. You turned back to him and watched as he noticed the lack of seating as well.

“We could just get take out,” he said, eyes meeting yours. “My place is just a few blocks away.”

You swallowed, and genuinely considered it. You were far too hungry to try someplace else and you turned to look at the menu. Fuck it.

“That was—that was forward of me. I didn’t mean—just so we have a place to sit down and eat. We can—”

You looked up at him and smiled, “No, that’s fine. Killing me would be so hypocritical of the whole ‘do no harm’ thing.”

He blinked and your face instantly heated, digesting your own words.

“That was a terrible joke, oh my god—”

He laughed. He laughed.

All your fears washed away at the sound of it, and you smiled sheepishly before turning towards the counter at the end of the restaurant.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a breath, grin still stretched across his face, “I wasn’t laughing at you.”

“No! I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to insinuate—”

He waved off your concern, moving towards the counter. “No harm done.”

You both ordered, and you got your usual and Michael ordered orange chicken — but you both moved to pay. You stared down at each of your cards, catching just a glimpse of his full name on the front — Michael C. Rob — the rest covered by his thumb. You glanced at his face.

His brown eyed gaze was on you, too, holding steady for several beats of your heart, and it took the sigh from the woman behind the counter for you to move again.

“I got it.” He said.

“Thank you.” You whispered, putting your card back into your wallet.

The woman informed you it would just take ten minutes, much to your relief. You moved off to the side and leaned against the wall to wait, Michael leaning next to you. It was a small space, filled with the sounds from the kitchen seen behind the counter, and the light conversation from the five other people sitting down.

Thoughts moving from your hunger and the food, you absorbed the information that he lived near here. It was a considerably nicer part of Pittsburgh, you knew you could never even afford a studio in the area, but it made sense. He had money — he had money to burn, considering your monthly stipend.

The walk back to his place after you had collected your food was quiet, and you savored the sound of his street — off the main streets, it was nice. You had long grown used to the white noise of cars outside your window in your own apartment.

There was a doorman when you arrived at his building, and you craned your neck to look up at it. Red brick and large windows, and your shoes clacked! on the clean tile once you were through the main door. It was immaculate, and gave you the sudden intrusive thought that you did not belong. It worked up your throat like bile and you turned your eyes to the floor.

You took the elevator up with him to one of the top floors, and you stared at yourself in the mirror on either side of the elevator. His reflection watched you, until the elevator doors opened. The hallway was empty and quiet, and you reflexively reached for the takeout bag so he could get his keys.

21B

His apartment was beautiful. Even before he flicked the lights on, you knew — late evening light spilling in from the windows along the far wall. It was an open floor plan, his front door opening into his living room with a tiny entryway. His kitchen was laid on the right side, with a quaint dining room set up, large windows and a door to a balcony. There was an archway that led to a hallway along the wall to your left — presumably to his bedroom and bathroom.

The brick accents did wonders for the space, and the furnishings were modest. Not fancy or flashy, but clearly not second-hand. There was something distinctly lived in about the space, a discarded book on the end table and scattered coasters on the coffee table. There was a dip on the L-shaped couch, a favorite spot undoubtedly, with the remote haphazardly discarded on one of the cushions.

He removed his shoes in the entryway, and you followed his lead before you followed after him.

“I don’t have much in terms of drinks,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, I’ve got water and iced tea…wine, I also have wine.”

You smiled at him, placing your bag on the granite countertop. “Water’s just fine, thank you.”

He nodded, putting the takeout bag next to the sink, when he reached into one of the cabinets to get a glass. While he sorted through the bag, and got your drink, you wandered over to the windows, glancing at the city sprawled out before you, the sunset burning behind the buildings. The sky was a fine array of oranges and reds, and you found you loved the view.

Michael cleared his throat behind you, making you jump. He smiled sheepishly, handing you the glass of water. You took it with a smile of your own and sipped it.

“You have a really nice place.” You found yourself saying, still looking over the walls and wood finishes.

“Oh, thank you.”

You walked back into the kitchen with him and followed his lead bringing your food into his living room. You glanced at his dining table, but did not question it — not being able to argue to sit down on a very comfortable looking couch after you had been running around all day.

You both began eating with a Penguins game in the background, and you did your best to be polite and not inhale your food.

“Did you want to talk about your day?” He asked after a few bites of his orange chicken.

You looked over to him, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Me?”

He looked amused, “You.”

You blinked, “I mean, aside from it being an incredibly long and busy day, there’s not much to say. A shitshow, but hey, that’s showbiz, baby.”

The corners of his lips rose into a grin, “Yeah? I didn’t know accounting and show business were related.”

You held up your hand and crossed two of your fingers, “Incredibly intertwined. You could play ‘pick the narcissist’ with either profession, and you’d be right either way.”

Michael laughed, “Run into a lot of those today?”

You shrugged, but your lips were inching upward, “Without delving into company secrets, yeah, my boss can be a bit of a megalomaniac. It’s all a numbers game, even at the price of employee satisfaction. There’s been a high turnover rate recently.”

Michael nodded like he fully understood what you were talking about. “Have you considered leaving?”

“Frequently. Once I graduate, for sure. Only a few more months.” You chewed a bite of your food, the hunger in your stomach ebbing away, “How has work been for you?”

“Admin has been on my ass,” he told you, eyes flickering to the tv and back to you. “Patient satisfaction scores, you know?”

“You have satisfaction scores?” You asked incredulously, confusion knitting your brows together. “That sounds like some shit they do for a fast food chain.”

He gestured wildly with his hands, “That’s what I said.”

“I mean, sure, satisfaction is important in any industry — but that wouldn’t be my main concern in a hospital environment. How is employee satisfaction?”

“Down,” Michael said with a frown. “Understaffing is a big problem. Nurses, attendings, techs, you name it. Wait times are high, and I just don’t have the staff to bring it down.”

“Damn,” you breathed out, “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised, especially not after the pandemic.”

He looked down into his food, nodding, “The pandemic hit us hard. There’s definitely a distinct difference in life before and life after for most of us.”

You watched him, noticing the smallest wince in his cheek at the mention of it. And to think just the other week that I had been thinking how nice it had been to work from home. You swallowed your guilt with the last bite of your food, noticing how the mood shifted.

Your knees brushed when he turned his eyes back to the television, a faraway look in his eyes. You bumped his knee purposefully the second time, gaining his attention.

“I don’t know how to help you, or even if I can, or if you even want me to. But I’m always here if you want to talk, or if you need a distraction.” You offered with a small smile.

His face relaxed at that, “And that’s enough, sweetheart, thank you. Being able to talk, or think about anything else has been incredibly helpful.”

While you absorbed everything he said, the word sweetheart bounced around in your head, making your palms clammy.

“Of course, yeah,” you looked away from him, unable to hold his gaze.

“I mean it.” He said, gaining your full attention, “Thank you.”

A genuine smile appeared on your face, soft and gentle.

Hours passed with simpler conversation, both your attentions on the hockey game. But you would be lying if you said you missed the way his touch lingered on your skin, or how warm his body felt next to you, throwing your thoughts in a frenzy.

You were thankful that he was talking about simple, mundane things, because you were having a hard time focusing on it. You felt like a stupid hormonal teenager sat next to him, stuck in your own head rather than the moment.

When the game ended at a brutal 3-0 against, you could not help but yawn.

“I should probably call it,” you said, glancing at the time on your phone.

He nodded, moving to sit up, rolling his shoulders with the softest groan that short-circuited your brain. He held his hand out to you and you took it, gathering your scattered thoughts, trying to remember to grab all your things.

“Let me walk you to your car.” He said, putting on his shoes.

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Well, I’m going to anyway. It’s late and your car is several blocks away.”

You grabbed your bag, cheeks heating, “Alright.”

Once outside, you absentmindedly looped your arm with his, his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. Neither of you spoke on it, his eyes only lingering on your face for a few short seconds. You enjoyed the warmth of his body, pressed into his side — the thoughts in your head momentarily quieting.

You felt like the walk to your car had been far too short as opposed to the walk to his place, and it took a moment to finally let go of him.

“Thank you for walking me.” You said, looking at him. “I had a good time tonight.”

“I did, too. Spontaneous. It was good.”

Nodding in agreement, you stepped toward your car. “I’ll let you know when I get home?”

“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you. “get home safe.”

You parted with a lingering goodbye.

—

It had only been a few days since you had heard from Michael, though that wasn’t uncommon. Part of you felt antsy about it — fingers itching to send him a message or call to check in on him. You felt foolish, a tiny part of your brain aching to connect with him. Every time the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it back down, desperate to discard it. He wasn’t looking for connection — that was the exact opposite of what he was looking for.

Sweetheart echoed in your head even now, the rough timber of his voice burrowing deep, making your heart flutter.

Huffing a long sigh, you focused back on your report, but your eyes seemed to look straight through the screen like it wasn’t even there.

When your phone buzzed, you quickly reached for it. You tried not to feel the disappointment flood through your system at the text from Marsi.

I had the worst day. Let’s go out tonight?

You pursed your lips, debating it. It surely would get your mind off a certain someone, and maybe even help you get your thoughts back on track.

Please

You sent back.

—

The bar was pretty busy. It had been a long time since you had been out on a Friday night. Marsi clearly had been through it, her numerical analytics presentation for her computer science masters had gone terribly when she had misunderstood a pretty large part of the project. She had the weekend to correct it — the professor not wanting to fail her.

But she had needed a night off, and you decided a night off would be good for you, too. It was nice. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Marsi ordered shots, downing hers as quickly as it came. You hesitated, staring at the clear liquid. You debated it, but then decided a shot and a drink wouldn’t throw off your weekend too much.

“Alright, you’re so off. Spill.”

Your eyes went wide, looking back to your friend. “What are you talking about?”

“That! That look right there.”

You pursed your lips and frowned, sipping your drink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is it a guy?” When she received no immediate answer, she continued, “Oh jeez, did he find out about that sugar daddy thing?”

“No! What? No, of course not.” Speaking quickly, you turned her eyes away from your friend, hoping she wouldn’t notice you flustering. “There’s no guy.”

Marsi did not look even slightly convinced, narrowing her eyes over her jack and ginger. “You suck at lying.”

Flustered, you tried to change the subject. “Did you catch the Penguins game last night?”

“What?” Marsi laughed, “Don’t try to change the subject!”

“There’s no guy.” You huffed, stressing your words.

She quirked an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you. Is it a taboo thing? Is it a co-worker?”

You tried to quiet your friend, hushing her. Give it to Marsi to see right through you. At least it’s not Erin, your mind commented.

“Professor?” Marsi shooed away your hands, “Jeez, stop that!”

“What? Ew, no!”

“Oh fuck.” Marsi said after a moment's realization. “Is it the sugar daddy?”

“No!” You protested quickly, too quickly, before adding with your nose scrunched and face ablaze, “Don’t call him that,”

Marsi groaned, “Jesus. Didn’t Erin warn you about that?”

You tried to collect yourself, taking a deep breath to steady your heart, your thoughts hazy from the questions. “Please don’t get it twisted. It’s not like that.”

Marsi gave an unconvinced hum, sipping her drink. “Do you wish it was?”

“I don’t—I—uhh—no!” You closed your eyes tight, leaning your head back trying to stifle your annoyed groan. You looked back at your friend, “No.”

Marsi was quiet, watching you closely.

“Look, I don’t want that. He’s nice. I enjoy talking with him, but that’s it. It’s not complicated like that.” You told her, gulping the last of your drink.

“Whatever you say,” Marsi waved off. “That guy across the bar has been eyeing you up for the last ten minutes. Maybe you should get laid.”

Your face burned, not even bothering to check. “I’m not into one-night stands.”

“I’m sure that’s the reason you haven’t looked.” Marsi said with a smirk.

You groaned in frustration. “Can you just drop it?”

“Sure, sure,” she sipped her drink. “You’re awfully flustered for it being something that’s not complicated.”

“Please.”

When you opened your eyes, Marsi was frowning at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

You sighed, “Thank you. I just don’t want a lecture right now.”

Marsi nodded, “You’re right, we came out to have fun! Let me tell you about this—”

Your phone buzzed on the bartop, Michael’s name lighting up your screen. Marsi’s eyes flickered from the tv above the bar to your phone to your face. She gave a wry grin.

Exasperated, ignoring the butterflies in your gut, you grabbed your phone. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

Marsi laughed, “I didn’t even say anything!”

You gave her a dry look, “I’ll be right back.”

You were out of your seat, moving quickly towards the entrance of the bar. Your heart picked back up, worry ebbing into your excitement. He never called this late without warning you first.

Not wanting to risk missing his call, you answered, “Hold on.” You moved out onto the sidewalk, moving until you were under the streetlight. “Hey.”

“Am I interrupting? I’m sorry—”

“No, no. Is everything alright?”

“I just wanted to—I thought—” Michael sighed. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Oh.”

“I shouldn’t have called, you’re clearly busy,”

“I want to talk to you, too.” You said, I wanted to talk to you all day went unspoken.

“Oh.”

You smiled gently, staring down at your feet, ‘I’m just not home yet. Can I call in like an hour?”

“Please do.”

—

“So…night out…uh, solo?” He asked after you greeted each other.

Was that jealousy in his tone? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah, one of my friends really needed it,” you explained, kicking off your shoes and moving into your bedroom. “She had a bad day.”

“Oh.”

“I’m glad to be home now,” You said, removing your dress, placing him on speaker. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging out with her. Just Friday nights out aren’t always my thing, not much anymore, anyway.”

“I get that,” he said, his tone raspy. “I wanted to check in about work. I know the last week has been stressful for you.”

You pulled a pajama top over your head. “Some of the new staff is picking up the slack, I just hope they don’t leave before I do.” You chuckled.

He let out a breathy laugh.

You crawled into your bed, stretching out with a long yawn. “Admin still up your ass?”

“More than usual, yeah.”

It did not take long into your conversation for the light snoring on the other end to start, indicating that Michael had fallen asleep. His soft breaths in and out brought a comfort to you, enjoying the simplicity of him. Instead of ending the call, you placed your phone on the nightstand next to your head.

Closing your eyes, you laid back on your pillow and went to sleep.

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jamiethebeeart · 7 months ago

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“But it’s not gay if he’s dead.” Danny’s head whipped around to stare down the street at two guys walking on the other side. He thought he was free of hearing that phrase ever again. Heart thudding in his ears, he crossed the street to tail these two guys. There was no way? Right? I mean Danny was something like 1,000 miles away from his hometown. There was no way two random guys in the big city of Gotham would’ve ever heard of –

“I don’t know man, it’s never been confirmed whether or not the “big guy” was actually… ya know?”

Danny seethed in frustration at the vague conversation. He stepped around a group of kids as he barely made the end of the crosswalk countdown.

“Nah, Red makes too many uncomfortable jokes about death to not have died.”

Danny sped up, weaving in between people to catch up before he lost the conversation in the din.

“It’s Gotham, we all make jokes about death.”

“Ya, but not like him. He seems to revel in them, like he actually kicked the bucket, permanent-like, not like those people who – I don’t know – cardiac arrest and are technically dead for a couple minutes until the EMTs get to them or whatever.”

A car puttered down the road – releasing a huge plume of exhaust in between Danny and the guys. Danny sighed, fully intending to return to his original path with the reassurance that they weren’t talking about Phantom. Then the next damned sentence came out of one of their mouths.

“Ok sure let’s say you’re right. Is it necrophilia if his body started decaying before coming back?”

‘Fuck it’ Danny thought as he turned back around. He had to see how this conversation ended – definitely not because the answer to that question kept him up night. Absolutely not. Call him a cat because he was just curious and not all at invested in the answer.

“Oh! Dude, shut the fuck up! Why would you – that’s disgusting! Are you kidding me!”

“Answer the question Mr. It’s Not Gay if He’s Dead – necrophiliac: yes or no?”

“No? Have you seen Red’s body? No way a dead guy could have muscles like that – I mean you gotta have working bodily functions right? To build muscles or whatever the fuck? Like have you seen his abs? Or, shit, just his arms - I mean swoon worthy, what I wouldn’t give to have him hold -”

“…….”

“- me…. What are ya looking at me like that for?”

“When, exactly, have you seen his abs.”

“Aaaah - that’s not the point –“

“Sure as hell hope that’s the point.” Red Hood stepped out of an alleyway they were walking past. Even with a helmet on, Danny swore the guy stared straight at him. He was so fucked getting caught listening in to this conversation – could he play it cool? Danny was cool right? Yeah, he could totally pull this off, act totally normal and keep walking. Hunching his shoulders some and turning his body away from the three men, he walked past. Or tried to. Red Hood caught the back of his shirt, stopping him from getting away. Unless Danny was willing to expose his powers to get out this situation, the best he could do was play dumb and hope Hood let him go without too much hassle.

