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loliwrites · 4 months

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The One You Need | five

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, unannounced visitors, actual daddy issues, dysfunctional parental relationship, SMUT, brief oral [m receiving], fingering, unprotected p in v sex, general manhandling, spanking, hair pulling, choking, joel’s a closer, sweet soft aftercare, terms of endearment [sweetheart, pretty girl], female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.4k joel miller masterlist | part four a/n: happy new years eve hunni buns! lets usher this year out and the new one in with a bang. literally and figuratively.

Joel took a long, deep breath and held it as he stretched his legs, knees cracking with the tension. He released the breath and relaxed his sore body all at the same time. His lower back was screaming with tightness. The sort that ensured he knew he was no longer as young as he once had been. The kind that told him he never would be again.

Blinking languidly and taking an extra moment to get himself awake, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. It took a couple seconds, and the sight of the stray bolt on the nightstand, until he remembered where he was. In your home. With you. He turned over to lay his gaze upon you; to catch you sleeping. But getting onto his back, quickly noticed that you were no longer in bed beside him. For long enough by this point for your side to have grown cold in the morning air. Joel glanced at the clock unhurriedly. 7:54. Far later than was normal for him. Though partaking in the activities from the previous night hadn’t been normal in his recent history either.

He got out of bed cautiously so as to not aggravate an already angry back. A groan ripped through his chest when he bent over to grab his jeans and slid them up his legs, opting to leave them unzipped and unbuttoned around his hips as he strode for the bedroom door. All seemed quiet in the house, save for the knocking of some cabinets and silverware. Joel yawned and rubbed his eye with his fist, afterward trailing that hand up to his skewed hair for a scratch. He found you with the noise. Back to him, in front of the coffee machine, with a line of cups in front of you.

Approaching silently, you made no notion of being aware he was there until a hand laid upon your ass. Lips followed suit to the side of your head.

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice deep and gravelly. He squeezed his fingers into the flesh of your backside where you’d traded in being naked for his t-shirt and a pair of cotton pants.

“Hand off ass,” you grimaced through your teeth.

He pulled his hand away and held it up as innocently as possible, staring down at you with a worried gaze. What had happened between late last night and early this morning?

“What’s wrong?”

You huffed and let your shoulders sag. Maybe if you collapsed to the floor, everyone would just leave your house and you could carry on with life. But Joel replaced his hand on you, this time on your mid-back and you only tensed up a little, though was sure he noticed. “My mom and dad are here,”

Joel turned his head to the side as subtly he could muster and snuck a peek of a pair of men’s shoes in the living room he’d never seen before. He looked back at you, “take it we’re not happy about their arrival,”

A glare in his direction was answer enough. “I left because of them,”

He nodded as if assuring you that he needed no explanation. “I’ll get out of your hair. Come ‘round when they leave,”

“No, don’t go,” you rested your hands on his stomach. “They might behave better if someone else is in the house,”

He let out a breath and seemed to look down at you, authoritatively. You were leaving him in a bit of a situation – if only because you were currently in the shirt he’d come over in. “Still got my other shirt you stole?”

“I didn’t steal it!”

He let out a low hmph.

“It’s in my dresser. Middle drawer on the left,”

If you’d seen it coming, or had any inclination of it, you probably would’ve resisted, but when Joel leaned in to kiss you, it caught you so off guard that you had no other instinct than to kiss him back. To allow his lips to brush over yours softly at first, and then find their placing with more force. A clear sign to any potential onlookers that this is where I belong, against her lips.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Sitting across from your parents reminded you of every reason why you’d left, and reignited feelings in your body you thought you’d banished after moving away and creating your own little world here. Granted it had only been a month, but your body had felt lighter, your mind freer. Nothing like mom and dad to get you back to feeling inadequate and insignificant. You knew they loved you. Sure of it. But dad was loud and mom was… weak. And from it was born every fucked up conception and fear you had of relationships. Mom and dad made relationships look like a thing to avoid like the plague. To ward them off any way you could. No price was too large if it meant keeping someone at bay. Someone who may know the dark and scary things about you and then eventually use them against you without so much as a breath or a blink of an eye. To willingly show someone your weaknesses knowing they would inevitably stab you in the back with them…? Why would anyone want a relationship?

It was some point within your father’s rant of how your home was just okay – “I mean, this isn’t what I would’ve done. I would’ve changed this… this is falling apart… you spent how much? For this…?” – that you realized Joel had apparently made himself mighty comfortable in your bedroom. Safely stowed away behind a closed door. Not that you wanted to subject him to the horrors that were the humans who gave you life, but if he’d at least make his earthly presence known, maybe your dad would cool the fuck off.

“For that price you could’ve found something a little nicer somewhere in the valley.” Your dad continued on one of his rants that you’d learned to tune out. Picked at an invisible fuzz on the shirt you wore. “No use coming out here. I’m sure peak summer’s just about the most awful thing. And winter? Gonna be miserable…”

The clearing of a throat saved you. Lifted you from this realm and tossed you into a different one. A better one. All three of you looked up at the same time, but only you smiled when you laid eyes upon Joel standing in the threshold. Arms dangling at his sides, almost uncomfortable with their lack of something to do.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he glanced at your father, not giving heads or tails of what he was really thinking. He took a couple steps into the room, jutting his thumb back over his shoulder, “gotta grab some stuff from my place to fix your door.”

You hopped up from your seat and met him halfway. “I have tools,” sounding too eager to keep him on the perimeter of your property.

“As much as I love that floral screwdriver, it’s gonna take a bit more,” he pursed his lips together, eyes darting over your face to pick up any intricacies of your expression. “Y’good?”

A nod was all you could muster. A weak thing that bowed your head until your eyeline was even with Joel’s chest. You’d turn back to your parents as soon as he turned to leave, but not a moment before then. Why return to that when you could live here for just a little bit longer, almost like you could pretend they weren’t there at all. And in the pause, Joel lifted a hand and curled it to the back of your neck, fingers pressing against skin to inch you closer to him. Just close enough for him to lay a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lingered there with a deep inhale. And having grown uncomfortable with the closeness and perceived intimacy in front of your parents, you pulled away and looked up at him.

You weren’t sure what he was thinking at that moment. Wasn’t sure of his game plan or endgame. But in the split-second you pulled away from his lips on your forehead, he leaned back in and pressed a quick peck to your lips. And his slight smirk after he stood back to his full height and left was all you needed to see. He’s gonna get the shit slapped out of him.

The front door clicked back in place before you turned back toward your parents to face the questions you knew were coming.

“Who was that?” Your mom asked. She speaks! She breathes! She lives!

“The handyman,”

“You kiss your handyman?” Good question, dad.

“He’s also my neighbor,”

“You kiss your neighbors?”

Instead of answering and opting to sit back down, it gave your dad time to interject yet again.

“He’s kind of old,”

“What’re you doing here? I’d appreciate a heads up,”

Your mom sat forward, “sweetheart, we just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Somehow that name didn’t sound as nice as it did when it came off of Joel’s tongue. And you also knew that wasn’t entirely it. They hadn’t cared to stop by and see how you were doing when you lived in the same town as them. Never dropped in to check out your apartment there. Really you knew it was because the version of you they once held so much control over had slipped away. And with the distance from your move, it seemed that you’d slipped away entirely. Despite dad’s total lack of emotion and mom’s “woe-is-me” attitude, you knew they knew it, too. You’d never be coming back to “old home”.

The front door creaked back open and you turned your head to watch the newcomer who went to great lengths to avoid eye contact. He’d changed out of the t-shirt and into a green flannel, the sleeves halfway rolled up and his renewed presence only halted your dad momentarily from talking about himself.

A fleeting thought passed through your brain about what Joel thought of all this. Did he think you were being too hard on your family? Did he think they were absolute nuts? Did he get why the choice between staying or uprooting your life was an easy one? But mostly you thought about how you didn’t want him to think differently of you because of your parents. You didn’t want him to see shades of you in them and have that change his perception. They were never meant to be here. And you’d moved across the country to have a better chance at that being reality.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Despite many failed attempts, you finally urged your parents out of the house come evening by insisting there were a few work deadlines you were behind on. Work was always the perfect excuse because they never care to understand what it was you did anyway. They made a half-hearted mention about swinging by tomorrow before their flight, but you made up another excuse about work and knew they wouldn’t fight it. You locked the door behind them and turned, coming face to face with Joel, who stood a few feet away from you, twirling the oven bolt in his fingers.

The only thing you knew to do was take a breath, so you did. Let it sit and linger in your chest hoping he’d be the one to break the silence.

“Back door’s fixed,”

Ever the gentleman.

With a grateful nod, you approached him. The urge to slap him silly had worn off – long after your parents had grown inquisitive of him. You bowed your head forward and rested it against his chest; the feel of his heartbeat serving as a new exercise in grounding. He wrapped an arm around you, hand settling on your ass again, pride swelling in him when you didn’t reprimand it away as you had earlier.

“You wanna talk about it?” A pause was punctuated with his fingers squeezing your backside. Keeping your head firmly against his chest, you shook it. “Y’wanna help me fix your oven?” Another pause was met with another shake of your head and the laugh that rumbled through Joel’s chest was almost enough to pull you out of the funk your parents had put you into. “How ‘bout you keep me company then, while I get to fixin’ it,”

And that you could agree to. Though not before a kiss to try and make everything better. For the first time that day, despite having spent a fantastic night together, a real, substantial kiss was able to take place. Lips meeting and parting in sync, tongues hesitant until they met each other. Even then, they remained even-paced. Like the unhurried, practiced ministrations of old lovers.

He pulled away first despite a groan from you, and took your hand, leading you into the kitchen. You made for the counter and hopped up on it to supervise while he went straight for the next appliance to fix. As he bent down and opened the oven door, inspecting some of the places the bolt could’ve come from, you wondered how much money you would’ve lost at this point had he not insert himself in your life. First with your bed, then the fridge, and the back door, and now this.

“Y’know, come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to work.”

You blinked, realizing you’d zoned out, staring at his ass. You furrowed your eyebrows, “are you implying I don’t have a job, Miller?”

“No, no. Jus’ implyin’ you’re not very good at it,” he shot you a smile. Only a momentary shift in his focus. Long enough to rile you but not long enough for you to respond before he looked back at the oven and wordlessly set the bolt at what looked to be a hole in the hinge to the oven door missing the exact part.

“I’m a copywriter,” you mused, watching as he plucked a screwdriver (one much larger and serious looking than your floral one) from his toolbox.

He started to tighten the bolt into the hole. “Oh yeah? ‘S’pretty cool,”

“Boring,”

Joel gave the bolt a couple more turns with the screwdriver before it was tightened to his liking. He sat back on his knees and closed the oven door. Fixed. “Well it got you this house, so…”

You nodded in agreement. That job had gotten you everything you’d ever wanted. A house of your own far, far away from blood relatives. A sanctuary. Peace. It had even gotten you something you didn’t think you wanted. A ridiculously attractive, handy neighbor.

Joel was back in front of you then. Hands resting on your thighs, he made a spot for himself between your legs. With you on the counter, he now found you at his height, and lowered his forehead against yours. “You wanna go out and get some dinner with me,”

Arms reached forward and wrapped around his shoulders, “when?”

“Tonight. Now,” he smirked and lifted his head just enough to place a gentle kiss to your forehead, “ya nut.”

“Like a date?”

Now he fully leaned back and cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what was the right answer here. If he said yes, would you read far too into it and climb back into the shell he’d been working you out of? And if he said no, would you be disappointed that he didn’t want to be seen with you in public in that way? As he had done with everything thus far, he decided to go with the truth. Worst case scenario, he’d have to call you out and set you back in line. “Yes,”

And you only nodded. Your arms squeezed over his shoulders, fingertips pressing into the rippling muscles of his back. Surely a date with Joel Miller would be leaps and bounds better than your last date. “Could you do me a favor first?”

Joel smiled. His eyes flicked from yours, up to the top of your head where a piece of hair was threatening to fall loose and dangle in your eyeline. With deft fingertips, he brushed it back and nodded.

“Can you rail me?”

“Are people still saying ‘railed’?” He chuckled and stepped in closer, between your thighs. Hands grabbed on to them with intention.