“Boss!”

“Hey Boss – you didn’t happen to only hear the second half of that, did you?”

Red Hood growled, “the part about necrophilia or the part about my abs?”

Danny twisted his head back to see Goon #1 turn pale. “Uuuh – uh- um,” met Red Hood’s question.

A choreographed roll of the eyes, “Better question, why are you talking shit out on the streets and not paying attention to your little stalker,” Hood gestured to Danny.

“I’m not a stalker!” Danny huffed. His eyes widened. All three guys looked over at him. ‘SHIT’ Danny thought. He did not want to catch anyone’s attention more than he had, much less all three.

Goon No. 2 looked at him, as he resumed his squirming in Red Hood’s grasp, “So who are you?”

Danny glanced up to see Red Hood staring down at him. Today just wasn’t his day. “Hood,” Danny blurted out.

Silence. The tips of Danny’s ears turned bright red

“Uhm, I mean, a tourist?” “In Crime Alley, kid?”

"I'm not a kid," Danny muttered.

Hood shook Danny’s shirt hard enough to also shake Danny himself. “Try again. I’ve seen you around often enough to know that’s a lie.”

“It’s true!” Danny lied. “I was visiting the city, my wallet got pickpocketed with most of my money, so now I’m… kind of…. Stuck here? Indefinitely?”

Goon No. 1 laughed at him, “do ya think we’re dumb? You have a cellie right? No way you’re ‘stuck here’.”

“Exactly, so who do you work for? Penguin?” A jab towards Danny’s face. “Riddler?” Another jab and a step towards Danny. “Is it Two Face?” Another, even closer jab. Danny went cross-eyed looking at the finger in front of his nose.

“Back off,” Hood said. Danny breathed a sigh of relief at being given some space. And then the next words came out of Red Hood’s mouth, “Get lost you two – and stop gossiping on the street. And you-“ Hood turned back to Danny, “ – you’re coming with me.” Danny gulped. Today was going down as another shit day in the books for sure.

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #i think i covered my bases? any other tag variations i should know of?#danny fenton #red hood #a little silly one shot because ingifd is iconic. sorry for bringing it back up (not)#the bee writes #i /think/ we're still on the don't tag the individual fandoms... yea?

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vanteguccir · 8 months ago

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Can you do hc of nerd!matt and popular! reader sfw and nsfw 🙏🙏🙏🙏

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNERD X POPULAR * MATT STURNIOLO * HEADCANON

SUMMARY　::　a life with nerd!Matt and popular!Y/N.

FEATURING　nerd!Matt Sturniolo x popular!reader

WARNINGS　::　NFSW (mdni)

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

01. SFW　─　

── nerd!Matt who always had his nose buried in books, and never expected anyone to notice him.

── nerd!Matt who stayed behind after class, talking to the teacher about his favorite physics theories or latest computer coding project.

── nerd!Matt who was more than a little surprised when Y/N, the popular girl everyone adored, approached him.

── nerd!Matt who couldn't believe it when she kept coming back. Why would someone as popular and beautiful as Y/N want to hang out with a loser like him?

── nerd!Matt who thought that maybe it was some kind of joke, but as days passed, he realized that she really liked talking to him, listening to his rambles about the latest scientific discoveries or the plot of the new sci-fi novel he was engrossed in.

── nerd!Matt who would often pull Y/N into his arms no matter where they were, pressing soft kisses to her temple and murmuring how much he loved her, how pretty she was and how lucky he was to have her.

── nerd!Matt who was attentive, always noticing the little things, like when she had a rough day and needed some cheering up, or when she wore a new perfume.

── popular!Y/N who, on the other hand, was the more outgoing of the two, and loved spoiling Matt, buying him little gifts, like a new set of headphones or a rare comic book.

── nerd!Matt who would always blush, insisting she didn’t need to give him all of that, but she could see the joy in his eyes whenever he received something from her.

── nerd!Matt who would help Y/N with her assignments, patiently explaining concepts she didn’t understand. He had a knack for teaching, making even the most complicated topics seem simple.

── popular!Y/N who loved having coffee dates with him, sitting close to him, his voice soothing and steady as he told her about some random thing. He’d often get carried away, rambling on and on, and Y/N would just sit there, chin resting on her hand, listening to him with blown wide pupils.

── popular!Y/N who was always there for Matt, supporting him in his dreams, encouraging him to pursue his passions.

── popular!Y/N who would go out of her way to make his life easier, like bringing him his favorite snacks during late-night study sessions or surprising him with a coffee in the morning before classes.

── nerd!Matt who is totally obsessed with Y/N, and is always finding a way to bring her up in every conversation, gushing about everything she'd ever done, "oh, my girlfriend taught me this", "my girlfriend loves that music", "my girlfriend comes here all the time", "my girlfriend said...".

── nerd!Matt who's favorite thing to do is watching her cheerleader practice, and who has her whole schedule memorized and, during busy days, he always find a way to surprise her with her favorite snacks or only his presence.

── popular!Y/N who is always leaving short, sweet notes with little doodles and slips them into Matt's locker, always making sure to be close when he opens the door, only to see his cheeks turn into a bright red and his lips form a shy smile.

── nerd!Matt who, even though isn't into big parties or social gatherings, if Y/N wants to go to one, he shows up to support her, staying by her side and making sure she feels special.

── nerd!Matt who always find a way to meet her between classes and insists on carrying her bag and making sure she gets to her next one in time, even if he already has his many books on his hands and it causes him to get late to his next class.

02. NFSW　─　

── nerd!Matt who is incredibly shy and insecure before their first time. He had never been with anyone before Y/N, and he was terrified of messing things up.

── nerd!Matt who feels inadequate with his lack of experience, especially when he compares himself to Y/N’s previous relationships, turning him self-conscious about his body, not sure if he was attractive enough for her.

── popular!Y/N who was always patient with him and never pressured him into anything, always letting him set the pace.

── popular!Y/N who made sure he felt comfortable and safe when they had sex for the first time, being gentle and reassuring him with soft touches and kind words.

── popular!Y/N who always showed him how much she adored his body, kissing every inch of him, making him feel cherished and loved, melting away his insecurities, allowing him to relax and enjoy their moments together.

── nerd!Matt who, with time, became more confident, and started embracing his body.

── nerd!Matt who take his time to learn what Y/N liked, where to touch and how to do it and turn his girl in a brainless doll.

── nerd!Matt who maintains his shy, reserved demeanor in public, blushing whenever Y/N gets too close, but in the moment they're alone, it's like a switch flips.

── nerd!Matt who has full control over her, manhandling Y/N with firm hands and intense eyes, loving the way she melts under his touch.

── nerd!Matt who has his mind constantly filled with the most sinful thoughts about Y/N, it doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing; her naked and perfect little body is always there.

── nerd!Matt who, during classes, fantasizes about taking her right then and there, bend her over the teacher's table and make her moan his name as loud as she can, begging for more.

── nerd!Matt who is a pussy addicted, and makes Y/N sit on his face whenever they can, her thighs trembling on either side of his head as he eats her out like a starved man.

── nerd!Matt who gets off on the way that she grips his hair, pulling hard as he buries his tongue deep inside her.

── nerd!Matt who is always hard, just one glance at Y/N, and he’s already straining against his pants.

── nerd!Matt who is obsessed with her boobs, whether they're covered by a shirt or not. He can’t help but stare like a pervert, his thoughts immediately drifting to how they’d feel in his hands, how her nipples would harden under his touch.

── nerd!Matt who is vocal about his need for his girl, often whimpering and whining when he’s hard, telling her how much better it would feel if he were inside her, until he can convince her.

── nerd!Matt who can be so desperate, pressing his erection against her thigh or ass, whispering dirty things in her ear about how he wants to bury himself in her warm walls, to feel her clenching around him all day long.

── nerd!Matt who, at school, always finds secluded spots to pull her aside for a heated make-out session, getting out of there with his glasses foggy and his hair messy.

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sammigrll · 4 months ago

Note

thibking abt college frat boy bf Ron im spiraling he so fine i wont him🙁

frat house rules | ron weasley

warnings: underaged drinking, 18+ characters, it gets a little steamy

|an: yayyy this is a lot of plot kinda not enough dialogue but pt 2 ganna bc sm better & steamier i swearsiez this is also lowkey based on real events LOL

w.c: 1.2k

part one part two

“oorrrr…we could pregame here.” you said, finalizing the last few touches of your makeup, slight worry was laced within your words, evident to your best friend beside you, who was straightening her hair.

“yeah, OR we could drink with a bunch of hot frat boys surrounding us,” your friend said, looking at your face for a response, which she received in a worrisome facial expression. a large sigh from her filled the room before she spoke again, “c'mon, we need to get out there more. and the guy i’ve been talking to is actually really cool. i don’t think it’s one of those freaky frats.” she’d said, already up and changing into her clothes for the night with you following her lead.

“yeah, okay, well, i'm ready, so let’s just go.” slightly frustrated, you finished lacing your sneakers and huffed out in feigned annoyance. your friend, knowing you, smiled and rolled her eyes as you smiled back. although the thought of getting drunk with a bunch of random guys left you a little anxious, you were still excited to party with your best friend.

“it’s all a part of the college experience, babe. i’ll be right there with you, eevenn if my tongue is shoved halfway down dean thomas’ throat.” you felt your worries begin to subside as you let out a laugh at her statement while you both walked, arms linked, out the door.

“i’m telling you, ron, total BOMBSHELL! you’ll see when she gets here for the pregame…and i think she’s bringing a friend...” dean said as he looked at ron and raised a brow.

ron laughed and shoved his friend as let out a laugh, beginning to work on inserting a tap into their keg of beer.

“i don’t know, dean, i just got out of that weird situationship with lavender… i don’t want to seem like a man-whore or anything.. of that nature.” ron said, turning the tap clockwise into the insert until it was snug enough to his liking.

“you mean your snogstuaonship? come on, mate, i don’t think it was that serious.” dean said, chuckling and clapping ron on the shoulder, trying to convince his friend. the only response he received was an unsure look from ron.

“listen, man, offers on the table. i could set you up if you meet her, and if all goes well.” dean offered with a sympathetic smile, leaving ron to sit with his thoughts as he exited the room to join the other brothers in setting up for the party.

“i think i'm going to throw up.” you told your friend as you walked up the stairs to the door of the frat. anxiety bubbled in your stomach as you heard the music that was already blaring through the walls, but the lights were still on.

“you’re not gonna throw up.” your friend said, rolling her eyes in feigned annoyance, calling dean on the phone to let him know you guys were there.

you waited a few moments before the door swung open and the music, once muffled, was now damn near deafening.

“girls! come in.” dean said, moving to the side and staring only at your friend with the biggest fuck-me eyes you’d ever seen. it was going to be a long night for you, you could tell.

the pregame had gone well so far; you mostly kept to yourself and spoke only when spoken to, making light conversation as you stood in a group with your friend, dean, his friend ron, and two of their other brothers from their frat.

you were drunk, however not drunk enough to not realize how absolutely ridiculously hot dean's friend ron was. as a matter of fact, you thought the drunker you got, the easier it would be to talk to him.

little did you know that ron felt the same. when you and your friend walked in, he gawked at you a bit before elbowing dean and giving him a sly smile. elated, dean slapped him back before mouthing an ‘i told you so.’

ron stared at you in awe, feeling a bit nervous before shooting his shot in the form of pouring you all your shots. declaring himself as your ‘drinking buddy’ for the night and taking all of them with you. He decided it would be easier to make his move drunk off his ass as compared to stone-cold sober.

you and ron were getting along so well, feeling the liquor invading both of your senses; you started getting progressively touchier as you engaged in random conversations together that derived from topics the group mentioned, because he didn’t care about what everybody else had to say, he just wanted to know more about you.

then all of a sudden, the boys decide it’s time as people start pouring in from all openings of the frat. shutting the lights off and turning the music up just a bit louder, if that was even possible. your friend immediately grabs your hand, ripping you from ron and leading you to the dance floor.

as the night progresses, so do yours and ron’s drunken states, as you both start eye-fucking each other from the separate groups you’re in on the dance floor. feeling a warm heat pooling between your legs, as well as a surge of confidence, you decided it was time to make your move.

your move being making eye contact with him, then looking at the bathroom a couple feet away and cocking your head toward its direction. he got the memo and shot you a goofy grin, nodding his head in agreement.

you shuffle your way through the crowd and walk past him, stealthily grabbing his hand on the way, ripping him from his friend group, which went pretty unnoticed from his friends, and pull him into the bathroom.

“were you going to keep eye-fucking me all night or make a move?” you stated with a smile before he backed you up against the wall farthest from the door, slotting his hands under your arms and around your waist, pressing your hot bodies together.

“regardless, it seems like i got you right where i wanted you.” he said before connecting his lips with your own. you sighed into the kiss before bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers into his red head of hair; his grip on your waist tightened as you pulled slightly on the hair laced between your fingers.

eager for more, ron dragged his tongue along your plump bottom lip, asking for permission to elevate your kiss. you gladly let him in and let the heated kiss became messier as the sounds of smacking lips and moans filled the room.

ron pulled away for a moment to attach his hot, wet lips to your neck, licking, sucking, kissing, and biting at the flesh as you began to whine and work on the belt of his jeans.

knock knock knock

you both instantly froze in your positions. fear stilling your movements as you thought, ‘maybe they’ll go away if we stay really quiet.’

knock knock knock

“ron? you in there, man?” he heard seamus’ voice from the other end of the door. ron muttered a ‘fuck’ before remembering the rule that was introduced to him the day he was initiated.

“roonn, 10 minutes is up. you know the frat house rules, dude.” the smirk plastered on seamus’ face could be heard from behind the door.

frat house rules?

#harry potter #ron weasley #fanfic #ron weasley x reader #wizarding world #ron weasley x you #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley angst #ron weasley smut #seamus finnigan #dean thomas

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yuikomorii · 3 months ago

Text

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 2

// It’s time for the second chapter! This one focuses more on the conversations with other characters than on Ayayui interactions, but I’m really curious to see if anyone can guess who the second Diaboy to meet Yui will be. 👀

This story isn’t meant to be a harem or anything like that though, but all the Diaboys will meet Yui at some point. I hope you enjoy this chapter until the next one! 💖

Chapter 1

Place: Dorms

Ayato: Good night.

Laito: Nighty night~!

— Ayato enters his room —

Laito: ( Hmm… he seems unusually quiet. He hasn’t said a single word the entire way, which is so unlike him. )

( It’s as if something’s weighing on his mind, that he’s deliberately keeping to himself. )

( Something must have surely happened to him when he went outside, but why won’t he say anything? That’s weird… )

— stretches and yawns —

Anyway, there’s no point in overthinking it. As long as it doesn’t damage his and our reputation, it’s not worth worrying about.

Place: Ayato’s room

Ayato: ( Phew, I managed to slip into my bed without waking Shu up. )

( The last thing I needed was a lecture about sneaking off to the club as an idol and nearly getting caught. )

( Haa… what a mess. I really made a fool of myself today, didn’t I? )

( If it weren’t for that girl, I’d probably be in the hospital right now, all over the news for alcohol poisoning. )

( Man, that would’ve totally wrecked my career… )

???: Heh, where have you been?

Ayato: …!

( Was that—)

O-Oi, you’re not sleeping!?

Shu: I was until a certain someone tripped over the WI-FI cable and woke me up.

Ayato: ( Fuck! )

Shu: But whatever, I answered your question, so now it’s your turn to answer mine.

�� opens one eye and looks at him —

Ayato: ( Wait… I could just make something up and play it off as the truth! )

( Heh, exactly! There’s no way he’d be able to tell it’s a lie! )

Just practicing. I want to be the best version of myself for the next concert, y’know?

Shu: Hmm… I see.

And now, what’s the real answer?

Ayato: …!?

( How did he— )

Hah? W-What do you mean? I’m telling the truth!

— Shu opens both eyes and looks at him —

Shu: You went there, didn’t you?

Ayato: …!

( This guy… he can see through me! )

How the hell did you know that I went to the night club!?

Shu: Heh~? So I was right after all. You really did go there, huh?

Ayato: ( You… You fucking tricked me! )

Look, I know I’m not the best at keeping things together, but don’t tell Reiji! I beg you!

If the leader finds out, the staff will know, and once the CEO hears, I’m done! He’ll fire me in a heartbeat, no questions asked!

Shu: You’re overreacting. No idol is gonna get fired for just going to a night club.

Ayato: Man, you just don’t get it! It’s not just about going there— it’s what went down while I was there!

Shu: Oh? Now you’ve got me curious. What exactly happened?

— starts piping —

Ayato: ( Why do I keep getting myself in this!? )

( Haa… but I guess there’s no point in running away from my issues anymore. )

Basically, I was very tired and thought of over drinking to get my mind think of something else, but the alcohol and exhaustion made a really bad combination, so my chest started aching.

I went outside to get some air, but the pain just kept getting worse until this random chick found me and gave me her water bottle.

Shu: Wait… so you got caught?

Ayato: Luckily, no! As crazy as this sounds, she didn’t recognize me.

Heck, she even asked for my name after I called her a cab! But of course, I’m not that dumb. I knew it would have been way too risky to tell her my name.

( Honestly, I don’t even know why I was so anxious about it. In the end, everything worked out just fine, and I bet that girl will forget all about it in a few hours anyway. )

Shu: Hmm… you do realize that might have merely been an act, don’t you?

Ayato: Huh? What do you mean…?

Shu: Women are sly as foxes.

They’ll play all innocent and clueless, behaving like they have no idea what’s going on, but in reality, they’re just getting exactly what they want without anyone even realizing it.

Heh, it’s almost impressive how they pull it off.

Ayato: Wait… so you mean that girl knew who I was and only pretended not to so as to stalk me? But if that’s the case, then——

Shu: Haa… no need to scream, it’s almost 3 in the morning.

I’m not saying she’s a stalker, but you should probably be more cautious.

You know how fangirls are. If they see you talking to any girl that’s not them, they’ll lose it. Better to just watch out and avoid any unnecessary trouble.

— closes eyes again —

Not just for you, but for everyone else around too.

Ayato’s monologue

Shu’s right. I need to step up my game and start taking this job more seriously.

Being an idol isn’t just a paycheck; it’s a responsibility that goes far beyond me.

Every choice I make carries weight, and not just for my future, but for the company’s and everyone I work with.

Yeah… Exactly. If I let my career fall apart, it’s not only me who’ll feel it— the whole team, every project, and all the hard work we’ve put into this place will take a hit as well.

That’s why, from now on, I’m done making stupid decisions that could mess everything up. My focus is on my idol activities and nothing else.

I should have realized from the moment I signed the contract that living like a normal teenager just isn’t part of the deal anymore.

*Timeskip*

Place: Hotel kitchen

Yui: ( Working here is surprisingly relaxing. Not only that, but the co-workers I met seem very nice too! )

( I’m really excited to put my cooking skills to good use. From what I remember, this hotel has a great reputation, therefore it’s truly amazing to learn from such experienced professionals. )

???: Noooo!!!

Yui: …!?

( It’s coming from the storeroom! )

— quickly opens it —

???: ….!

Yui: Hana-san!

I-I heard you scream, are you alright?

Hana: Wa—… Was I really that loud? This is so embarrassing… I’m so sorry!

— covers face with hands —

Yui: Ah, there’s no need to worry about that, it’s fine.

More importantly, what happened? Did something scare you?

Hana: No, I’m not scared, more like… disappointed.

In case you haven’t heard already, the SAKAMAKIS are filming a special episode for their YouTube channel at three different locations, and guess what? My two favorite members are coming to this hotel in 4 days, but the issue is... it’s happening right when I’m not on shift…!

— starts crying —

On top of that, I promised my sister I’d visit her in Fukuoka, since we'll both be off work at the same time, which means that there’s absolutely no way I can meet them now!

This is such terrible timing…!

Yui: ( SAKAMAKIS… Based on Hana-san’s intense reaction, they must be some sort of important public figures, no? )

Oww… it does sound unfortunate, but you shouldn’t give up hope completely. After all, you live in Japan, so I’m sure there’s always a chance you’ll get to meet them!

Hana: It’s not as easy as you say…

They will return to Korea soon, and who knows when they’ll promote in Japan again? This was my only opportunity to see them outside of the concerts… and I couldn’t even manage to get any decent seats there.

— pouts —

Yui: ( Wait, did she say ‘concerts’? )

Ohh, I see. So they’re idols!

Hana: Eh? You… You actually don’t know the SAKAMAKIS—!?

Yui: W-Well… I’m sorry, the name doesn't really ring a bell, and to be honest, I can’t say I’m familiar with the idol world in general.

Hana: But come on, you must have at least seen their faces before, right?

— shows her a picture of them —

Yui: ( Will she be let down again if I say ‘no’? )

( Hmm… But truth be told, these boys are undeniably good-looking, and it’s clear that they must be hardworking as well, considering how they manage to juggle such hectic schedules. )

( I can easily see why they’ve captured the hearts of such passionate fans. )

— eyes suddenly widen —

( The red-haired one——! )

— blushes —

Hana: So, who did steal Yui-san’s heart~?

Yui: Ah, n-nobody…!

— gets embarrassed —

It’s just that the boy in middle… he got an incredibly well-featured face. I don’t know how to put it into words, but he simply appears unreal.

( To think that a human could look like this… it makes me a bit envious. His eyes and face shape are especially pretty. )

— Hana starts laughing —

Yui: ( Eh? Did I say something wrong? )

Hana: Get in line, that’s Ayato-san!

Hmph… just the thought of not being able to see his tiny, perfect face up close makes my heart ache.

Yui: ( Hana-san… she really seems to love this group a lot. )

( I can't help but think that if I were in her shoes, I'd feel hurt too not being able to see someone I admire so much… )

Hey, Hana-san… I know it’s not exactly the same as having it personally from him, but if it’s possible, I’d be more than willing to ask Ayato-san for an autograph on your behalf!

Hana: Eh—? Would you really do that for me!?

Yui-san, you are the best!

— hugs her —

Yui: I-It’s nothing, really.

Hana: Wait a little—! Now that I think about it, you could also totally grab a photo with them! Isn’t that wonderful?

( I can’t believe it! This way I’ll be just one person away from Ayato-san! )

Yui: Uuh… I’m sure it’d be a nice memory to look back on, but wouldn’t it bother you if I did? After all, you’ve been their loyal fan all this time, not me.

Besides, there’s no guarantee that they would agree to take a picture with an ordinary person such as myself.

Hana: That doesn’t matter, silly! They’re super chill with their fans, and everyone says they never turn down a picture request— unless they’re busy, of course. There’s no way they’d refuse you, especially not in a setting like this.

You also mentioned being captivated by Ayato-san’s visuals, so fan or not, I think anyone would jump at the chance to take a picture with such a fine man~!

Yui’s monologue

Hana-san and I continued to talk about it for a while, and during our conversation, she suggested a few of their songs for me to listen to on my way back to the Airbnb.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I played each one, I was pleasantly surprised.

While I’m still not very knowledgeable about this group, the melodies, the lyrics, and even the energy in their performances were captivating in a way I hadn’t expected.

That Ayato boy… he seems like someone who was born to be on stage. Such charisma and beauty… It really makes me wonder how he acts off-cameras.

Hana-san has clearly supported the SAKAMAKIS for such a long time, and to finally get the chance to meet them, only to have it slip through her fingers, must be heartbreaking.

A part of me can’t shake the feeling of guilt, even though I know very well that it wasn’t my or anyone’s fault.

It might not be a fair comparison, I know, but it reminded me of the boy I met yesterday.

He has probably forgotten about me already, but just like Hana-san dreams of meeting her idols, I find myself wishing to meet him again.

Author’s note:

* In case you're wondering why Ayato is sharing a room with Shu and not Laito, many companies assign roommates to idols randomly. The idea is that idols are supposed to get along with everyone, so the arrangement is made to promote harmony and teamwork, regardless of personal preferences.

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #ayato sakamaki #dialovers #ayato x yui #ayayui #admin #my fanfic

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thepixelelf · 7 months ago

Text

superhero cheol x tech whiz reader warnings: coarse language. food. wc: 1.0k

[anonymous nights] As Seungcheol ducked behind the world’s most disgusting, foul-smelling, gag-inducing dumpster, he thought this was perhaps — no, definitely — the worst idea you’d ever had. His full-head mask was starting to itch, and he felt stupid in his suit sneaking through alleys and hiding behind trash cans.

“Remind me again why I’m following this random ass dude instead of Seo Jewon? What happened to catching the city’s ‘fourth most dangerous villain’?”

A bit of static tickled Seungcheol’s ear through the communication device implanted in his suit, which he knew meant you were getting further and further away the more he pursued the target. He had no idea where you parked your small van, aside from knowing it was somewhere in the city — a precaution put in place so Seungcheol would never be able to give away your location. Or, more accurately, so he wouldn’t risk losing the petabytes of information you’d collected over the years.

“Seo Jewon was a total red herring, this is our real guy,” you said through his earpiece.

The man he was following kept walking, and Seungcheol almost thanked him because he had to get away from whatever was polluting that dumpster. “And you know that because…?”

“Hey, who’s the brains of this operation?” You sounded slightly garbled, but Seungcheol could hear your mouse clicking in the background. “That’s right, me.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

“I can feel you rolling your eyes, Solar Flare.”

Okay, maybe not.

“How do you always do that?”

He could hear your smile through the device. Maybe it wasn’t so hard. “I told you. Brains.” You tapped your mic twice, and Seungcheol winced at the plosive sound. He was about to complain when you spoke again. “Eyes up, Solar, you’re losing him.”

Glancing around, Seungcheol realized he did, in fact, lose track of the target, and he cursed under his breath. He heard you holding back laughter before you muted yourself. Picking up the pace and getting heavier on his feet, Seungcheol searched for your supposed ‘true villain’. Your silence only spurred him on; he knew you were making fun of him in your head.

You’d been assigned to him about a year ago, a decision made by the higher-ups because Seungcheol was apparently “too much of a handful” with his fiery powers (plus an equally fiery attitude), and you were the prodigious tech newbie they could force into working with him. Little did they know, spending too much time with him made you just as annoying. Hence why you and him were out tonight, chasing a completely new suspect instead of the one the bosses sent you after.

“Check your two o’clock.”

Seungcheol slipped into another alleyway, sticking close to the walls, though a load of good that did. “You know,” he said, a little breathless from his efforts to catch up to the target, “it might be a bit easier for me to tail this guy if I wasn’t dressed like Guy Fieri.”

“Hey, I didn’t design the suit, I just built it.” Your words sounded weird again. “Blame the fashion department, not me.”

“Okay, one, we don’t have a fashion department, and two, are eating cup fucking ramen right now?”

He could hear you slurping noodles up. “What? I can’t have dinner and save the city at the same time?”

“Dinner?! It’s like one in the morning!”

“I'm a busy sidekick.”

“You are not my sidekick.”

You snorted into the mic, an undignified sound you never held back from making when it was just you and Seungcheol. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. Tell me you at least had breakfast.” The line went silent, and Seungcheol cursed again. “You’re a hazard.”

Seungcheol could feel your greasy smile through the comm as you cooed. “I’m your hazard, Solar Flare.”

After working together for almost a year, you still hadn’t called Seungcheol by his name. You said it was “keeping things professional”, but Seungcheol was pretty sure you just liked to tease him. Before you, no one had ever made jokes about his destructive superpowers. In fact, most people stayed away from him as much as possible. Then you came along and started saying he was your personal barbecue grill or space heater, never once afraid of his tendency to catch things on fire.

Seungcheol never told you how much he appreciated that.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“You lost him again.”

“God damn it.”

Seungcheol spent the next twenty minutes tailing your suspect through the city with you piping in every few turns, letting him know what he couldn’t see. He was beginning to think this was stupid. Of course this guy wasn’t the culprit, you must have been wrong — it wasn’t like you’d never been wrong before.

But then the guy turned a corner where almost no one ever went. He walked through another totally gross alley and went down some rusted outdoor basement stairs, glancing around. Almost like he didn’t want to be followed. Seungcheol silently pleaded it wasn’t what it looked like. (Though he probably shouldn’t have, considering this meant he was about to catch the bad guy.)

After the man entered the door, Seungcheol walked up to it, peering through the tiny barred window. He couldn’t see anything, so he opened the door just a crack and stepped through as quietly as he could. A dark hallway was all that greeted him, but down it, he could hear angry voices going at each other over something he couldn’t quite make out. Peeking out of the hallway, Seungcheol immediately retracted when he saw everything. A bunch of men and piles and piles of… well he didn’t know exactly what, but it didn’t look good.

“I fucking knew it!” you cheered through his earpiece. You must’ve already taken a picture during the millisecond Seungcheol had poked his head out and scanned it. “Alright, I’m calling backup.”

“What’s our cover story tonight? That I just so happened to stumble across the city’s fourth most dangerous secret lair?”

You clacked away at your keyboard. “No cover story this time. I found this guy fair and square.”

part 2 | part 3

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 5 months ago

Note

Hoping that this isn't weird but IMAGINE Vox having everything, fame, money, power, but he loses the one thing he treasures the most on extermination day– his family. Like imagine if Vox and his pregnant wife had this hugee argument before extermination day causing her to storm out of the tower, but he didn't chase her cause it was just probably the hormones and she'd come back. But she didn't manage to come back in time. So Vox had to wait in the tower cause he couldn't go out and pray that she was okay. After the extermination, he of course went ballistic trying to find her, jumping from camera to camera until he found her corpse in some random dark alley. What would be the aftermath? I HOPE THIS ISNT WEIRD I JUST CRAVEE ANGST ‼️‼️😭

A/N — I rewrote this a total of four times 😭 I hope this satisfies your need for angst, my lovely anon. This is the one my sister finally approved for everyone to see. Poor kid hates reading my fanfic and she's been subjected to being my conscience while I wrote this. I had to bribe her with coffee and a 20 piece nugget from McDonald's to get her to read more than a paragraph 😭

Fade To Black

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, Fem!Reader, loss of wife + child, Vox in denial, got kinda dark with the implications at the end(?), Alastor is mentioned a few times. Guys, I'm literally so sorry

Word Count: 1.2K

“You're not listening to me!” You reiterated for what felt like the billionth time, your gaze momentarily darting to the small curve of your stomach where one of your hands rested securely, the other on your hip.

Vox sighed, exasperated. “Listen, Doll, I'm hearing what you're saying and—”

“—That's exactly the problem! You're hearing what I'm saying but you're not actually listening to me, Vox! For Hell's sake, step away from your work and weird obsession with the Radio Demon for two seconds and focus on what's important!”

The words felt like knives as you spoke them, each one spearing the air of the penthouse. The room fell silent. The other vees were no stranger to the arguments that broke out, hell, they were a part of most of them. . . But not this one. . . Vox stiffened and squared his shoulders.

“My work is important. My work is what allows us to live the afterlife we do.” He said, his tone firm, almost condescending.

“And what about your obsession, huh? Watching the rinky-dink hotel cameras in your office after hours for a glimpse of that antlered little freak who doesn't give a shit about you — when you should be home, here, with me?”

You waited for an answer, yet Vox only stared at you. It was painfully clear that he didn't know what to say. “Lucifer's tits — fuck you!” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air, showing just how done you were with all of this.

The next moment, you were turning on your heel and storming out of the room.

Vox only scoffed and dropped onto the couch, watching as you walked away. Hormones. He thought to himself. It had to be.

He'd never seen you so worked up about his late nights at the office. Never seen you so angry when referencing Alastor, who had once been a good friend and mentor to you.

Hormones. It was the only logical explanation, right?

He let you go, knowing you needed your space. . . Knowing you'd come home once you cleared your head and had just enough patience to once again approach the topic with a semi-level head, likely once the extermination was over.

You knew the moment you cleared the doors of the tower that you had likely overreacted. The hot, dry air of Hell against your skin seemed to bring the realization to the forefront of your mind.

Yet it was pride and stubbornness that kept you from turning back to the tower, rather storming through the desolate back alleyways, a metaphorical thundercloud looming over your head.

Vox hadn't followed you, and you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of going back. You loved him, and you knew he loved you too — as shocking as it was that the two of you found genuine love in Hell.

As much as you loved him, he infuriated you, even more so now that you were carrying his child. . .

The carnage of Extermination Day met your ears and your steps faltered, drawing you to a stop as your instincts then screamed at you to go home. To go where it was safe.

Safe.

Safe at Vox's side. At home. . .

How could you have forgotten what day it was? The anger. It had to have been the reason for your lapse in memory. . . So you began heading back towards the tower.

Pride and stubbornness be damned.

Sticking to the shadows, you ventured forward towards the net of safety that you so desperately needed.

So close, yet so far.

Too far.

It'd been too long.

You'd been gone too long.

The moment Extermination Day had been declared finished, Vox was out looking for you. Every camera on every street he could possibly reach.

Every sinner he found dead and dying in the streets, he hoped he wouldn't see your face. Your beautiful face. . . The thought alone made something twist in his gut like a double edged blade — fear, he recognized.

Pure unbridled fear.

Fear of losing you. Fear of losing the two most important beings in his entire afterlife.