This time you were the one to push your fingers through his hair, combing through those graying curls. “I think that’s the best adjective for what I want,”

“Yeah?” He studied you, not needing to search too far to realize there was a correlation between the torrid thoughts in your head about your parents, and you wanting him to knock them out. “I think I might be able to do that,” he grinned, partially disheartened. There was doubt on his end whether his body would fail that specific task after the day he’d spent bent over fixing your back door. “Might have to cut an old man some slack,”

You smiled softly and brushed your fingers through his hair again. With a nod and the hooking of your ankles around his back to cage him between your thighs, you planted a kiss to his lips. Just a chaste little thing to kick things off, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he opted to take the reins. But there was still one territory you had yet to venture into: the blowjob. And perhaps that wasn’t necessarily the go-to first step on the road to getting railed, but you were anxious to check it off the list. A nervousness bubbling at the surface even as you pressed against his stomach and inched him a couple steps back. In your eyes you had every right to be. Though you’d never been flat out told you were bad at it, it was never high on your list of pleasurable things to do and you were sure your general lack of enthusiasm around the act was picked up on by the men on the receiving end. Yet in this moment, you still knelt to the floor in front of him, hands fumbling with his jeans as the nerves manifested by causing your fingers to tremble.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to,” Joel whispered, undoubtedly picking up on your anxiety. He even covered your hands with one of his, giving the permission to stop.

The out was appreciated but it didn’t keep you from the task you’d put yourself to. Despite his hands in the way, you managed to unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down with skill you didn’t even know you had. “I want to,”

“Y’sure?”

You tilted your head to the side and glanced up at him. That’s all it took. Because you both knew you wouldn’t have gotten on your knees in the first place if you hadn’t genuinely wanted to be there. And before you lost the nerve to remain there, you nudged his pants down over his ass. Quiet giggles of contentment emanating from you when his hands joined in the fun and helped push the jeans down his thighs and past his knees. Now confronted with a growing (literally) situation, it was impossible for you to subdue the involuntary shiver that ran up your spine and attacked every inch of your body. You tried to dispel it by reaching for Joel’s member; the outline of it straining against his boxer briefs. But that sort of luck wasn’t on your side. Had never been on your side. And every boy you’d ever found yourself in this situation with never so much as blinked an eye before they pushed themselves into your mouth.

But this man in front of you. He was steadfastly attuned to you. Picking up on every single one of the cues. At the sight of your entire body shivering, Joel lowered his hand to the side of your face and brushed your hair away from it. He cupped your jaw and tilted your chin up until you looked up at him again. Waiting for him, you raised a hand and traced the outline of his cock in his underwear, giving it a gentle squeeze after your fingers had run its length.

“Don’t stay down there too long,” he said with a smirk, and catching your questioning look, he glided the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. “I’m not gonna last,”

You tried to suppress a smile so as to not give him any ideas that you were going to mock him for it. The truth couldn’t be further from that. In actuality, you were flattered by the admission, and more than a little thankful that it seemed to serve as another out for you. You’d get to cross something off whatever list you’d made up in your mind, but wouldn’t have to be committed to be at it for very long. That somehow seemed to relieve some of the pressure you’d put on yourself.

“Get to work, pretty girl,” he murmured, taking you out of whatever inner monologue had you so preoccupied. “Just a taste,”

Focused back at his waist, you peeled back his underwear, reaching in with your free hand to take him out of the tight fabric. It wasn’t the first time you were seeing the sheer size of him but being on it face first now made it seem that much bigger. How you ever managed to fit it inside you was one thing. How you’d fit it in your mouth was another. Yet you started on, pressing your lips to the underside of the head softly, and moving down his length with brief kisses. Joel let out a deep breath through his nose and let his fingertips toy with your hair. You hadn’t noticed that his eyes were glued to you until you looked up at him and caught his stare. Opening your mouth and purposefully batting your eyelashes, you took him into your mouth and let your tongue swirl around the crown. It was the first thing you did that made Joel let out a throaty groan. So you repeated the action and got the same lusty response from him.

“That’s good, sweetheart,”

Your mouth stretched wider around him to accommodate a smile, but then you gently shook your head side to side, working your lips lower and lower on his shaft. At about halfway, you realized there was no shot of taking him in his entirety. The temptation to gag was already there and you lifted your hands to the remainder of his length to help along. But then you felt one of Joel’s hands migrate to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, and your body stiffened on instinct. Flicking your eyes upward and catching Joel with his head tilted back and jaw slack, you kept your body stiff, trying to work through that impact. Then you closed your eyes hoping that if you couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t see you, and the fear growing in your gut would dissipate.

Maybe it was the tension in your jaw. Maybe he picked up on the tension in your entire body. Regardless, his fingers, albeit still tangled in your hair, seemed to grow gentler. A lack of pressure while still being present. “‘M’not gonna push you down on it,”

Eyes flicked back open to inspect him. A pink hue had arisen in his neck and was working its way up to his cheeks. His nostrils flared in his damnedest attempt to keep himself from thrusting deeper down your throat. Catching that his words were the truth, you relaxed once again; the anxiety fleeing every fiber of your being. Consciously back in your body and picking back up where you’d left off, you tilted your head to the side, allowing the head of his cock to press along the inside of your cheek. The sight of your mouth stretched to accommodate him resulted in a low pitched growl from Joel. Something terribly needy. Hungry.

You noticed his eyes flutter shut while the muscles in his stomach flexed and released in a steady procession. The sinew in his forearm flexed, too, with the clenching of his fist in your hair. And given slightly more freedom by the lack of eye contact, you pulled your lips off his shaft and replaced it with quick, sloppy strokes from your hand. Your mouth was not far from him for long. Lips navigating around the way your hand held his member up, you pressed them to his balls and smirked to yourself when you saw the way his body responded when you eventually rolled your tongue over them, paying each temporary attention.

Joel kept his promise and didn’t use his grip on your hair to press you down on him, but did use it in order to pull you off of him. Your swollen lips fell open when you were forced to stare up at him, his chest heaving like his heart was trying to break free from its cage.

“That’s enough,” he growled and all but lifted you back to your feet without any help from you.

It took him no time at all to spin you around with ass pressed back against the edge of the counter. He set one hand on the granite top behind you and cupped the other down past the waistband of your cotton pants. His fingers found your clit with practiced ease. A move he’d obviously spent the better half of his life perfecting. And no sooner did his fingers trail along your slit, your lips met each other with fervor. The barrier of your parents for the most of the day had created a feeding frenzy between you. Neither able to get as much as you wanted fast enough. Mashing of lips and tongues. Teeth grazing against soft, plush skin. You were all erratic movements and whimpering pleas to keep going. Only when Joel pressed two fingers inside of you did your mouth drop open, causing a delay. An airy gasp floated out of your lungs and into the space between.

Joel dropped his forehead to yours, eyes piercing into you though you weren’t returning his gaze. How could you? Fingers down to their last knuckle had you squeezing your eyes shut and doing your absolute best to not become a trembling mess then and there.

“Please… please,” you sobbed, fingernails digging into his back. You knew crescent-shaped marks would be littering his skin despite the flannel. You were marking him. Yours for now. Yours for tonight.

An almost sadistic smile crossed Joel’s lips. Fingers curled inside of you and sent you lurching forward, wrapping up against his chest. Legs already shaking and squeezing shut around his hand. “Look at you. Already begging f’me,” he lowered himself just enough to tuck his head to your neck, leaving love bites on your skin. “Suckin’ my cock got you so wet. Already desperate for it,”

“Joel,”

“Tell me,”

You raised your hips into the heel of his palm, finding that friction on your clit was just about the last thing you needed to get to the first climax of the evening. Fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, tugging him close as if that was going to be the thing that’d get him to keep his fingers inside you. Really, you knew he didn’t have any intention of letting you go without them. But the new closeness, and the way he towered over you, a looming presence with broad, square shoulders diminishing any size you might’ve had… and the smell of him… You came with a whimper, unable to have forewarned him of the spring being snapped inside you. His fingers slowed only enough so as to not hurt you but never stopped entirely. Even when you tried to wriggle away from him, overstimulated. He just curled his fingers inside of you again, against the spongy front of your throbbing core, and kept you right at the edge you’d just fallen over.

“Please–God, please, fuck me,” you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his shaft again, tugging and stroking him impatiently.

“I know that mouth can do better than that,” he mocked. “Tell me,”

You could cry, wanting something far more substantial inside you than two of his fingers. “I need it, Joel. Please,” stinging tears threatened to fall from the corners of your eyes. “Want you to bend me over and fuck me,” you figured you were on the right track when he slowly eased his fingers out of your dripping hole and replaced them with quick circles over your bundle of sensitive nerves. “Want you to make it hurt,”

While to you, you didn’t notice any hesitation on Joel’s end. He just spun you around and bent you over the countertop. He kicked your feet out from under you until you were being held up solely by the counter and the press of his hips. But he had clocked your words. Make it hurt. Knew he wanted to remember that. Knew he wanted to talk about that at some later time.

Make it hurt.

He grabbed your wrists and secured them behind your back with one of his hands while his other went to the base of his cock and notched it at your entrance. Still dripping from your first orgasm, it was enough to not notice the stretch from the head too greatly. But then he moved that hand to the back of your head and pressed against it, holding you down on the countertop. You were defenseless. Unable to move at all. Hands rendered useless and body being held in place for every one of his whims. And there wasn’t any time to process before he snapped his hips forward and buried himself inside you to the hilt. Bottomed out in one fell swoop. A scream erupted from your throat, very nearly feeling like your vocal cords would be on their way to being shredded. Joel shushed you; a hiss between clenched teeth, only giving a second for your string of loud breaths to sound a little less pained before he began to move, stretching you to the max with each drag and push.

It didn’t take long for those screams and breaths to quiet down to nothing. Just a mouth gaping open, sucking wind as his length rubbed against the deepest parts of you. He wasn’t holding back. He was doing just as you’d asked. He was making it hurt. But your quietness was thwarted by his hand coming down hard against your ass. It was only then that you’d realized he’d removed it from the back of your head. A deep gasp filled your lungs with fresh air. The smack had left a sting and burn on your skin, and the returned noise from you spurred Joel on.

He landed another spank to the opposite cheek, flesh bouncing beneath it from both his hand and the press of his cock. “You like that, huh?” Another spank, this time his hand didn’t pull away on the impact, and instead his fingers dug into your fleshy backside, “look even prettier with my handprint on ya’.” His hips faltered, progress stuttered when you clenched around him, pulling him deeper. He used that momentum to lean forward and bite into the back of your shoulder, “good fuckin’ girl. So fuckin’ tight. Love it so much,”

“It’s yours,” you panted, legs having gone completely out beneath you. You were sure you’d crumble to the floor if he parted from you. Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“Hmm?” he hummed, burying his face in the back of your head, “I’m gonna come.”

“I’m yours. It’s all yours,”

A particularly hard thrust squished you against the counter, your hipbone colliding with it. You yelped and you weren’t sure if it was from the painful impact on your hip or the feeling of Joel spilling into you. He kept himself deep. Short thrusts to fill you with his spend, and only once he’d finished pushing it into you as deep as he could, did he pull out. Though you hadn’t come, you felt well-fucked despite it. Not even missing the rush of a second orgasm. But no sooner had he pulled out, were you being whirled around, facing him now; your ass notched at the cool, stone countertop. He stared endlessly into your eyes and pushed himself back inside you without a second thought. Only when he’d sheathed himself in completely and caught your off-kilter expression, did he move his hand up to your neck, fingers squeezing either side of it.

“Didn’t think we were done, did you, sweetheart?” He squeezed your neck a little tighter and you reached up to hold onto his wrist. You applied no pressure to get him to loosen his grip, just kept it there for the contact. “I know this pussy’s got one more orgasm in her,”

A guttural moan left your body. The new angle was far more conducive to your pleasure. The base of him rubbing up against your clit. Your eyes blinked languidly, threatening to stay closed, but Joel used his grasp on your neck to shake you. Once your eyes fully opened again, he brought his free hand to the back of your head and gave your hair a generous tug.

“C’mon, pretty girl. You can do it. Soak me,”

He mashed his lips back to yours and licked his way into your mouth. It was everything you wanted. Needed. The overwhelmingness of his size. The dominance. The control. Your walls fluttered around him and he urged you on some more. Words of encouragement matched by the strengthening of his hold on your throat or the one in your hair. And when you came, eyes drifting shut and remaining so, body convulsing and squeezing his length, you felt his hands loosening their hold on you. Not leaving completely, but certainly not applying any type of pressure as they had just previously been.

Your body went limp in his arms. Had it not been for your heavy breaths, he might’ve thought he’d done some actual damage. But your breaths were trying to grow steadier and were mixed with the whimpers of someone who’d asked for one thing, had gotten it, and now needed something else entirely.

Joel pressed his lips to the side of your head, lingering against your temple as he carefully stepped out of his pants and underwear that had bunched up at his ankles. You groaned at the soft jostling it created for, and Joel just hushed you and tucked his arms around your back and beneath your knees. He lifted you up and kept you cradled to his chest where you complained again. This time a quick mention of his back.

“I got’cha, sweetheart,” he bounced you in his arms just once to get a better hold on your body. “Don’t worry about it,”

Eyes completely shut, too heavy to keep them open for very long, you knew he was carrying you to the bathroom. This man and your pH balance. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on to him as tightly as you could, wanting no amount of separation. But before you knew it, you felt the cold porcelain of the toilet beneath you. Joel’s hands uncurling your arms from around his neck, then moving to the hem of your shirt and pulling it off, over your head. Soon thereafter, he unhooked your bra and slid it off your arms.