He searched for what seemed like forever, until he caught a glimpse of you in an alleyway, almost entirely hidden from view. He easily recognized your clothes you had been wearing that day and your hair — oh, how he loved that hair.

Relief flooded him as he rushed towards you, though it disappeared, his heart plummeting as he dropped to his knees.

“Hey, Doll, wake up. . . It's okay, it's over.” He said, his voice shaky as his hands came up to either side of your face.

“You did good. . . You played dead so you could survive. They're gone now — you can open your eyes, Doll. . . Please open your eyes. . .” He begged softly, his touch and voice becoming more frantic.

“No, no, no, open your eyes for me, okay? I know you're mad at me, Doll, I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . . Wake up. . .” He pulled your body closer to his, clutching you close. One hand held the back of your head to his chest, the other trailed down to your stomach.

Too many emotions clawed at him as he begged you to wake up, to give up the charade. . . He made promises to make it up to you. He'd spend more time at home with you. He'd give up on his obsession with Alastor. He'd do it. He would do it for you. . .

But it was too late. . . The blood that soaked your clothes and his was a chilling reminder. . . The all powerful TV Demon choked out a sob as your skin turned cold beneath his hands.

His world stopped spinning, the axis snapping and floating off into the abyss as he held you close. . . He wasn't used to feeling your skin cold. He was used to the warmth, the life, the light that came from you.

He couldn't feel you.

And it killed him.

He couldn't breathe. His chest ached. Nothing in all of Hell mattered more than you. More than the child that had been created out of love and the use of a loophole within Hell's complex laws of nature.

And now it had been ripped away from him. He hated himself. He was angry.

It felt as if the light and warmth had been sucked out of his universe, leaving nothing but cold darkness that seeped into his very soul, gnawing at him, tearing him apart from the inside out.

He could hardly remember his afterlife before you. Now, facing a reality where he'd have to live in an afterlife without you. . . It consumed him in all the wrong ways. . .

He wanted you back.

He needed you back.

Yet the darkness that gnawed and clawed at his entire being, the absence of you — your light that was supposed to guide him through this perpetual landscape of flame and rot for all eternity. . . The shadows remained like a constant reminder, a plague of its own, slowly eating away at him at every opportunity.

Without your light, he was nothing.

Without your laugh, he was nothing.

Without your attitude, he was nothing.

Without your warmth, he was nothing.

Nothing more than a shell of the overlord he used to be. . . And when the shadows clawed at his mind like a beast seeking a debt to be paid, he let them win.

He let it all fade to black.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #x reader #fem reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox imagine #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox the tv demon #tv demon #tv daddy #vox the tv daddy

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persevereforahappyending · 2 years ago

Text

He Hung Up (2)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: “I took that phone call for you.” You turned to Sam, once again offended. So much for her warming up to you after that, now she suspected you of being a serial killer.

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 4.2k+

Note: I tried doing a one shot, but I've never been good at those so here's a part 2. Third and final part is also planned.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Suspects!” Mindy shouted, causing all of you to look up at her as she stood before everyone as if she was on center stage.

Everyone gathered together on campus before their classes and before Sam had to go to work. Quinn, Anika, and Sam all sat on a bench together while Chad, you, Tara, and Ethan sat on the other bench.

Chad had a pen and notebook out ready to jot down notes as soon as Mindy started talking. Tara was leaning into your side with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. Ethan was sitting next to you looking up at Mindy like a clueless puppy.

You had started out listening to Mindy, but she kept mentioning sequels and requels and eventually you just tuned her out. You got into your head when she mentioned being in a franchise, you couldn’t help but think about all the potential ways Ghostface was totally going to kill you. You didn’t zone back in until she mentioned Tara and Sam being on the potential chopping block.

You didn’t want to die but there was no way in hell you were ever letting someone hurt Tara again. You’d seen her scars; she told you what happened. It had taken a while for her to get comfortable enough, but you woke up one night to her thrashing around in bed. When you got her to calm down, you just held her, and she told you all about Amber.

“Y/N,” Mindy said, clapping her hands together as she looked at you. Your eyes snapped to Mindy, thoroughly being pulled out of your worrying thoughts for Tara at the accusation you could be the killer.

“Hey!” you said, raising both your hands in offense. Tara smiled up at you, laying her head on your shoulder.

“Good! Never trust the love interest,” Sam said, nodding along with what Mindy said.

“I took that phone call for you.” You turned to Sam, once again offended. So much for her warming up to you after that, now she suspected you of being a serial killer.

“Oh please, it could have all been an act. Who would be stupid enough to antagonize Ghostface?” Sam raised a brow, waiting to hear what excuse you could possibly have.

“Me!” You leaned forward, jostling Tara enough to lift her head off your shoulder.

“Babe-” Tara started, leaning away from you just enough to look at you.

“I would certainly be stupid enough!” You continued, ignoring whatever Tara was about to say.

Everyone fell silent after that. Sam raised her eyebrows at you. You stared at her for a second before furrowing your brow, you glanced down at the ground, finally realizing what you just said. Tara patted your leg, giving it a comforting rub.

You sat there pouting, vaguely aware of Mindy going on and on about Quinn, Ethan, and her own girlfriend Anika being suspects as well. The others tried making an argument in their defense, none more than Ethan who tried deflecting suspicions on to the core four, specifically Sam.

You didn’t think any of the core four were the killers. It didn’t make sense. Despite all the stuff that was being said online about Sam there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she was innocent. Tara fought with her sister all the time, but she adored her. Even the previous night while they were arguing Tara didn’t hesitate to jump in and defend her sister, ready to attack that girl who threw her drink on Sam.

When you and Tara first started hanging out anytime someone would question her about Sam or anytime, she’d see something negative online she’d get all angry and defensive. She would rant for several minutes about how those random ass people didn’t know what they were talking about. You would just sit and listen to her. It wasn’t your place to judge, you weren’t there, you didn’t see how everything went down. The only things you knew for sure was that everyone who was there agreed on what happened, Amber and Richie were psycho and Sam was a fucking hero.

Despite her not liking you, you had also gotten to know Sam since you started dating Tara. Sam didn’t share anything with you but based on the way Mindy and Chad admired her you knew she was cool. Then based on the way Tara would come over to your place for a break from her sister and just rant nonstop for over an hour, told you that though she was incredibly overprotective, she loved her sister more than anything, she loved all her friends, she just wanted them to be safe. After what happened to all of them you couldn’t blame her for being a tad overprotective.

“Should you really be telling us your suspects with us here?” you asked, interrupting whatever Mindy was still ranting about. Everyone fell silent, turning to look at you. “If you think one of us,” you pointed to yourself and Ethan then Quinn and Anika, “is the killer then why are you tell us you suspect us?”

Mindy didn’t say anything, opting to narrow her eyes at you. You leaned back against the bench, your arm still draped over Tara. You gave a small shrug, trying not to disturb Tara again. “I’m just sayin. If I’m the killer, then me knowing you suspect me would only help me.” You squinted your eyes, thinking to yourself to make sure that made sense. Sometimes you started speaking before your brain had time to process what you wanted to say.

“She’s got a point,” Chad said, nodding along and pointing his pen at you.

Everyone seemed to reluctantly nod, even Sam.

“I don’t think it’s Y/N,” Tara said. She lifted her head, leaning back, turning to give you a quick kiss. “She’d never hurt me.”

Sam scoffed. Tara threw a glare at her on your behalf. Sam quickly turned her scoff into a cough, clearing her throat.

“That’s what you thought about Amber,” Mindy pointed out. “And look how that turned out.”

Sam tilted her head glaring at Mindy. Chad looked up at his sister, his eyes wide as he shook his head. There was a lot you didn’t know but you knew what Mindy just said crossed one of their unspoken lines. Mindy at least had the audacity to look a little guilty when you flicked a glare at her.

Tara remained quiet. You felt her tense next to you the second Mindy had said the name Amber. You looked down at her concerned, you couldn’t help the hurt the flashed in your eyes when Tara just barely leaned away from you.

You couldn’t even blame Tara. You knew you’d never hurt her, that you’d do anything to keep her safe, but she couldn’t know that. Even after all you’d been through there was a part of her that would probably always doubt you because of what happened. You hated that. You hated that someone she trusted hurt her and betrayed her so bad she now had to question ever new relationship in her life, she had to worry if the next person she met would do the same thing.

You tried to hide the hurt, going back to listening to Mindy conclude her final suspects and franchise thoughts. Tara noticed though. You caught the same sadness in her eyes as she realized she had subconsciously leaned away from you. She slowly leaned back into you. You wanted to tighten your grip on her, comfort her in any way you could, but you didn’t, you weren’t sure if any sort of movement would cause her to pull away again.

When Mindy finally finished, everyone went their separate ways, leaving you, Tara, and Sam. You took a step back, suddenly finding the trees around you very interesting while Tara said goodbye to her sister.

“I’ll see you when I get home from work,” Sam said.

Tara nodded. “Yeah, we’ll all make our way over right after classes end,” Tara said, repeating the plan Sam had all made them agree to.

Sam flicked her gaze up to you for a second then back to Tara. “Be safe.” Sam pulled Tara into a hug who seemed reluctant at first but quickly reciprocated. When she pulled away, she looked at you one more time before finally running off to work.

“Soooo,” you drew out. Your hands were in your pockets, and you kept your eyes on the concrete. “What-”

“I’m sorry,” Tara cut you off.

You scrunched up your brow, lifting your head to look at her. “For what?”

“For how I reacted when Mindy mentioned,” it was Tara’s turn to suddenly find the concrete interesting. “You know who.”

“Don’t apologize for that.” Your eyes softened, taking a cautious step forward. “You can’t help how it makes you feel and your feelings on it are fully warranted.”

“I know. I just…” Tara took a deep breath, letting out a long exhale as she rubbed her temple. “I know you aren’t her.”

“Obviously, I mean I am one of a kind,” you joked, giving her a little smirk.

Your plan worked, Tara giggled, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Shut up.”

“So, what do you want to do for the day?” You finally got finish asking what you intended. “Since our professor’s untimely demise last night our class is cancelled today. Your sister is at work, your friends are all in class, and our next class isn’t until this afternoon.” You gave her a mischievous smile.

Tara returned the same smile. “Whatever will we do with this rare freedom?” she asked, taking your hand in her own as she began leading you down the stone path.

“Was thinking we could go back to my dorm.” You smiled innocently at her, “My roommate isn’t there.”

Tara didn’t say yes right away. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it. She got that adorable crinkle in her brow when she thought hard about something. You were smiling at how cute she looked until you realized why she was giving it so much though then you frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea,” you quickly said. “I’m literally one of your guy’s suspects and even if you don’t fully believe I’m the killer, me asking you back to my dorm alone is a stupid idea.” You were mentally kicking yourself for thinking that was a good idea. “We can go to the library or the cafeteria or chill in the quad, I’ll be happy with whatever.” You smiled, then quickly frowned again. “Unless you don’t want to be alone with me. Which I can understand, I guess,” you pouted. “I’m not the killer but I get that you don’t know that and can’t know that for sure and-”

Tara grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. Your previous rambling dying as you happily returned the kiss. You smiled into the kiss, it was simple, soft, and you could feel all of Tara’s love for you in it. It was your favorite type of kisses from her. When she finally pulled away you were left smiling at her like a lovestruck idiot even after months of dating.

“I would love to go back to your dorm,” Tara said softly. She was already pulling you in the direction of your dorm.

“Are you sure?” You asked again. You needed her to be sure, you wanted to make sure she was actually comfortable enough with being alone with you.

“Yes,” Tara said confidently. “I don’t think you’re the killer. I trust you.”

You smiled softly at Tara and pulled her in for another kiss. This girl who had been hurt and betrayed by her best friend, her girlfriend, the person she should have been able to trust the most, believed you weren’t going to hurt her. You couldn’t believe it. Sure, you weren’t the killer, but you couldn’t believe that Tara trusted you so much that she didn’t doubt you, that she knew you would never hurt her.

“Let’s go,” she whispered against your lips when you guys finally pulled away again.

You nodded and let her drag you to your dorm room. When you got there you happily unlocked it, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter. You weren’t necessarily rich, but your family was like Tara’s, your parents made decent enough money. Which is how you ended up in one of the nicer dorm rooms, with a small kitchen, living room, full bath, and two bedrooms. Your parents were great, not always around but they were okay, which is why they tried to compensate by making sure you were comfortable wherever you were.

“So, did you want to watch a movie or…” you trailed off, looking to Tara for suggestions.

“I didn’t really have a movie in mind,” she said.

Before you could ask what, she wanted to do she was marching up to you, pushing you so you fell down onto the couch. You were leaned back in a sitting position when she kneeled on the couch, straddling your lap. She wasted no time and gave you no room to say anything else before her lips were on yours again.

“Okay, this works for me too,” you whispered when you guys finally broke apart for a breath. She shook her head smiling at you before kissing you again. You ran your hands up her back, sliding them underneath her shirt. She lifted her arms, getting ready for you to slide her shirt off when your phone rang.

“Ignore it,” she said in between kisses.

She was kissing down your neck as you shifted, trying to disturb her placement on top of you as little as possible. She turned your head towards her, kissing you again, trying her best to distract you from whoever was calling you. When she trailed her kisses down your neck again you looked at your phone, furrowing your brow at the caller ID.

“What? Who is it?” Tara asked, sitting up straighter but refusing to remove herself from your lap. You turned the screen towards her. Her name was on the screen. She shot off your lap, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the phone. “Don’t answer it.” Her voice shaking, her previous confidence thrown out the window.

You cleared your throat before hitting the green button and bringing the phone up to your ear. “Hello, this is Y/N, how may I be of assistance,” you said in the best customer service voice you could muster up.

“Hello, Y/N,” the crackling of someone using a voice changer came through the phone. “You wanted my attention so bad last night I decided to give it to you.”

“That is so sweet, I do have a desperate need for attention.” You started to pace back and forth, making sure to keep your eyes on Tara, needing to know she was okay. “I’ll never ask for attention cause I don’t want to be inconvenient and come off as needy but oh do I so crave attention.”

“I’ve gathered. Based on your constant need of approval even when doing the simplest things, such as cooking dinner.”

You pouted. “Fuck you.”

“Do you think it has something to do with your parents never being there for sporting events or award shows?”

“Doctor Carter?” you asked. Tara tilted her head at your confused expression.

“No this isn’t your therapist,” Ghostface sighed. “Your abandonment issues and constant need to be validated that you’re good enough are just so textbook.”

“You’re being quite hurtful this morning. I had much more fun with our conversation last night.”

“Aww, I’m sorry.” You could hear Ghostface’s fake sympathy through the voice changer. “Let me make it up to you. Let’s play a game.”

“How about Monopoly?” You smiled brightly at the idea of getting to play your favorite game. You looked at your girlfriend who rolled her eyes despite the terror she was clearly feeling. You frowned, she never wanted to play Monopoly with you.

“Nobody likes Monopoly.” You could feel the annoyed deadpanned look in through the phone. “It’s to long, no one has time for that.”

“The only people who don’t like Monopoly are the ones who lose. Also,” you spun around on your heel. “You’re literally planning murders and dressing up like a serial killer and setting up what you refer to as a game, that usually takes months if not years to plan and then is executed over a couple days. Talk about excessive.

“I hate Monopoly,” he said, ignoring the rest of your statement. You took his silence on the matter to mean you were right and he had nothing to argue against it.

“Sounds like something a loser would say,” you continued to taunt Ghostface, regaining some of that confidence from the previous night. “Is that why you’re doing this?” you looked up in thought, as if you just had a revelation. “You decided to copy someone else’s game in the hopes you could finally win something?”

“Shut up!” Ghost face growled. You smirked; you knew you were getting to him. “This is my game! I am the mastermind here!”

“I’m pretty sure that was Billy Loomis,” you interrupted. “No, wait,” you paused thinking for a second. “Roman Bridger was technically the original mastermind behind it all, you all are just cheap knockoffs of his game.”

“They could never comprehend the level of complexity of my game!”

You snorted, not able to hold in your laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Jill Roberts?” you asked through your laughter. “Who is my favorite Ghostface by the way.” You got lost in thought thinking about Jill. “Man, who doesn’t love a manipulative psychopath.” You shook your head, still thinking about her when you noticed Tara somehow glaring at you and giving you a concerned look. “What?” you shrugged.

“Listen here you bitch!” your attention snapped back to the phone; you had forgotten Ghostface was trying to threaten you. “Billy, Roman, Stu, whatever! None of them matter! They will all be forgotten when I’m through.”

“Oof,” you let out a sigh. “Someone clearly has daddy issues. Is that it? Daddy didn’t love you enough?”

“You wanted a brutal death, I promise you I will deliver,” Ghost face said, you could hear him taking calming breaths though they sounded crackly with the voice changer. “Now, back to our original scheduled program, what’s your favorite scary movie?”

You rolled your eyes, these guys always had the same script, couldn’t they each come up with something new and different? You had seen the Stab movies and you read all the articles about the real-life events, but they always played out the same. You just wanted someone to surprise you for once, shake things up a bit.

“Ready or Not,” you said without hesitation. Since he was so insistent you figured you might as well play along. You still would’ve rather played Monopoly, no one ever wanted to play Monopoly with you.

“Really?” he snorted.

“Okay judgy,” you held up your hand in offense. “First, it’s a great movie. Second, Samara Weaving in a wedding dress with a shotgun. What’s not to love?” You turned to Tara for support. She seemed reluctant but she shrugged, nodding in agreement with you.

“I see why Samantha hates you,” Ghostface changed the subject.

“Sam doesn’t hate me,” you tried defending. Looked at Tara who kind of scrunched up her face and shrugged her shoulders slightly. Your mouth fell open, you knew Sam didn’t necessarily like you, but you didn’t think she hated you.

“After all, you got her sister killed.” Your face fell, your eyes widened as you looked at Tara. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to kill you first. She can watch as I carve you up, ripping out your organs. Do you still want me to carve out your heart and deliver it to her?”

“I’ll kill you myself before you ever get close enough to hurt her,” your said through gritted teeth.

“One more question,” his voice was deadly calm. “Do you think you can make it to the door before my blade pierces your gut?”

A chill shot down your spine, you stopped breathing. You subconsciously reached for Tara, grabbing her hand, and running towards the door. You caught a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, you yanked Tara, pulling her in front of you and pushing her towards the door, turning just in time to catch Ghostface’s hand as he tried to stab you.

You heard Tara scream. Your eyes darted toward her, cowering in the corner by the door. You had to focus on the cloaked figure in front of you trying to stab you in the heart though. “Go!” you shouted towards Tara, pushing against the hand that held the knife with as much strength as you could. “Go!”

Something slammed into Ghostface’s head, shattering on impact. Ghostface’s hand slipped, you used the distraction to push him off of you. His knife still managing to slice your bicep.

You stood looking down at Ghostface, seeing your blender shattered on the ground next to him. “My blender?” you turned to Tara.

“Let’s go!” she ignored your question, grabbing your hand to pull you to the door.

Ghostface kicked out his feet, tripping you. You caught yourself against the wall, pushing off just as Ghostface brought down his knife, impaling it in the wall where your head had just been.

He pulled on the knife a few times trying to unstick it from the wall. You grabbed the back of his head, slamming it against the wall before delivering a sift to his stomach.

You didn’t get the chance to beat him even more because Tara gripped your hand tight, throwing open the door and yanking you out. She practically dragged you down the steps, not releasing her grip on you even when you were outside.

Tara called Sam as you were ushered off to the hospital. You hated hospitals but Tara insisted, she wouldn’t stop fussing over the cut on your arm. You tried to tell her it was just a scratch, but the continuous bleeding made it hard to argue your defense.

You were sitting on one of the beds in the ER as a nurse finished stitching up the cut. Tara hadn’t left your side, holding onto your hand the entire ride to the hospital and through the entire process of the stitches. You kept giving her a reassuring smile, wanting her to relax slightly, you loved her, but you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers.

The nurse had just finished wrapping your stitches when Sam swung open the curtain. She didn’t say anything, in one motion she stepped forward, engulfing Tara in a hug who instantly returned it. You took the opportunity to flex your fingers of your now free hand, watching as the color slowly returned to them.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Sam questioned, pulling away from the hug to look over Tara, making sure there were no new injuries. “What were you doing there? Why did you go somewhere alone? Why weren’t you in class? I should have never left you. We should have never left our apartment.”

“Sam. Sam. Sam!” Tara tried getting her sister’s attention. After the third time Sam finally stopped rambling. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she reassured her sister. “I’m sorry, we thought we’d be safe together.”

“Look how well that turned out.” Sam shot a glare at you.

You flinched at her stare. You didn’t usually get bothered by Sam’s jabs at you or her glares or her general dislike of you. This time was different though. This time she was right. It was all your fault. You antagonized Ghostface the night before, then you went off to be alone with her sister, where you once again antagonized Ghostface. Tara would have been safe if it wasn’t for you.

“Hey!” Tara snapped; she moved in front of you as if she was defending you from her own sister. “It’s not her fault. She saved me.”

Sam let out a frustrated sigh, running her hand through her hair. She clenched her jaw, flicking a look from Tara to glaring at you. You kept your head down, looking anywhere but at Sam. You tried making yourself as small as you could as you hid behind Tara.

“Let’s go home,” Tara said, leaving no room for argument.

Without looking, Tara reached back, interlocking her fingers with yours. She pulled you to your feet and led you past Sam. You smiled softly at how protective Tara got against Sam when it came to you. You were happy Sam didn’t try to stop Tara; you weren’t sure what you would do if you weren’t allowed to go back to their place with them. You didn’t want to be alone, and you certainly had no desire to leave Tara after the attack.

When you got back to their apartment Tara didn’t say hi to anyone else. Everyone was seated in the living room, ready to greet you guys but quickly fell silent as Tara brushed past them, dragging you to her room. You got comfortable in her bed, Tara instantly curling into you, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere.” You kissed the top of her head. “I promise.” She tightened her hold around you as you two quietly drifted off to sleep.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #he hung up

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perseephoneee · 6 months ago

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okie dokie does a Dean Winchester x reader fic work? Had an idea way back in s1 when jess first dies, (older sister, who kinda takes sam under her wing) reader ended up meeting dean through sam. They had similar personalities but (reader) was more of a hopeless romantic than Dean. Sam on the other hand could totally see them together but Dean always denied it.

“Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak, you creep” “The hell? I do not do that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

so they left ca and travelled and maybe in s2-3 (doesnt have to be accurate) they end up back in ca because of a case or cause reader called sam for help. (not expecting dean to show up as well) and after shes not in danger, turns out they get along really well.

"Im not an arm rest, dean." "Mhm, then why are you so short?" "I'M 5'3 THATS NORMAL"

and just fluff..? idk man let me know if its not what you want to write, i can totally change it💜

not a steak (dean winchester x f!reader)

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

wow remember when i could actually write things in a timely manner? yeah, me neither. i miss those days (that never existed). whomp whomp.

You don't necessarily remember the exact moment that you met Sam. He's been a constant in your life since you were his TA as an undergraduate, watching this freakishly tall freshman so eager to succeed in your class. He made your heart soft, and he made you feel protective. Even though he was so much bigger than you, a naivety in his persona made you take extra time to ensure he succeeded. He ended up getting an A in the class.

You do remember when you met Dean, however. You had heard stories of Dean from Sam the few times you'd catch lunch outside of school. By this point, you were a grad student, filling the void of the older sibling that Sam unconsciously needed filled. You never pried for too many details, and that's how you got people to shut up really fast. But you did meet Dean right as he left town to look for his Dad. Dean was coarse and dismissive of you as if you were just another roadblock stopping him from taking his brother. When you finally got his attention, it was just to size you up before wordlessly climbing into his car. Sam seemed apologetic, but mostly, you were just worried. You had every right to be. Jessica died a week later.

The thing about you is that you can't let a dead dog lie. Where's the fun in that? You'd much rather figure out ways to raise them.

Sam was brilliant, but he let enough details slip to allow you to research him. And you were a law graduate student; you knew a thing or two about studying. Random newspaper clippings, shoutouts of various names, and blog posts allowed you to figure out the supernatural aspect of his life that he had kept from you. You should've been more surprised, but you were more excited than anything. There was more out there. What a strangely relieving thought.

This knowledge proved helpful when you realized you had a poltergeist.

The new place you moved into was charming and Victorian, the dream of everyone with a Pinterest board. It was in fairly decent shape, and with your roommates, you guys thought you could polish it up to something livable during your suffering years of graduate school. Unfortunately, the price was too good to be true, which led to the unfortunate circumstance of hauntings culminating in one of your roommates in the hospital, barely alive. You called Sam that night.

"Hey Sam, it's me…" you trailed off at that, feet tucked under you as the machines' beeping cut through the silence. "I need your help."

The next day, he was at your door, enveloping you in a hug. He smelled exactly the same, and you didn't realize how much you missed him. Dean was with him.

"I'm Dean," he nodded, holding out a hand. You raised a brow.

"We've met."

"I would've remembered someone who looks like you," Dean scoffs, an easy smirk on his lips that probably made many women swoon. You just rolled your eyes, going back into your house and hoping Sam followed.

A week later, the boys were still here. This ghost was frustrating, and it was more the principle of it that was pissing you off more than anything. You let the brothers stay at the house since it was safer in numbers and cheaper. Plus, your roommates took a wide berth of the place before returning. A routine developed in the short time they were here. You cooked breakfast, Sam made coffee, and Dean woke up at some point. You and Sam would enjoy the paper before something happened (usually related to the crossword that Dean was totally not interested in), and you ended up bickering with the older Winchester until Sam got fed up with it and shut it down.

"Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak," Sam muttered to Dean when you weren't around, having stormed off to some other corner of the house. Dean almost spit out his coffee.

"The hell? I do not do that. I have no clue what you're talking about."

Sam just nodded, hiding a smirk behind his book as Dean grumbled about not checking you out.

For the first time that week, Sam was out that night. He was following "a lead." What that lead was, no one knew, but it meant you were alone. With Dean. In a house. Without supervision.

You grumbled something about making dinner. Dean followed you.

"Are you lost?" you asked, hands on your hips as Dean plopped himself at the counter.

"I'm following the food."

"Of course you are."

"Please, no more rabbit food," Dean groaned. "I can't take it anymore."

"Oh no, definitely not," you smirked, pulling out some steaks from the fridge you had been saving. Dean's eyes immediately lit up. "You're helping me cook these. I'm not letting your dumb ass sit around while I prepare a meal."

"You're bossy," Dean grumbles but doesn't complain further as he removes his flannel and sets it on the chair. You ignore that he looks really good in a t-shirt and return to grabbing ingredients. To his credit, Dean is good at letting you tell him what to do and following through. He is definitely a better chef than Sam, who has burned many things in your kitchen. Dean is an excellent sous chef. You tell him as such.

"The hell? I am not a sous," he says while furiously stirring butter.

"It's a compliment, you knobhead."

"Knobhead? What 1950s show are you living in?"

This conversation went back and forth for a while. But you finished cooking a meal, which is always considered a success in your book. Dean devoured him almost immediately before you could even finish cutting through it. Then, it was just you attempting to finish your meal in peace. This was difficult, as Dean continuously kept eyeing your food, hoping you might give it to him, and then would complain outwardly when you didn't.

"You're not going to finish it," he drank his beer, once again looking at your dinner. You glared.

"I can finish it."

"A girl like you doesn't finish an entire steak."

That comment pissed you off. You finished your steak in two bites, shocking Dean, and then proceeded to grab his glass of beer and down it in one gulp. You slammed the glass down, raising a brow. "You have no clue what type of girl I am."

You grabbed both your plates and made your way to the kitchen, putting them in the sink and starting to clean the dishes. You barely made it through a plate before Dean pushed you out of the way.

"Dean—"

"I'm not questioning your ability, but in my world, the one who doesn't cook cleans. So, sit your ass down," Dean said before you could chew him out. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat down, still glaring at him as he washed each dish meticulously and put them either in the dishwasher or on the drying rack. When he was done, he threw the dishtowel over his shoulder. The domesticity made you soften. "I'm sorry for earlier."

You blinked, not really expecting any sort of apology from Dean Winchester. You did expect that you would not get anything besides those words.

"I don't understand women."

You laughed at that, leaning on your hand with your elbow on the table. "Aren't you a self-proclaimed ladies' man?"

"I know how to sleep with women, but I don't get what goes through your heads," Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You want one thing and then a different thing, and I can't keep up."

"So, you're admitting you're slow." Dean threw the towel at you. "Women aren't that complicated; men are just bad listeners. You included."

"I can listen."

"Really? What was I frusterated about at dinner?" you challenged, getting off your seat and leaning over the counter. He blinked a few times.

"That I kept asking for your steak?"

"No, that you presumed that as a woman, I couldn't finish a steak."

"Well, that's not what I said," Dean replied, getting defensive. You just rolled your eyes, grabbing the wine bottle on the counter.

"Oh, also, insight into women; they lie about how good men actually are in the bedroom," you winked, leaving the room and taking the wine with you. You could almost hear Dean's jaw drop.

"It ain't a lie, princess," he intercepted you, his stupid legs moving much faster than yours. You frowned but didn't say anything. Dean took a breath, locking eyes with you. "Why do you insist on always pushing my buttons?"

"Because it's fun? Because you're both annoying and easy to annoy?" you shrugged, clutching your wine bottle to your chest. You didn't know why you picked on him, besides the fact he could be an absolute ASS sometimes that needed kicking. No, you suppose it goes back to early schoolyard days where instead of 'flirting,' you'd push the person and maybe claim to the entire class that they had cooties. To this day, you still had no idea what cooties exactly were, just that you never wanted to catch them.

"I think you like me," Dean smirked. He had crowded you against the wall leading to the living room. Your wine was an innocent bystander clutched to your chest. Maybe not as tall as Sam, but you still had to look up to see him. "I'm gonna prove it."

"Excuse me?" you breathed any sort of bite to your words caught in your throat as he reached up to your face and stroked your cheek. His hands found purchase holding your neck, tilting your face even higher and infinitely closer. Dean took the wine bottle out of your hands, your last line of defense, and stepped away for a second to put it back on the counter. His hands found your face again.

"Hey princess," he whispered, voice sultry. "Breathe." You couldn't do such a thing even if you wanted to because his lips were on yours, and he tasted like the draft beer in your fridge and apple pie. He was gentle, too gentle, and you wanted more. Your hands, first unsure of what to do, grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. One of his hands moved to your waist, thumb brushing the exposed skin where your shirt rode up. He was everywhere all at once, masculinity encapsulated, and you were drowning in it. He pulled away, letting you breathe, the command you forgot to follow. "I wanted to do that since I saw you."

"Bullshit."

"Honest to god— well, not god, but honest— but then you had to go and be increasingly difficult," Dean scoffed, still holding on to you.

"You don't even remember the first time we met."

"Of course I do; it was a week after my Dad disappeared," Dean responded. "You were wearing pajamas and had a raincoat wrapped around you as you asked Sam not to go so that you could figure it out together. I was curt, and you looked like you wanted to call me a thousand horrible names, but you let it go as we drove away."

You smiled a little at that. "You do remember."

"What can I say? I like pushing your buttons."

You smacked him on the chest, earning a laugh as you fought off your smile. You did finally get your wine and let Dean choose something to watch. About halfway through your movie (and three glasses of pinot noir in), you got distracted by a makeout session that would've made your teenage self swoon, but it didn't progress more than that. Neither of you wanted to go too fast. Most of the time, it was just light conversation, cuddling, and the realization that maybe you two were much more alike than you thought.

Both of you fell asleep like that on the couch, blissfully unaware of the morning light. Sam came home early in the morning, dropping his bags before seeing the both of you entwined on the couch. A smile crossed his face.