Concern started to work its way into Joel’s bones. The sight of you, nearly swaying to the side when he released you completely. He made quick work of turning the shower on, fearing you’d topple to the side and hit your head on the way down. Returning to you with urgency, he crouched down and brushed your hair away from your neck, searching for any marks he’d left behind. “Y’alright?” He whispered, finding some red patches on your skin but none too definitive to be seen as marks from his fingers.

Eyes still closed, you pressed a smile, “good.” You blinked your tired eyes open, looking down at your feet as Joel unraveled your pants from around your ankles that had been hanging on by a thread. “You hurt me like I asked you to,”

His eyes flicked up to you. Make it hurt. The words he was holding onto. He held onto these new ones too, keeping them for later. “Maybe too much,” he murmured, gathering a wipe from on top of the toilet tank.

“No,”

Though you’d said it in earnest, he had a hard time believing it. Your eyes were mostly closed. But his eyes were seeing all the consequences of the way he’d handled you. Thinking better of fighting you on that, he helped you up from the toilet. His body kept you upright while he wiped along your slit, cleaning up the mess he’d so haphazardly made. You were pliant in his arms, willing to trust that he’d take care of you as he always had, despite the new territory you’d ventured into today with each other.

He led you to the shower and carefully peeled his flannel shirt from his body while helping maintain your balance. As he helped you in and kept his chest flush to your back, he caught sight of the bruise forming on the left side of your hip and knew it had been his doing. Easing down to the floor, both sat at the end of the steady stream of water, warm against you both from the shower and from Joel’s body heat. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, turning in toward his neck.

“Sure you’re alright?” He set his cheek down on top of your head and wrapped his arms around you, “I marked you up pretty good.”

“I’m okay,” you insisted. “I don’t break easily,”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

Now with open eyes, you tilted your head back and looked up at him. Your smile caught his worried expression and you hoped to dispel it. He’d only done as you asked. And so perfectly so. Maybe he’d ask you about it somewhere down the line. Why you’d asked him to make it hurt? Why had that been the chosen wording? It was evident in his eyes now that he likely wouldn’t be so accommodating to comply the next time you asked him to make it hurt. Yet you raised your hands and curled them behind his head to get him closer to you. Close enough to kiss. Slowly. Tenderly. Quiet assurance that he was still the good man you knew him to be.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the one you need

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sweetenerobert · 3 months

Text

stuck in the elevator

4.1k / dark!bfd!joel miller x sunshine!male reader

summary: a visit to sarah at college with her dad turns different after you both get trapped in an elevator

warnings: dead dove/do not eat, DARK!Joel, strong language, pwp, age gap (reader is 21, joel is in his 40s), joel asks for consent (you’re a bit hesitant), dirty talk, fingering, scent kink (if you tilt your head and squint), spanking, unprotected p in a, biting, creampie, hair grabbing (no physical description of hair type/hair length), joel’s body pressing up against you (trapping you in a sense), pet names (baby, angel, son), joel has an exhibition kink, no use of m/n or y/n

my brain was rotting after @toxicanonymity answered this anon and i just had to write this.

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You didn’t expect a quick visit to Sarah’s college would end up with you and her father, Joel, becoming stuck in a dark elevator — emergency lights gleaming down on the both of you.

It was supposed to be a quick and easy visit; you and Sarah would converse with each other — Joel joining in on occasion, talking about classes, the friends she’d made, and overall her experience at college. As you both were leaving, you could tell Joel’s knees were bothering him, so you decided to grab the elevator that brought you both to the ground floor, but you never expected the elevator to stop midway down.

Were you frightened? Yes. But Joel banging on the door wasn't banging on the door wasn't making your nerves calm down any faster. You hugged your arms around you as a way of comfort as you just heard Joel’s yells and cries being — practically ignored as his hands banged against the metal surface.

You’d hit the emergency button, but no answer on the other side came through. You were nervous; you’d never been in a situation where you had been stuck in such a confined space, especially with someone’s powerful voice like Joel’s.

“Hey! Can anybody hear me? We‘re trapped in this fuckin’ thing!” Joel yelled.

“Joel?” You called out. Joel ignored you and continued banging on the metal doors. “Hello,” Joel exclaimed, banging his fist on the door. “Joel?” You tried again.

“I swear to fuckin’ Christ, I’ll rip these fuckin’ doors apart—” You got off the rail you were leaning on and walked to Joel’s position behind him, quickly whipping him around for him to stare at you. “Joel!”

“What?” Joel quickly snapped, causing you to jump back, being spooked by how powerful his voice was. “Shit, sorry, son.” Joel reassured you. “I just want to get out of here.”

“We will; we just gotta be patient,” You nodded. “Do you get claustrophobic in small spaces?”

Joel turned around, placing his hands on the metal doors sprawled out, breathing strenuously — as if he were going to pass out. You noticed the veins bulging from his head and neck; you were worried about how stressed he looked; his veins might burst.

“No, nothin’ like that, son.”

Well, now you were confused. You were confused about why Joel was currently so mysterious and different from when you both drove here and when you were in Sarah’s dorm room earlier.

“Then what's the problem? Because it looks like you’re about to burst another minute that you’re in here.”

Joel didn't know what to tell you; his cock was itching against the denim of his jeans, and he couldn't face the person who made him feel this way. When you first rushed in the truck, smiling all gleefully — bouncing in his passenger seat, Joel’s cock was getting hard, and he couldn't understand why.

Hearing you sing along to some of the songs you knew either in your head or when the radio played, Joel wanted to pull over and fuck you so he could hear the moans that would escape your lips.

He wanted to hear you scream his name with his cock sliding in deeper with each push and thrust, wanting to make you cum from his cock. And the fact now that Joel can't escape the elevator that he so badly wants to, he’s trapped with the one person he desperately wants to get away from.

Joel knew that it would fuck everything up if Sarah found out that he fucked her best friend, and Joel never wanted to be selfish, but Joel yearned to touch you, make himself feel good, and hear what he so desperately craved.

You swore the elevator got darker as Joel slowly turned around, like a villain in a movie revealing himself. It was like a switch had gone off in Joel as he stepped closer to you while you stepped back as a pure reflex; with each step Joel took, you stepped back. Your back felt the cold rail you were leaning on moments prior.

Joel’s hands were on each side of your head — preventing you from escaping the trap he’d put you in. Your breathing shuddered, and it showed as Joel slid his hands down from the wall to your bottom lip and traced his thumb over your skin, making your body feel clammy.

After your breathing had returned to normal, Joel brought his hand up on the wall and moved his head next to yours, making you feel nervous and uneasy. You’ve never felt this way about Joel before.

You’ve known him for a while, and it was always a good time to be around him; he never made you feel like you couldn't talk to him about anything you couldn’t talk to your parents about. So, seeing Joel’s behavior drift suddenly made you feel small and easy to destroy.

You felt Joel’s warm breath against the cartilage of your ear; you tightened your knuckles in a fist, trying to calm yourself down. “You, son. You’re the problem.”

Your best friend’s dad’s statement had caught you off guard. “W-what?”

“You’re too fuckin’ perfect; smell fuckin’ amazing,” Joel growls in your ear. He moves his head towards your neck and takes a long and drastic inhale, making goosebumps litter the back of your neck and spine.

“J-Joel, what — why are you saying these things?”

“My cock is so fuckin’ hard, baby. And your talking is making my cock hurt even more.”

You wanted to keep talking; you were beyond perplexed at the situation. You had no idea what to do; the man whom you once felt comfortable made the situation you both were currently in a thousand times worse.

His hand slid from the wall onto your waist — making your skin shudder. “J-Joel, I- I don’t -”

“Please baby, lemme fuck you; I-I promise nothin’’ll change. My cock is just desperate for you, baby.”

“Joel, please think about what you’re saying.”

“I’have, c’mon baby, please?”

Joel’s hand on your waist made your skin draw cold — made you feel like you had been stuck in a block of ice. You’d finally understood now why Joel wanted to leave the elevator faster. He was holding restraint while revealing his true emotions.

You glanced up at Joel, seeing desperation underneath his eyes; you didn’t know what to say, so your mouth just opened while your brain had just shut off.

“If we do this? Nothing will change?” You question.

Joel nods. “I swear, baby. Nothin’ll change.”

You release a small puff of air you didn't realize you were holding in. “Okay, I- I’ll do it, Joel.”

Your best friend's dad wasted no time smashing his lips against yours. You were surprised by how hungry Joel’s kisses were. It surprised you that his lips could barely stay on top of yours. Your hands were not even connecting with Joel’s body; that's how surprised you were. Joel’s hand on your waist slid down to your inner knee; he hoists your knee up so it's around his waist.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. You taste amazin’,” Joel growled.

Planting your hands on Joel’s curls, you can't help but reflexively slide your hands through his curls. This felt right — kissing your best friend’s dad to help get him through what he was feeling. You didn't know what was going through Joel’s head, but you were happy to help him.

Joel’s hungry kisses trail down to your neck, and you can't help when but moan, with your moans bouncing off the metal walls of the elevator. “Fucking, shit, Joel,” You exclaim. You felt Joel’s teeth against your neck; you hissed in retaliation. “Fuck, baby. I’wanna eat ya’; you taste like heaven.”

You feel Joel’s hips grind against your throbbing cock, you feel like Joel could make you cum with him rubbing his denim-covered cock, and it made you feel a way you didn't know how to explain. “You feel how hard I am for ya, baby?”

Any clear and rational thought left your head, but your mouth couldn't say anything. “Mhm,” You nodded.

Joel’s slow grinds became rougher as you felt your body connect with the wall behind you. Moaning and gasps escape your lips as Joel’s hips slam into your own. “C’mon, angel. Use your words.” Your mouth quickly opened, and you just spoke whatever. “Yes, Joel. I feel how hard you are.”

“There ya’ go baby,” Joel growled. You feel Joel smashing his lips against yours. Then feel your leg drop as your hands rise, ultimately feeling your wrists on each other — above your head.

Joel’s iron grip on your wrist made your legs squirm as your dick was rubbing against your pants. Each kiss, every breath you breathed, and hearing Joel’a shuddering breathes through his nose made your cock want to explode in this unexplainable way. Back his head away from yours, you open your eyes, seeing a grin on Joel’s face. “Turn around, baby.”

With your hands above your head, you turn around, now with your palms on the wall before you — Joel’s tight grip never losing strength. You feel your pants feel loose as Joel slides them down with a few tugs with one hand. Your dick throbs away from its prison, your balls shrivel up, and thighs get a cold sensation littering the lower half of your body. “Y’have the best ass I've ever seen, baby,” Joel grunts as his hand comes across your ass, causing you to yelp.

Joel’s free hand has your ass in a grip that is similar to the hold on your wrists. His thick fingers tease the bend of your ass as you feel his finger pads slide up and down, causing you to squirm. “Don’t have to squirm, baby.”

“Can’t help it, your hands are cold,” You grit.

“Than I better warm them up for you.”

In one motion, Jole hooks in fingers on the inside of your cheek, causing the back of your throat to get that rush of cold air the bottom half of your body was feeling.

Swirling his fingers around the inside of your cheek, your palms start to clam up, and you swear your palms slide a bit. Suddenly, his fingers slide out of your mouth — a line of saliva liters your cheek. Wet-saliva-covered fingers of Joel’s slide into the bend of your ass and your asshole. Gasping, you bear your teeth and squirm while Joel’s fingers swim inside you.

“Is that warm enough for ya?”

The answer couldn't form from your mouth as Joel’s fingers made you squirm under his touch. Your balance was way off as his fingers slid in deeper. You wanted Joel’s fingers out of you so you could take a breath, but you knew Joel could be persistent; he wouldn't accept your request.

Bearing your teeth even harder, they could pop out of your mouth; you felt your eyelids stapled shut as you thought about the ache in your eyelids. You heard a slight squelch sound from your ass; as you felt that release from your ass, you took a quick drag of air into your lungs as you began to collect your thoughts.

A hard smack across your ass causes you to yelp through your born teeth; your clothed-covered stomach and cock suddenly collide with the wall in front of you — Feeling Joel’s body pressed behind you. His breath against your ear — growling against your ear.

“S’fuckin’ squirmin’ so much, this is me asking nicely, by the way.”

“Sorry,” You apologized.

“Don’t have to apologize, baby. But, you’re makin’ this more difficult than it needs to be.”

You feel your body having a massive weight off your back and being unpressed from the wall. You inhaled another quick breath before Joel could slide his fingers inside you again. You were inhaling a breath through your teeth — but keeping your feet still the best you can.