"Finally."

taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea @qardasngan @evasmlp

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester imagine #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn #supernatural fan fiction #spn fan fiction #my writing

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mosselines · 3 months ago

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this did modest numbers on tiktok, i hope y’all like it too! here’s my…

✨dazai headcanons✨

but they’re all rlly specific & weird

(coming from a cosplayer who’s been in the fandom since 2016)

he has an astigmatism that went untreated for so long he’s now partially blind in his right eye. he needs glasses but hates his old pm pair and never wears them in public. he’s too lazy to get his prescription renewed/hates going to the doctor so they’re not even up to date for his vision

that’s why he’s a bad driver— he can’t fucking see

he drives/reads better if he closes one eye

mori forced him to get braces after he formally joined the port mafia. he had a lisp for the first few months and would blackmail ppl if he did it in front of them

he hid his bad vision for a long time, but mori eventually noticed and forced him to get glasses too. he fucking hated wearing them and “accidentally” kept breaking each new pair mori got

after that, mori got him contacts but he would lie and throw them out just to be defiant (totally not bc they squicked him out)

he originally started wearing his bandages because no one would touch him bc of his ability

he has awful tan lines bc of his bandages, his face and hands are tanner than the rest of his body, but since the sun can permeate light clothing/bandages he also has random splotchiness all over his body, especially his shoulders, arms, & back

in 15, dazai got so excited he was 5 cm taller than chuuya bc he was always the one being bullied for being short/malnourished before they met

at 16, chuuya grew slightly faster than dazai and started teasing him. dazai freaked out and started wearing lifts for a brief period of time. he was researching poisoning techniques to reduce growth right before he finally got his own growth spurt <3

he has chronic insomnia and is a scarily light sleeper. usually gets anywhere from 3-6 hours of sleep a night

he constantly has dark circles under his eyes as a result

whenever he shares a bed with chuuya, he’ll sleep twice as long as normal. at first, chuuya would get mad bc he was a huge brat to try and wake up, but now he lets dazai sleep in as long as he wants

his sense of taste is abysmal, which is why he likes really salty/spicy food. they’re the only flavors he can actually taste

he doesn’t decorate or furnish his ADA apartment because he’s scared that once he gets attached to the place, it’ll get taken away

he constantly beats himself up for not thinking to take odasaku’s coat with him. he bought his current one because it looked similar

he refuses to touch any of his pm salary, so it’s just kept accruing interest and is actually obscene at this point. he asked ango to “handle it” and cover banking stuff under the condition he gets to take out any expenses he wants. it irritates ango to no end that dazai won’t do anything with it

the day kunikida finds out about dazai’s pm bank account will be dazai’s final day on this earth

when he was 15 he was unironically into screamo bc “it screams for me when i can’t.” thought linkin park was super hardcore & his favorite song was “numb” (fucking loser)

he NEVER brushes his hair. like he doesn’t even own a fucking hairbrush or comb until chuuya has a conniption over it and starts keeping one at his apartment

whenever chuuya tries to brush his hair, it’s like trying to wrangle a feral cat. they’ve gotten in physical fights over it that always end with dazai pouting for the next hour while chuuya laughs at how flat his head looks without the rat’s nest

uses dollar store 9-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/bodywash/motor oil. it’s ocean breeze scented! :)

he’s had the same fake driver’s license since he was 15 and never bothered to get a real one

he actually has decent medical training from spending so much time as mori’s apprentice. about the same level as a battle medic would have. capable of stitching wounds & performing surgery, but not as good as yosano even without her ability

yosano has tried to reach out and bond with him about their shared pasts a few times, but he always comes up with an excuse to leave. she eventually gave up on asking

one time, he got badly wounded and had to be treated by yosano. she had to sedate him because her ability doesn’t work on him, and he called her mori the whole time. he doesn’t remember, but she never forgot and stopped trying to spend time with him

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slayfics · 2 years ago

Text

You and Muichiro find it hard to sleep during a thunderstorm.

A flash of lightning lit up your room followed by a loud rumble of thunder. You awoke in a startle. The storm had been going for some time but was now passing straight over the mansion. You tried to pull the covers over your eyes but the pounding of the rain and randomness of the rumbles of thunder made it impossible to get back to sleep.

You weren’t exactly scared of the noise but since being a demon slayer you learned to be a light sleeper to always be aware of approaching demons. The sounds and smells of the storm made it harder on your senses to recognize anything else that might be approaching and as such didn’t allow you to fall back asleep.

You decided to give up on sleeping the rest of the night and walked out to the common area of the mansion where there was a big window. You watched the lightning strike along the mountain and the rain cascade down the window. You knew this meant you’d be tired tomorrow at training with Master Tokito and thought maybe he would understand given the storm. But knowing Master Tokito he'd say something like you must be prepared for any type of weather and conditions out on missions, this is good training. You giggled to yourself at the thought just when you were startled by a voice behind you.

"You look like a cat." Muichiro said. You turned around still taken by surprise by his presence. As a Hashira he was still able to sneak up on you and you hated it.

“A cat?” You questioned.

“Yes, a cat staring out a window.” He elaborated. “I snuck up on you. You didn’t notice me coming, again.”

"Give me a break there is a big storm and I'm tired."

"This storm could strike when you are out hunting a demon on no sleep as well. No excuses. Pay better attention." He said

"Mhm.." You said rolling your eyes hearing him say the exact words you knew he would. You looked back out the window and Muichiro sat down next to you.

"Why are you down here then?" You asked.

"I cannot sleep." He said simply.

"Oh Mr. Big Hashira can't sleep in a storm either?" You teased, but Muichiro took no notice of the playful tone in your voice.

"Storms are good times for demons to strike, and they know that. It inhibits our ability to smell and sense all our surroundings, and my Tsuguko is here. What a sad excuse for a Hashira I would be if a demon attacked during a storm and hurt you while you slept. This is why I cannot sleep." He replied. You felt a bit flustered but knew his words were strictly due to following his role as a Hashira and not because he wanted to protect you personally. Even still, thinking of Muichiro not sleeping because he felt the need to protect you made your stomach flutter.

“Well, I'm awake so you can sleep." You said but yawned right after.

"Hmm..." Was the only reply he gave as he zoned out watching the rain.

You watched the rain with him in silence for some time. Due to his presence you no longer felt the fear of a demon catching you off guard and your eyes began to get heavy. You caught yourself taking longer blinks and the weight of her head started to sway. You shook your head a few times to keep awake but the sleep was still winning.

"Stop fighting your sleep. You need rest for our training tomorrow, go back up to bed." Muichiro said.

"No. If you are awake I'll stay awake." You said stubbornly.

"Those are direct orders from me as your higher up." He stated and turned to look at you furiously only to see you had indeed fallen asleep. The weight of your head swayed again until it rested on his shoulder.

Muichiro’s eyes widened for a second as he wasn't sure how to handle this situation. He let out a sigh and decided you were indeed like a cat, and when a cat falls asleep it is rude to disturb it. Muichiro stayed very still throughout the rest of the night to not disturb you. He watched as your breathing changed through your sleep and found himself proud that even through your dreams you kept up your total concentration breathing.

Once the sun began to show on the mountain, he felt exhaustion hit him and he fell asleep resting his head on yours. Maybe it would be ok if training started a little later today... but just a little.

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sorchathered · 10 months ago

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His favorite girl

Pairing- Rhett Abbott x female reader

Summary- Rhett has always had you by his side and never thought of you as anything other than platonic, that is until someone else takes notice and he spirals as he realizes maybe it’s not as platonic as he thought.

Warnings- language, drinking, Rhett being stupid

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Rhett wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

But when you’d gotten asked out by one of the bull riders traveling for the circuit it had definitely made him feel a certain way. You’d been his best friend since junior high, the two of you started out on the rodeo circuit barrel racing and he’d always seen you as one of the boys. You’d dated over the years of course, but he’d never found any of them threatening, they never seemed to last long anyways. They weren’t worth your time and you weren’t the type to suffer fools so off they went before they Rhett even had a chance to really memorize their names. That worked just fine for him, he preferred his best girl over most people and hated to share. But he totally wasn’t into you, absolutely not, it was strictly platonic. Until it wasn’t.

He had done shitty on his last ride, and to add insult to injury instead of finding you waiting by the trailers you were leaned over the bars of the fence, hair falling out of your tight ponytail and body arched out with your ass on display in your tight Levi’s. Eyes sparkling as you laughed at what the generic looking bull rider was bullshitting your way, normally that shit didn’t work on you at all but this guy had you totally wrapped. You were flirting, pretty shamelessly and for some reason it brought a sour feeling up in Rhett’s throat and a sharp tug in his chest. He had this overwhelming need to knock this guy on his ass, fists clenched as he watched you hand over your phone to get his number.

You finally sauntered your way back over to where Rhett was leaned up against the medic trailer, eyebrow raised as you took in his surly expression. “Who pissed in your cornflakes Abbott? That last run wasn’t as bad as you think it was, let’s go get your grouchy ass a beer mkay?” You said with a grin as you pulled on his elbow and he was damn near powerless to keep up the act, you always seemed to pull him right out of his bad mood and pretty soon he’d forgotten what he was so pissed about in the first place.

Later that night at the pit bar he had once again gotten in over his head, flirting with his high school crush right in front of you after Perry suggested he get off his ass and shoot his shot. In his defense the guy from earlier had showed up at the bar and was turning you across the floor, that uncomfortable feeling settling in his bones as he tried to drown it out with tequila. Then to make matters worse he got into it with Trevor, and somehow lost Perry in the process. When he stalked back through the bar he was already a live wire, and seeing you pressed up against whatever in the hell his name was didn’t help either.

“If yer done eye fucking walk away Joe over here it’s time to go y/n, I ain’t got time to piss around tonight.” He said with his arms across his chest as he leaned into the booth you were sat in, and he knew the second it left his mouth he’d fucked up, the heat in your cheeks and fire in your eyes when you snapped your head towards him was enough to burn the whole bar down. “I’m sorry- what did you just say to me?” You snapped and he knew better than to say anything else, just threw his hands up and spun on his heel for the door. You’d either come home with him or find your own way, he just hoped it wouldn’t end with anyone in your bed. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never given a shit about who you were seeing before, and he’d almost had a shot with Maria tonight, that was something he should’ve been putting effort into, not worrying about you fucking some random on a Sunday night. But it wouldn’t leave his head, and that ugly feeling kept tugging on his chest as he made his way to the truck, making it to the door before he heard the bar door fly open again, you in hot pursuit.

“What is your goddamn problem?!” You said as you pushed him up against the truck door, and he put his hands up ready for you to swing on him, it wouldn’t hurt but it certainly wouldn’t be his idea of a good time. “Are you so miserable that you can’t let anyone else be happy? I know you were pissed about the scores tonight but you have no right to talk to me that way and you fuckin’ know it.” You were vibrating with anger, rage bubbling up in you and all he could think of was his hands on your body.

It was like his dick was driving the car and his brain was asleep, he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he reached forward to yank you into his arms, spinning you to press against the truck door as he captured your lips with his. He knew it was wrong, he should’ve asked if he could kiss you first but you didn’t stop him, soft hands winding into the long hair at the nape of his neck and when you gasped he couldn’t stop himself from sliding his tongue into your mouth and licking into you. It was so good, molten heat pouring from you both as he pressed his thigh between your legs and watched as you pulled back with a moan, eyes glazed over as you blinked up at him, both of you shocked at what your bodies were doing.

“Shit, y/n do ya want me to stop? I can’t think like this- fuck you feel too good” he breathed out into the cold night and watched as you seemed to mull it over in your pretty head. Your head thunked back against the truck window as you continued to try and catch your breath, chest pressed so close to his he could feel your heart beating.

“Took you long enough”, you said with a grin as you pulled his mouth back down to yours, and suddenly it was all clicking into place for him. He’d felt this way for so much longer than he’d let himself admit, using buckle bunnies and his doomed crush on Maria as an excuse to keep him from admitting the truth. “Couldn’t stand it, that guy hand his hands all over ya and all I wanted to do was knock him out” he said with a hiss as you kissed down his jaw and nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Jealous is a good look on you, if I had known that’s all it took I would’ve tried it sooner” you peered up at him with mirth and giggled, he couldn’t quite see how you knew all along but if it got him here with you it didn’t much matter, you’d been so patient with him and he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“Gonna let me take you home sweet thing? I think we have some lost time to make up for.” He was desperate to have you in all the ways he’d only dreamed of, and he could tell you felt the same, neither of you could keep your hands off of each other any more and it was getting a little too heated for the dingy honky tonk parking lot.

“I’m all yours Rhett, always have been.”

He was quick to toss you over his shoulder and plop you into the passenger seat of the truck, looking over his shoulder as he caught the out of towner that had been hoping to take you home lighting up a cigarette outside. He grinned wide and with a wink nodded in the man’s direction, watching his irritation bubble up and huffed out a laugh. No one was taking you home but him ever again if he had anything to say about it, he’d tell your kids someday about how he nearly fumbled the most amazing woman because of his hubris and thank God every day for your patience with his stubborn ass. You’d been his from the very beginning, his favorite girl and love of his life.

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#rhett abbott #rhett abbot x reader #Rhett outer range #outer range #outer range fanfiction

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joelsmochi · 1 year ago

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Diet Mountain Dew

rating: E 18+ only pairing: f!reader x bfd!joel miller (tv + game series) summary: your boyfriend has been cheating on you, but his uncaring, selfish, and very flirtatious father wants to make it up to you the best way he knows how... warnings: AU (no apocalypse, no sarah), infidelity, 30+ year age gap, asphyxiophilia, dacryphilia, a little rough housing, hair pulling, spanking, oral (m receiving) | let me know if i've missed any! wc: 5.5k a/n: thank you for 500 followers!!! let the record show that i do not condone or endorse cheating at all, this is purely for entertainment purposes!!! i tried something a little bit different with the writing style so please let me know if you guys like it or not!

masterlist

you’re no good for me, but baby i want you…

He couldn’t help his filthy mind. Even if he wanted to. Being around you was always a test of his willpower.

He kept as much distance as respectfully possible, not wanting to give himself away. Still, every night he managed to find himself lying in bed fisting his cock while entertaining the daydreams he often had of fucking you into the bed.

It wasn’t the age difference that deterred him from you, but the mere fact that you were dating his son.

He hated himself for it, but he hated it even more when he would be painting his stomach with white streaks and barely whispering remnants of your name.

And now, as he sits across from you and his son at the dinner table, he hates himself for finding you so pretty.

His eyes keep lowering to look at your grey and white striped tank top — not because he was trying to look at your cleavage but because it fits you perfectly. You kept fidgeting with the top hem of your shirt as if you were ensuring it wasn’t shifting too low. He thought it was cute.

Your voice left him in a trance; he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, but he enjoyed hearing you rave and ramble about the movie you just went to.

The real mood killer was Jacob — “Okay, we get it. It was a good movie,” he snapped.

“Jacob,” Joel scolded. Though the pout you absentmindedly wore told Joel that it was pointless.

Jacob made an incredulous face and slightly shrugged. “What? She’s been talking about the movie for ten minutes. I feel like I saw the damn thing.”

“Well, I happen to like spoilers.” Joel meant it as a joke in hopes of lightening the mood, but once he saw the slight smile on your face, he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness.

How he could appreciate you more than his son did was beyond him. Joel just hoped it wasn’t a more significant issue behind closed doors.

Over the next few months, Joel had been seeing less and less of you and even managed to overhear some of the times Jacob had been arguing with you over the phone.

From the only half of the conversation he could hear, Joel gathered that you were upset that Jacob was spending more time with “friends” than you, which led Joel to believe it was more of an indication of cheating. He stayed tightlipped about it because he had no desire to stir up any unnecessary drama, but his curiosity grew as time passed.

So when he saw you grabbing some cereal in the grocery store on a random Tuesday, he wasted no time approaching you.

You seemed surprised at him calling your name but gave him a welcoming smile nonetheless.

“Hi, Joel, how are you?”

“I’m alright, how ‘bout you? Feel like I haven’t seen you around lately.”

Your smile nearly dropped completely. “Yeah, uh. Jacob and I are just going through a tough time right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Joel said softly, not really meaning it. “My son aside, I do actually enjoy your company. I mean, you’re the only twenty-four year old I know that likes U2.”

That made you chuckle. “Oh, is my seasoned music taste the only thing I have going for myself,” you bantered.

He tried to contain his blush as if it were even possible. “No, not at all,” he sarcastically replied. “You also don’t use like or totally after every other word.”

You laughed harder at that, maybe a little more than necessary, but it was nice to be complimented on things other than how ‘good you give head.’

A few minutes later, you told Joel you have to get going, and for some reason, he took it as the chance to say, “Next week, they’ll have that new Daniel Craig movie in theaters. I was wonderin’ if you’d want to go. I remember you said something about it.”

You smirked up at him and narrowed your eyes slowly. “Are you asking your son’s girlfriend on a date, Mr. Miller?”

Kind of, he thought.

“No! No, fuck,” he hissed, pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

And there’s another cute laugh coming out of you. “I’m teasin’. I think it might be a little weird, y’know?”

“Jake can come if you want. Doesn’t have to just be you and me.”

“Mmm… I kinda don’t want him to,” you admitted. “He’ll just complain the whole time. We’re friends, right? Let’s go, just you and me.” Your optimism plastered a smile on his face, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think it was cute. He agreed, and you both said your goodbyes.

As you walked away, you felt a pang of guilt for some reason. It wasn’t a date, but it felt like one. This sudden need to impress Joel Miller (formerly anticipated father-in-law) made you feel weird.

But you thought of all the nights you spent home alone watching movies because your boyfriend was out late again. And again. And again.

After a long and stressful internal debate inside a bath with some Epsom salts, you decided not to care.

So what if you wanted to dress up and wear a little makeup to (hopefully) catch your boyfriend’s dad’s attention? It's not like your boyfriend didn’t spend time doing body shots off of some random girl at the furthest bar across town.

A little male attention wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

Besides, you didn’t think Joel would actually care. Pretending it was a date was purely just for your entertainment.

So when the day came, you practically ran outside the second you got a text message from him saying he was there. He chewed on his bottom lip to restrain his grin as he watched you walk towards his car, wearing a denim mini-skirt and a white babydoll top.