Strangely, you felt your feet rise as if Joel was lifting you to make you stand on the tips of your toes. You place your head on the wall before you as it feels like a colossal weight is balancing on your neck. “Fu-aah-ck, Joel. You’re so deep,” You whimper.

“I fuckin’ love it when you whimper, baby; makes my cock even harder.”

You felt Joel slide another finger into you — pushing deeper, causing you to groan in a mix of pain and pleasure. His fingers slid back and forth faster, and you wanted to squirm, but you stood still, the back of your throat on the verge of revealing a squeal. Your cock rubbed up against the wall before you and made you want to cum right then and there, but you do your best to hold your moans in the best you can.

“Are you ready for my cock now, baby?”

To be honest, you weren't — at all. You didn't even know why you agreed with what Joel was pleading with you previously. Your hands were still above your head, your forearms were getting sore, and all you wanted to do was get out of this elevator much faster. So, you complied with Joel’s question. “Y-yes,” You nodded.

The grip Joel had on your wrists had been released, but immediately, you placed them on the wall by your sides — planted on the wall. You didn't turn around to notice Joel sliding his jeans off his waist

Joel’s spit lands on the head of his cock, and his hand smooths it down his shaft seconds before he powers into you with a deep, gravelly groan — sounding like a lion. A silent gasp escapes your lips, and you bear your teeth, snapping your eyes shut.

Your nails dig into the metal before you as Joel’s hands are planted on your waist — nails digging into your skin. Joel’s thrusts start slow, giving you a chance to breathe and grasp the situation you’re in.

The tiny elevator you were in made you realize the predicament: you were getting fucked by your best friend's dad. How you felt couldn't be explained, only observed, but you didn't want anyone to see you right now.

Knocks coming from behind you, causing you to strain your neck as you locate the noise — Joel’s neck following suit.

“Hey, is everything alright in there?” You heard it muffled behind the sliding door.

“Yeah. We fine,” Joel shouts. Grunts follow suit as his hips collide with you, causing a muffled groan through your teeth.

“Are you both alright?”

“M’ fine; they seem under the weather,” Joel grunts.

You roll your eyes at Joel’s statement, turning your head back towards the wall.

“Okay, stay calm and keep away from the doors; we’re gonna get the door open as quick as we can.”

“Take your time,” Joel announces.

One of Joel’s hands plants flat on your hair, and you feel a tight grip on your hair as you bend your neck back. A light gasp leaves your lips as Joel’s hips rock faster into you.

“I wish I could spend my time on you, angel, but we really need to hurry this up.”

Joel’s once leisurely pace began to speed up, causing you to force your hands to ball into a fist — your nails piercing your palms. The claps that vibrated throughout the small space you and Joel were in made the sounds seem deafening.

The decorum that Joel had left him entirely when he finally achieved what he yearned for for so long.

He acquired treasure that he had been obsessing over for so long that it was driving him insane.

Bearing his teeth, you hear Joel’s grunts in your ear — causing your cock to twitch. With Joel’s free hand, he brings it up and slams his hand down on your ass cheek. You have to groan as silently as you can because the people working on the door didn’t hear the two of you.

“The only thing between us and them are doors that can open up at any given moment.”

“They would see my handprint on that sweet ass of yours, the marks on your neck given by me, God. I could cum in that tight little ass thinkin’ about it.”

“J-Joel. You’re hitting so deep.”

“Y’feel my cock stretch you out, baby?”

You don't answer; your mind keeps drawing blanks, causing you to moan with each thrust Joel’s hips made contact with your ass.

Each thrust made you feel like Joel was stretching you out inch by inch; the pain felt a mix of unbearable and pleasurable, but all you knew was that you wanted to leave this situation as soon as you could.

Joel’s cock twitched inside you, but you didn't notice it, but you felt his thrusts become faster, rougher — almost animal-like.

“I’m cummin’ soon, baby. I’m creamin’ that tight ass soon.”

With a tug on your hair, you feel Joel’s breath against your ear. “Hopefully, I can get you pregnant by the time those doors open.”

Joel's hold on your hair had finally released and held onto your waist. His nails feel embedded into your skin as you moan as quietly as you can, with each thrust connecting with you.

“Y’see how hard ya make me baby? Can't believe your ass is mine,” Joel growled

Your clammy palms connect with the metal wall as you feel the shaft of your cock start to pulsate.

“Fuck, baby. I’m about to cum,” Joel’s teeth are about to shatter as his hands go on the wall before you to keep his balance.

His mouth is next to your neck, causing chills to trail down your spine as you feel like you're about to cum. Whimpers leave your mouth as you turn your neck to look towards Joel.

His lips collide with yours as his thrusts slow down — becoming more passionate, remembering the man you knew.

As your lips leave each other, a line of saliva leaves both of your mouths. You force your head to look at the wall, and Joel plants a hand on your back, and his pace quickens again.

“Fuck! I’m cumming,” Joel exclaimed as quietly as he could.

With a few pushes of his hips and one final one, you bite your lip and moan against your teeth, and lip as strings of cum land on the wall, and Joel’s cum shoots inside you.

You can feel how warm his cum inside you, making your stomach feel like mush inside.

Turning your neck, you hear Joel’s breaths and feel them against your neck. You notice his curls attached to his sweaty forehead, your mushy feeling stomach just became sludge in your stomach as you swallowed your bile down.

“Thank you so much, baby,” Joel breathed.

“I-It’s okay.”

Joel places his lips softly against your neck. And you force yourself to act like everything is fine.

Joel backed up from you, his now soft cock exiting you, cum threatening to spill out from inside you. You quickly picked up your pants and acted like everything was fine.

Your eyes reflexively watched Joel as he picked up his pants and buckled his pants and belt. He catches you staring at him and smirks.

“Ya already want to go round two wit me already, son?”

You don't answer. You roll your eyes, cross your arms, and turn your body away from Joel.

The idea of trying to stomach what just went on was a broken CD in your head. Nothing was making sense of how you were supposed to feel. All that you know was that you felt like throwing up.

You heard the elevator doors creak a bit, causing Joel to turn around.

“We’re getting the doors open; steer clear,” You heard the voice from before.

The elevator doors opened with a sharp creak as you saw two pairs of hands force the door open. You settled your nerves, but your stomach still felt like sludge — making you want to throw up.

“Are you guys alright?”

“Ye-” Joel started.

“Yes, we’re fine,” You interrupted.

“Can we get out now? Please?”

“A-almost, just need to make sure you boys aren't hurt.”