Your hair was neat and tucked behind your ears, and you were visibly wearing more makeup than usual.

He felt flattered, entertaining the idea of you putting in a little extra effort just for him.

The ride to the theater wasn’t as tense as you had anticipated. You both spent it to talk about the previous movie and the theories you both had for the new one.

While you both were excited to see the actual movie, neither of you could stop noticing the small details about each other.

He smelled your lotion. You smelled his body wash.

He noticed your new earrings. You caught him smiling a lot more.

He looked at you every chance he got. You waited until he looked away to look at him.

He insisted on paying for your tickets and food at the theater, then led you to the “best seats” in the viewing room. Not a date, your ass. He even looked like he put effort into buying a new pair of jeans.

The tension inside you grew as soon as the movie began. And fucking hell, you didn’t know you could get so horny so fast. It was stupid little things that made you clench your thighs occasionally.

No fingers brushing. No elbows touching. Nothing like that.

Instead, it was the sound of his fingernails scratching the thick layer of scruff along his jaw, how he occasionally readjusted in his seat and seemingly spread his legs a little more, and when he would look over at you to ensure you were enjoying the movie.

This had gone a little further in your head than you intended, but you didn’t fucking want it to stop.

Maybe halfway through the movie, he realized you hadn't opened any of your candy. You always ate candy during a movie; it was something Jacob found cute when you first started dating and something Joel grew accustomed to long before his crush even developed. Joel even made it a point to keep a stash for when Jacob had you over for movie night.

He felt a little silly for hyper-fixating on such a weird and relatively small detail, but then he saw your legs clench together. He tried telling himself you were only readjusting your position, but then you sighed in a peculiar tone. The sigh that Joel always let out when he was sexually frustrated.

He would have continued telling himself he was reading too much into it, but another soft sigh left your lips, and suddenly, all he could think about was having you beneath him making the same pretty noises.

All the signs were there, but who would initiate it, and how? He worried he bit off more than he could chew by inviting you here. It only got more difficult to ignore when his cock stiffened inside his jeans, rolling his eyes at the fact that he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home to take care of it.

You noticed his hand palming his jeans and glanced over at him, only to see his erection throb against his pants, hard.

Knowing you’d probably regret it, you put your hand beneath the armrest and suddenly rested your hand high up on his thigh. His body tensing made you halt any more sudden movements, but nothing suggested he wanted you to stop.

He searched for the strength to push your hand off and tell you to stop, that this was wrong, and to remind you of your assumed loyalty to his son.

But he didn’t want that at all.

He liked having your hand on his thigh where it felt like it belonged, painted nails drawing small circles along the denim.

What he truly needed was for this fucking movie to be over. Once it finally was, he wasted no time getting you back into his truck.

“Joel?” Your voice was fragile and soft, and you wondered why he hadn’t made a move yet or at least started the engine. “Should I not have done that?”

“What were you thinkin’?” Was all he could think to ask.

“Guess I wasn’t.”

“No. You shouldn’t’a done that.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You will be.”

You don’t remember who initiated it or climbed in the backseat first. All you knew was that you were looking at the back of a building, the mall, or something, and you heard Joel grunting next to your ear while his hips slammed against your ass.

You felt a soreness forming around where his rough hands were holding you, but you didn’t flinch or pull away. You leaned into the meanness of his grip, allowing it to satiate all of that burning desire running along your flesh.

“Oh my God, Joel, ye-yes.”

His name dripping so effortlessly from your lips only urged him to fuck you even faster, his truck no doubt shaking violently because of it, some metal underneath made that obnoxious creaking sound to verify.

“You like that, huh,” he groaned; his fingers wrapped around the cuff of your elbow to meet his body halfway with the thrusts. “Needy fuckin’ girl. Takin’ me so well-agh!“

“So deep,” you huffed out.

“C’mere.”

Joel carefully turned your body around, sitting you back against the door before sliding his cock back inside of you with ease from how wet you were.

“Joel,” you moaned without reason, eyes fluttering shut as the curve of his shaft continued to rut into that sensitive spot.

He pulled the strap of your tank top down to find you braless. Of course. He smirked and licked his thumb and index finger before giving your stiff nipple a soft pinch.

Your breath shuddered at the surge of pleasure, and then he did the same thing to your clit with his other hand.

“Oh my fucking-“ You cut words off with a deep moan, finding it a little silly that such a slight squeeze to your clit could make you melt the way it did.

“Tha’ feel good, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse from choking back his own moans.

You hummed and nodded, something he thought was cute and began to rub your clit forcefully with his big thumb. Your mind felt numb from all of it, so much pleasure releasing itself.

Looking up at Joel made you feel so small, protected, and cared for. Looking down between your legs, he looked so focused on making you feel good.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?”

You shot your wide-eyed gaze up at him, surprised at his sudden appraisal of his son.

He chuckled and took his hand from your breast to softly hold your chin. “You gettin’ all shy on me now, girl?” Suddenly, he fell to an achingly slow rhythm and curled his hips into yours instead of his previous thrusting. “…I thought you had a bit more confidence than that.”

You scowled at his taunts, not sure what to say back. You just wanted to fucking cum. Noticing your lack of response made him chuckle again.

“What? My son don’t fuck you stupid like this?” He whispered onto your lips.

“…No,” you finally whimpered.

You felt a weird rush of emotion pass through you; the father of your boyfriend talking down on him while simultaneously fucking you didn’t turn you off like it maybe should have… If anything, it pushed you closer to the edge.

Joel raised his eyebrows in amusement and half smiled at your flushed face. “No?” His finger still made loops around your clits, his cock drenched in your heat. He wanted you to feel all of it.

“You make me feel so good, Joel.” You reached up to give him a chaste kiss.

“You take me so well, honey,” he said against your neck. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, baby? Hmm?”

You whispered out your confirmation and grabbed a hold of his greying hair. You wanted to memorize this moment thread by thread. His hair smelled of cheap shampoo and his beard of coffee, but his arms and chest smelled like him with the hint of sweat that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, how you could just bathe in him, cumming and unfolding in his strong arms.

“Oh- Joel, I’m cu—I’m cumming,” you choked out. He said something about how good you were that you couldn’t quite process.

You held onto him tightly and cried out at the sensation of your knotted-up tension unraveling inside you like a Christmas present just waiting to be opened up. It fluttered and filled every corner of your mind, all while you moaned his name. You couldn’t even confuse it with his son’s. Joel.

Joel just worked better in your mind than Jacob ever could. Joel worked your body better, too. Maybe even a little better than you.

Your mind was so fucking blank that you almost didn’t feel Joel collapse onto you as he finished himself, moaning your name and running his hands all over you as if to savor it. He kissed you softly, slowly pulling out of you, and discarded the condom somewhere.

“So pretty when you cum.”

You lazily giggled at the compliment and sat up to grab your panties, but Joel snatched them from your weak hand. He took your legs and rested them in his lap to slide the fabric up your calves and thighs. You just watched and smiled at his further appreciation for your body as he did the same with your skirt.

“You really know how to treat a lady,” you playfully cooed, reaching for another kiss that he returned, savoring it.

He bashfully smiled, like his mind was elsewhere. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”

“We will,” you quipped, confidence returning; he glanced over at you and frowned, confused at the sly grin you wore proudly. You climbed onto his lap and ran your nails over his facial hair, trailing over his pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. “The more you fight it, the more you’ll need me, Joel.”

And fuck, were you right.

Weeks. He waited weeks after that encounter to see you. Weeks, he felt disappointed when you didn’t attend the weekly dinner that Joel and Jacob agreed upon him moving out.

He no longer felt guilty touching himself to thoughts of you. He was angry. Why couldn’t you just say you agreed with him instead of letting him know there was an opportunity to do it again? Why make yourself available to anyone other than his (shitty) son?

That anger turned into thirst when you finally decided to show up for Jacob’s small birthday dinner. Aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered to wish the only child a happy birthday. Meanwhile, Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you the second you walked in — partially because he wasn’t expecting you to show up after not seeing you for a while, but he’d never seen you wear something so… Short.

As possessive as he wanted to be, he knew he had to keep his composure not to reward you the satisfaction and keep his promise to himself. What he hadn’t considered is that you would not make those same promises.

While Joel finished preparing the food, you told Jacob you’d help bring everything else out so he could sit around the living room and talk to his family and friends.

You took the unnecessary route and grazed your chest against Joel’s elbow as you reached into the refrigerator to grab some drinks before taking them to the other room. You made as many sly little trips like that, not looking at or towards Joel whatsoever but making sure he was looking at you.

You saved Joel’s beer for last. You always brought him his beer once you realized he usually had one before eating dinner any time you were over. It wasn’t anything malicious or sneaky until now.

You grabbed the brown glass bottle and stood next to him. Finally giving him the satisfaction of looking at him, you twisted the cap off and wrapped your lips around the cold rim, tilting the glass up and tasting some of the orange-flavored liquid, lips coming off the bottle with a pop.

Those lips. That noise. It filled his mind with the image of you a second ago, only instead of a beer bottle, he imagined his hard cock.

He watched carefully as you licked up a running droplet from the side of the neck; you held the bottle up for him to take, and tensely, he did so.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His usual response but in a more sultry tone.

It made you blush and stare at him like he hung the stars and moon every night for you. “You’re welcome, Joel.”

He kept his eyes on you as you walked away for the last time, thinking about everything he wanted to do to you.

His hands were firm, clasped tightly around your wrists. His body pressed into your back while he pushed you against the wall. He hated that you were laughing. That you thought this was a funny game.

He thrusted into your ass without care, hurting you slightly with the pressure. He grabbed a hold of your hair and yanked it. He almost smiled at you, yelping out.

“Where’s that little fucking smile at now, huh,” he gritted. Then he planted a hard smack to your cheek, not bothering to soothe it the slightest bit. “You think you can just tease me and test me and fucking treat me however you want? Hmm? Think you can walk around with your ass damn near hangin’ out of this fucking dress?”

A tear rolled down your burning cheek as you whimpered, “I’m sorry, Joel. I w-wanted your attention.”

“You got what you wanted. Don’t fuckin’ cry about it now.”

Feeling your panties fill with a warm desire, you felt pathetic and weak.

Do I like that, you wondered, feeling used and being hurt?

You got your confirmation from the dumb little whimper you let out when you felt Joel’s body release from you. He boots thumping against the floor a few times before the bed creaked from his body weight.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

You pushed away from the wall and tiptoed to him. He almost felt bad for making you cry, but you were pushing his fucking buttons all night long. You sank to the floor, sitting on your bare feet and looking at him through wet eyelashes. Joel was more than glad that Jacob decided to go to a party with his friends and even more pleased that he didn't ask questions when you said you'd stay to help Joel clean up.

“I’m sorry, Joel-“

“You will be.”

You softly smile at him, repeating those words, knowing this time he meant it.

His eyes were cold and shallow when they stared into yours as his hands worked to undo his belt buckle. The metal teeth clanking together made you shudder, and you tried your best to keep your eyes locked with his.

“You misbehave once, and this belt goes ‘round your neck,” he warned, “we clear?”

You bashfully nodded, thankful he accepted it as an answer. Though you secretly hoped he would do it already, knowing you were bound to back talk him at some point.

Joel began to undo his jeans, and he made a ticking noise behind his teeth, ruminating on how you played with him at the table.

“Playin’ with my cock under the table,” he grunted, pulling his jeans down to his knees, “what kinda girl are you?”

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, felt you,” you said, glancing down at the growing erection beneath his plaid boxers. “I was being needy.”

“Yes, you were,” he simpered, “but you know I like that.”

You hesitated for a second before jumping into his lap and kissing him. Thrown off, it was a moment until he relaxed into your body, grasping the sides of your waist and hungrily kissing you back with a groan emitting from his throat.

He tasted like a man. He smelled like a man. Beer and body wash and perspiration drowning your senses. Your pussy ached when he slipped his beer-coated tongue into your mouth, sloppily licking around the ridges of your teeth and lips, tasting your chapstick and that one sip of alcohol you stole from him a couple of hours prior.

He felt your shaky hands reach to pull his cock out of his boxers; you pumped it slowly with one hand between your bodies, causing his moans to fall into your mouth.

He got a hold of your tits and massaged them gently before giving your nipples both a hard pinch, making you yelp and pull away from him. After chuckling at your pouty face, he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled it to his liking, almost treating you like a rag doll.

“Need you to suck my cock,” he choked out, sounding almost as if he were pleading of you to do it.

“Are you asking?”

He tugged your hair a little harder to signal he was not asking.

“Yes, sir.”

He watched intently as you stripped down to your panties and sat back in your previous position on the floor, taking his pants off and propping your arms on his burly thighs. He leaned back after unbuttoning his shirt and watched your tongue lick up a thick bead of precum from his tip, and you swallowed it without a second thought.

You drooled and spit all over his cock, wanting to make it a little messy for him, and even spreading some around his balls which made him incandescently moan.

And finally, you took him into your mouth, slobbering and sucking and moaning away around his girth. Your hand pumped to the sane rhythm of your mouth while gently squeezing and twisting it to add to his pleasure.

Joel’s head fell back in ecstasy; he couldn’t hold back his moans even if he wanted to. Your mouth was so warm and inviting, and it felt so fucking good. Your tongue lapping away as you sucked drove him crazy, and he found himself wondering why the fuck his son was cheating on you.

“That’s it, baby—mnh, fuck,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Ohh, just like that.”

His hand stroked your hair, and you looked up at him from the touch. Those eyes of yours made his thighs twitch and his stomach contract.

He wanted to punish you for making him wait, for teasing him, for being so fucking irresistible… But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. He felt weak beneath you, out of control. And he loved it: watching you take control of him, his dick. The slurping noises coming from your mouth not only suggested that you knew what you were doing but that you fucking loved it.

Your lips humming around him and creating webs of spit and precum made his dick harder than he had ever felt it. He was so close already, dire for his release, and it didn’t help when you surprised him with a rough thrust into your throat.

It hurt a lot, but that’s what you wanted. To ruin yourself for him. Show Joel what he could be getting every fucking night. Tears ran down your cheeks as you put him further down your throat until your nose was buried into the black and grey hairs surrounding the base of his cock.

He cried out your name and obscenities, saying, “Please,” for something, but you were not sure what exactly. His trembling thighs began closing around your head, not aiding in the lack of oxygen you had left, but he tried to fight it. You refused to let up on him, only swallowing hard and gagging harder, waiting for him to shoot his cum down your throat.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Oh fuck, no one- agh—no one’s ever fucking gone that deep-“

That’s what he was pleading for: he wanted you to quit. He didn’t want to cum so soon. But he tasted so good, and you had gotten him so fucking close, you couldn’t see yourself quitting now.

You pulled your head up to mess with Joel’s head, making him think you were listening. But you only went back down, making him pull your hair to stop you from disobeying him. Your lips departed from him with a pop, the same pop that he'd heard when you took a sip of his drink. It made him all the more desperate.

Despite your coughing and choking, he slipped his belt around your neck and looped it, not saying anything to ridicule you and simply tugging at the belt roughly. You choked a little more and then smiled at him, drool dripping down your chin onto your breasts. The sight was purely pornographic. Your lips were puffy, your face red, eyes dark and welling up, tears streaks on your cheekbones.

“Since you wanna fucking choke on something so bad…”

He tugged at the belt once again to emphasize his point. He stood up and yanked the leather to guide you where he wanted, yet that proud look never left your face. You were on all fours on the bed as if you were on display for him, and he stood behind you, pressing his thumb to your slit and spreading your juices around lazily.

You hummed at the small amount of friction and arched your ass up for him. Wiggling your hips in desperation, he smacked your ass hard enough to sting, the echo in the room ringing against your eardrums.

Joel smacked his fat tip against your asshole smirking when he felt it pucker; he took his wet cock in his hand, pumping it a few times before allowing it to sink inside of your needy cunt. You found yourself burying your face into the sheets as he began fucking you, the tug around your neck digging deeper as Joel maintained his grip on it.

“Such a fucking slut, so wet from just sucking my cock,” he spat, watching his cock disappear into your swelling pussy over and over and over. “S’it feel good, baby?”

You nodded, arching your back even more to feel him reach deeper and whimpering whenever his tip brutally bumped your cervix.

Suddenly, you felt a firm yank against your neck. “Use your words.”

“Feels so good, Joel,” you answered.

A swell of desire fills your belly, growing each time he thrusts into that sweet little spot inside of you. You’re clawing at the bed, reaching your neck forward to apply the satisfaction of not being able to breathe.

His free hand pressed against the swell of your ass, gripping it tightly as his hips snapped against the back of your thighs, making a clapping sound fill the room. You moaned into his duvet, slobber trailing out of the corners of your mouth. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust gave you the added pleasure you needed to finish if he kept this rhythm, but his voice was what you needed to send you over the edge.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he groaned. "Love how you squeeze my cock with it. Ohh, yeah, that's it, baby. You need to cum? Hmm? Does this pretty pussy need to cum?"

Your moans, muffled by the sheets, resulted in him pulling the belt up enough to make you lift your head so that he could hear you more clearly. "Yes yes yesss, Joel- MNH, oh fuck yes, please please."

He never forgot how your body gave away when you needed to cum; your body heaved with anticipation, your knuckles turned pale from your tight grip, your walls clung to him tighter than what was comfortable (which he fucking lived for then and now), and your moans heightened in pitch and volume. He couldn't punish you when you sounded so sexy screaming his name, it was his biggest weakness.

"I know, baby, I know. You can come," he encouraged sweetly, massaging the dip in your back to help relax you. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Need to feel you- fuck- cum for me."

And a few seconds later, you were convulsing beneath him from the tight coil inside of you finally breaking into shreds. The belt being pulled tighter around your neck rendered you helpless as it created the euphoria of what felt like nearly passing out. The fuzzy vision and the black spots sent your mind into a daze, or it could have been the lack of air. Your eyes grew heavy as your orgasm persisted from Joel's lack of mercy for your cunt. He just pounded away like you were made for him and his enjoyment only, and it thrilled you even more.

He grabbed your shoulder gently to bring your back to his chest and let go of the belt. You breathed heavily, and Joel kissed your jaw endearingly, his beard scraping your skin.

"So good f'me, you know that?" He moaned against your ear. His eyes fluttered shut when his hand went to cradle your chin, and he felt all of the saliva and tears coating your face.

"Can't take it," you mumbled.

Your cunt was aching and sore, still pulsing from the harsh climax you had to endure with him not easing up at all. Your lips were swollen from his rough pounding, and your ass was burning from his hairs scratching against you. His cruel laugh filled your ears and made even more tears fall from your eyes.

"Fucking ruined you," he chuckled, earning another moan from you. "You can take it, baby. I know you can. I know you can be a good girl for me. Gonna fill you up with my cum- mmngh... Make sure this pussy knows it belongs to me."

"It does," you huff out, reaching to hold onto his forearms. "Not anyone else. Not even me. Just for you, Joel. It's all yours. Not even Jacob's."

That sent him over the edge. A pathetic whimper followed by a moan left his hoarse throat while he gave you one last powerful thrust. That cold feeling of guilt flooded his body and turned him on even more; he relished in the confidence you reclaimed, knowing that the guilt and secrecy of it all also turned you on in the darkest of ways.

"Fuck," he shouted as the last of his spend poured inside of your sore pussy. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and slowly pulled out of you to sit beside you on the bed before you climbed to straddle his thighs. "You're amazing," he whispered against your lips whilst unraveling the belt from your neck. "You know you really are gonna help me clean up," he teased, sending you into a short fit of laughter.

"Only if we get to make one more mess, Mr. Miller."

dividers by cafekitsune

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #joel tlou #tlou

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ragnarockz · 1 month ago

Note

Bar fight but it's Rio going feral on someone who tried to put the moves on her Detective. Obviously alleyway sexins' after cause Agnes is like 🥵.

Sorry I let this one burn in my ask for as long as it did 💔

Oh man, I hope ya'll love possessive Vidal 👀❤ This one is for ya'll

And, you know, maybe it was good that I waited because I totally pulled from this

Agnes watched as Vidal's eyes got small, squinted. She swore she could see tiny little green daggers shoot from them as the woman sitting on the stool next to her kept talking.

Vidal sucked back her beer in silence; never once taking her eyes off of the woman on Agnes left. Vidal had been making it very clear all night that they were together, basically sat there with her hand between Agnes' legs and this bitch wasn't getting the hint.

Vidal put down her bottle a little hard; the solid thunk of the glass making contact with the bar top. Agnes shot Vidal a look and then a slight shrug; not wanting to be rude in a half-sided conversation with this random woman who sidled up to her.

First she complimented her boots, then it was her eyes.

Vidal interjected as quickly as she could, using her elbow to push herself in between Agnes and the woman. She gave the stranger her sickly sweet smile, teeth flashing as she grabbed Agnes' arm, possessive in her grasp. The woman had seen it, saw every movement in Vidal and the way Agnes responded. She knew they were together, could read their history and yet...

Vidal's hand squeezed Agnes' thigh, making her draw her attention to her right. She gave Vidal a tired smile, a 'get me the fuck out of this bar this shit is pissing me off' smile that Vidal knew very well.

Vidal's hand traveled up and away from Agnes' leg to take her right hand in hers and guide her off of the bar stool. As quick as a whip, the random stranger had jumped from her stool too.

"I swear to fucking god,"

Vidal mumbled under her breath as she caught sight of the woman from the corner of her eye, hot on their heels like a lost little puppy.

Vidal waited for her and Agnes to be shoulder to shoulder before she brought her head in close so only Agnes could hear,

"Go out those back doors, Baby and wait for me...I'll be out in a second."

Vidal let go of Agnes' hand and watched her walk off, walk to the back of the bar. Vidal stood fast, waiting for the woman to pass by her before she caught up and came around, facing her now and blocking her path to the door.

"You must be really bad at taking hints, huh?"

The woman stared at Vidal a little dumbfounded until it clicked and Vidal had to watch a knowing smile spread onto her face.

"I think your girlfriend is really bad at taking hints. Do you have to tell her to her face when you're flirting with her?"

Vidal bit her lip in response, shaking her head. She could feel angry hot burning under her skin, prickling from her neck to her face. There was one thing she couldn't tolerate, couldn't fucking stand was when people pushed Agnes down. Emotionally, physically, mentally, verbally. Her means were her own; her reactions a testament of her life lived.

Vidal pushed her sharp tongue against the inside of her cheek before she got a little closer, almost touching the woman in front of her,

"You need to get the fuck out of this bar and never fuck with me and my fiance again. Get it? And if you want to make this hard, which it seems like you really fucking want to do..."

Vidal opened the left side of her blazer to show off her proudly pinned FBI badge. She held her coat open long enough for the dumbass in front of her to get a good look in the dimly lit bar; realized she finally did when her eyes went wide and her face went a shade lighter.

"Fucking thought so...lay off and get the fuck out."

Vidal basically spat at her feet before she pushed her way past the woman, following Agnes' trail out the back door.

The night was warm, filled with promise. Vidal let out a deep breath and spotted Agnes leaning against the brick wall of the building opposite to the bar. Hands in her pockets, one foot up to rest, she looked like a better, hotter, dyke-version of James Dean. It made Vidal's heart flip, until the anger rose up in her throat again.

She watched in the night as Agnes' hands left her pockets to clutch her belt, eyebrows shooting up in question. Vidal walked quickly, closing the distance between them until she was a breath away from Agnes.

"You shake her loose, Babe?"

Vidal's hands shot forward, grabbing Agnes' wrists. She pushed them back, towards the wall to pin her back against it. She heard Agnes gasp softly under her breath, body shifting in the new position.

Vidal went in for a bite; down onto Agnes' bottom lip before she took her lips with hers. She kissed her deeply and hard; almost as sloppily as Agnes kissed. She heard and felt Agnes' breath in her mouth, against her lips before she pulled Agnes forward with her hands still grabbing Agnes' wrists.

She peeled her off of the wall before she started to move her arms to one side, Agnes' body twisting one way. The realization sunk in and Agnes complied. She turned herself around to face the wall.

Agnes felt Vidal's steady hands grab her waist above her belt. She held her, got her against the wall as much as she could. Agnes clenched her teeth at the urgency in Vidal's actions. There was no way in hell she was going to be sweet about any of this.

Vidal rested her head on Agnes' right shoulder. The detectives ponytail ticking her face and the heat waving off of Agnes made Vidal moan into Agnes' neck. The agent felt the detective try to buck backwards, trying to take the control away from Vidal. Wrong move. Vidal's right knee came up to push into the back of Agnes'; pushing her forward. Locking her in. Fast and warm hands snaked away from Agnes' waist and down into her pants. She hadn't packed, Vidal realized, maybe that's why she got hit on.

It was a easier feat then, Vidal mused as she smiled into Agnes' neck, fingers finding their way to Agnes' clit. She heard the detective moan, something strangled in her throat. She reveled in the way Agnes tried to move her hips, trying to take everything she should, trying to feed. It was Vidal's favorite unspoken thing; the way Agnes was always hungry. Always chasing her pleasures without apologies.

Vidal kept her fingers moving, kept them pumping into Agnes. She wanted to feel her unravel, unwrap around her. Wanted to feel that sweet release coat her fingers in the back alley of the bar. Fresh from work and buzzing with the beers they knocked back; she wanted Agnes to give into her fully. Wanted her to surrender.

And it didn't take long, to Vidal's unsurprised surprise. Agnes grunting into the night air and slamming her hips back as far as Vidal would allow her. That release came, the arousal seeping between Vidal's fingers.

"Jesus...Vidal..."

Vidal brought her mouth to the side of Agnes neck; just below her ear. She planted a kiss before licking up Agnes' face to her earlobe. She heard Agnes bite back a moan, squirming now in impatience.

"I told her you were my fiance..."

Agnes pushed back as hard as she could, knocking Vidal off kilter. Her hands ripped out from Agnes' pants, teeth scraping away from Agnes' ear lobe. She back up and tried to steady herself, watched in awe as Agnes turned herself around from the wall.

Gaze heavy with lidded eyes; the hunger seeping from her smile. Wild and passionate and overly smitten. That singular word throwing Agnes for a loop. Vidal felt Agnes' eyes roam over her body; eating her up with her gaze. Vidal knew the power shifted right then and there; knew that when they got home Agnes would be the one at her back, pinning her deep into the mattress without any remorse.

#Ask #Marvel #Agatha All Along #Butch!Agatha #Agnes O'Connor #Detective Agnes O'Connor #Agnes of Westview #Agent Vidal #Rio Vidal #Writing #Writing prompts #I took a day break from these two yesterday and instantly missed them 😞❤#They course through my veins every second of every day I'll have you know

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angelpuns · 4 months ago

Text

50au Part 22

“Sooooooooo, Raphael, right? Where'd you all get your names, anyway?” Leo asked, leaning a little too far into Raph’s space.

Once Mikey and Donnie had set out on their ingredient-hunt, Raph had helped Leo to the TV room to watch a movie. And instead of watching Leo was asking him questions.

“ cause they're a little too matchy-matchy to mine, ya know? Makes this whole thing seem like total bullshit,”

Raph sighed, not daring to look at Leo right now. He was still working on…on being present when it came to hanging out with Leo. It wasn't that he didn't want to hang around his little brother, just sometimes if he looked at him too long he started thinking about…the krang. And nearly killing him.

And now he got to add the ‘ watch him almost bleed out’ and ‘remember holding him down and tranquilizing him’ to the mix, which was making it really, really hard to not let his mind drift off.

Because he really, really needed to keep an eye on Leo. Donnie had mentioned that even he didn't know if Leo was faking or not, and that he could try and make a run for it.

Fucked up leg or not.

Just when things were getting better for them. For him. Just when Raph and Leo were starting to be normal around each other again, everything seemed to blow up.

“ Pops named us, that's why they match. He was goin' through a super weird art history phase back then, had a buncha random books about it,” He answered, sighing. Raph knew he shouldn't ask at the risk of it making him upset, but he needed to know, “if Pops wasn't there, how'd you get your name?”

Leo leaned out of his space with a laugh, “I was watchin' Romeo and Juliet and thought he was pretty. But Romeo didn't fit me, so I took the actor's name instead,”

Raph couldn't help but laugh, that sounded like something Leo would do. It was kind of a relief to know that even though his memories didn't have any family, he was the same old Leo.

“ Sounds like somethin' you'd do, yeah,” He snorted, “once a middle child, always a middle child,”

“ Yeah, well, I was actually an only child, soooo” Leo shrugged.

Raph didn't day anything about that. He didn't know what to say. Obviously Leo didn't really believe them, and Raph sure as hell wasn’t gonna be able to convince him. Even Mikey couldn't convince him.

They were quiet for a while, before Raph finally spared a glance at his brother.

Leo looked tired. He was watching the movie, but his eyes kept fluttering closed before opening again with a start. Even when he was relaxing against the arm of the couch, Raph could see the tension in his arms and legs. Like he might need to run at any second. It made Raph's chest ache and that persistent fog on the edge of his brain start Creeping in. His little brother was scared of him.

As he should be, though. Raph seemed unable to do anything but hurt him, after all.

“ Didn't sleep well?” He rumbled, instead of spewing all the bullshit that was building up in his head. This wasn't a good idea either, he knew that, but it was better than sitting in silence watching Leo be scared of him.

Leo glanced over, shrugging a little and fixing his expression into something less exhausted and more neutral.

“ Eh, but I don't sleep well normally anyway,” He started, opening his mouth to say more and then shutting it again.

“ yeah, I know. You didn't sleep a ton right after the- “ Raph cut himself off. It was probably not a good idea to bring that up. He didn't want to make Leo even more scared or panic by talking about it.

He'd gotten better about it in the last couple of months. They all had. But it felt like all progress was out the door on the face of this curse.

Leo sighed, “...yeah. Had a lot of… a lot of nightmares..”

Raph swallowed. He really, really didn't want to talk about this. But maybe this would help Leo feel…safe. He didn't know. It felt like the wrong choice to make,but Raph had never been known for making the best choices, even before the invasion.

“You had one last night?” he murmured, “ That why you were watchin’ the camera light?”

Leo pulled his legs up to his chest, wincing a little when he pulled the injured one up, “ ….yeah. I guess it looked kinda like..when I was stuck in the…well, I guess you know,”

“ Yeah. I know,” Raph murmured.

It was quiet again for a moment, the sound of a Lou Jitsu fight playing on the screen, cheesy sound effects and all.

He cleared his throat. He was going to regret this, but Leo didn't seem anymore tense than before.

“ You had a nightmare the second day, too,” He murmured, “ that's why Donnie's set up all these crazy precautions and stuff. We didn't want you gettin' scared and runnin' away again…gettin’ hurt bad again,”

Leo was looking at him. He wasn't looking st his brother, but he could see Leo's gaze on him in his peripherals. Raph couldn’t tell what expression he was making, but he hoped it wasn't scared. He didn't want to see Leo scared anymore.

“ …oh. Right. That makes sense..” Leo murmured, “ you guys didn't mention that in the video, I- I didn't know that happened….”

“ um…”

Raph didn't move. Leo put a hand on his arm, “ Look, I'm real sorry about running before…i mean, I really wanted to rjn in this morning, don't get me wrong, but…maybe…i mean this makes some sense, ya know?”

Raph blinked. It was one of the only genuine apologues he'd heard coming from Leo. And he was totally lucid, unlike after the invasion when he'd-

Don't think about that, Raph. Don't thjk about that right noe.

“ H-hey, that's okay. I mean, I'da been scared and run off, too,” Raph chuckled, “ a big guy like me comin' in and wakin' you up after a nightmare, I mean, it'd scare anyone”

Leo chuckled and gave him a little pat, “You’re not scary, Raph. From what I can tell, you're just a big ole softie,”

Leo yawned, stretching his arms up and relaxing back into the cushions, “ I'll bet you wouldn't hurt a fly”

Raph had been so happy and relieved to hear the first statement that the second one hit like a ton of bricks. He was going to be sick.

If only Leo knew. If only he knew what Raph had done. Both when he was under the influence of the krang and when he wasn't. Leo would be so scared of him. He should be so scared of him.

Raph felt like he couldn't move. Not a muscle. He couldn't move or else he'd break whatever trust Leo had in him because if he moved, Leo would know. He'd know to be afraid of Raph. He'd know he wasn't safe like this, not with Raph.

So he didn't. He sat there and stared through the projector screen, afraid to move or think or breathe. Afraid to even look at Leo again.

And eventually, Leo scooted closer and closer, sleepily burying his face in his arm and murmuring that he trusted him. He trusted Raph. And that he was just going to take a little nap if that was okay.

Raph didn't move a muscle.

---

I feel like I'm maybe not as good at writing Raph POV so this was interesting to do. I just find his POV difficult cause I having practiced it as much is all.

Anyway he's got a lot of conflicted feelings cause on one hand he wants Leo to trust him more than anything but on the other all he's done lately is hurt Leo and Leo doesn't even KNOW.

Anyway enjoy, I'm queuing this and I will add links later cause I'm sleepy

Part 1 | Part 21 | Part 23

#rottmnt #art #fanart #digital art #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt leo #comic #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt comic #rottmnt art #fanfic #50au #rottmnt 50au

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