“No cuts or anythin’ like that, sir. The boy is just a little flustered, is all,” Joel acknowledged, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, causing your body to shudder.

“Well, then. If everything is fine, don’t see any reason to keep you boys waiting-”

You speed walked out of the elevator — practically running from Joel’s grasp on your shoulders. You just wanted to go home, curl under your sheets, and pretend you didn't exist.

The feeling that nothing would be back to the ordinary — despite Joel’s words moments ago came back when you reached the college campus doors you were begging to see. Pushing the doors of their hinges.

You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets before scrambling to reach Joel’s truck and enter the passenger side.

Your exhales fog up the passenger-side window as you feel as if you ran fifty miles to get away from Joel. The point of running was pointless because Joel was your ride home, but you wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

You noticed Joel’s broad figure stalking toward the truck — like a serial killer approaching their victim. The occasional glancing at the windshield made you regret your decision to steal glances at the parking lot.

You were forcing yourself to turn your body towards the door to avoid any glance from Joel or any form of communication. Your ears pick up Joel’s door opening, him grunting to get in, and the door closing.

“You alright, son?”

You nod with your head against the window.

“Look at me,” Joel stated.

Your head didn't budge from the window; you knew there would be a spot where your forehead lay.

“Look at me,” Joel’s statement sounded more like a command from how deep his voice went.

Reluctantly, you turn your neck and stare at your best friend’s dad. “Are you sure, ya alright?”

“Just like you said, just a little under the weather.”

“It’ isn't because of us, right?” Joel’s southern drawl hung on the last word of his question.

“I don't think so, maybe?” You shrug.

“Son-”

“Maybe it is, I don't know. I’ve never had sex before, so I don't know.”

In Joel’s head, his face read the realization of why you had been so closed off. He used his daughter’s best friend for his personal gain without actually thinking about how you would feel after the fact. But in reality, Joel seemed fine with the news that you haven't had sex before; he felt like he owned you, once and for all — something he always wanted.

“I’just hope you don't tell Sarah about any of this.”

You wanted to throw up; bile was threatening to crawl up your throat. You told Joel a big part of you, and all he had to say was that you wouldn’t say anything to Sarah.

“Can you just take me home, please?”

Joel said nothing; he just started his truck and drove out of the dorm parking lot.

—

After what felt like an eternity of driving in silence with Joel, he stopped the truck in front of your house; you felt comfort once again as you saw the front door of your home.

You were blinking a few times before looking at Joel and nodding before you attempted to grab the handle and open the door. Joel made you turn around — grabbing you by the neck and forcing your lips to crash against his in a hungry and less passionate kiss.

It was what felt like Joel would deem absolutely necessary.

Backing your heads away from each other, you see darkness in Joel’s eyes as you see your reflection; the man you once knew was gone, and that was terrifying.

“Thanks, Joel,” Was all you said as you walked out of his truck.

Walking towards your door, you don't hear Joel’s engine drive off into the night; it was still — you knew Joel was watching you — waiting for you to get inside your house.

Quickly slithering inside your house, you lean on the front door as you hear Joel’s truck drive off down the street. You opened the door and saw his vehicle was gone; a sigh of relief escaped your lips, and then you felt bile rise to your throat again, and you were leaning your stomach over the railing of your stairs, spilling the contents of your stomach onto the dirt below.

A coughing fit ensured you knew would wake a neighbor or your parents away but you didn't care, you just wanted your stomach to feel clean of any feelings of disgust.

“Dang it,” You breathed, standing up and wiping your mouth with your jacket sleeve.

“I opened up a giant can of worms. Gosh, I’m not ready for this.”

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babygorewhore · 5 months

Text

I’d never leave you

Tate Langdon x fem reader

Hurt comfort. WC. Just over 1k

Hi! So this is a Tate version of hurt comfort with a reader having both autism and BPD. My moots encouraged me to write this because of the inclusivity I bring with these disorders. It’s short. And I tried to keep Tate in character. But I hope you enjoy! This will be my latest AHS fic because I have a few other fandoms so it’ll be a while before my next!

Warnings! Autistic episode and BPD episode depicted. Anger! Destroying room. Hair pulling. Tate slightly misunderstands reader. Not proofread

Tate was frantic as he searched the murder house for you. He hadn’t talked to you in a few days. Close to a whole week. He tried so hard to respect that you asked him for space. He really did. But he heard whispers from the other ghosts that you were in a dark place.

You weren’t dead like him and he wanted to keep it that way. He would never harm you on purpose or let anyone hurt you. He had sulked around the shadows, remembering how it felt to hold you. Your arms were his favorite place to me.

Tate heard a loud bang. Then a crash. In your bedroom. His old room. Bursting through the door, Tate’s brown eyes widened as he took in the state of the space.

You were crouched down, your notebooks, jewelry and clothes thrown around you. The dresser was on the floor and drawers were pulled out and haphazardly scattered around you.

You had spoken about these episodes before. Tate understood you were autistic along with a personality disorder. You kept it away from him, insisting he couldn’t handle your mommy and daddy issues that caused some of it. He had begged for you to open up but that seemed to only make you pull away more.

Your face was deeply flushed, your hair ripped out of its previously style and Tate cringed when he saw a few chunks in your clenched fist that was against your head.

Tate rushed over to you, reaching out but you jerked back and started gaining your balance as you stood. “What are you doing in here? I told you to leave me alone!” He immediately felt hurt but he pushed it aside and scanned you. Your eyes were glazed over. He couldn’t tell if it was from crying or lack of sleep.

“I heard something and I couldn’t just not see what happened-“

“Oh god, Tate. Come on. I can’t even-this is-fuck everything is too- I can feel the texture of that shirt! I can’t stand it!” You shakily pointed at a fleece t shirt on the floor. “And my phone won’t stop buzzing.”

Tate nodded, trying to understand through your volume. “I can put it away-“

“No! I don’t want any of it. I want it away from me! I’m so sick of this. And I can’t find my headphones.” Your voice cracked.

Tate knew those were a safety net, at first he thought you wanted to ignore everyone but it was just protective measure. “I’ll find them-“

“I don’t want help!” This time you yelled louder. “I just want a different mind. I hate myself. I don’t want to be me, Tate. Every day, something else adds up. And I can’t handle it anymore.” As you continued speaking, your voice became lower.

Tate took a step closer. He just wanted to hug you and make this all better. He wanted to touch your too big sweatshirt and kiss your sweet face that he loved so much. “Baby, pushing me away isn’t right. Why don’t you want me to help you?”

He half expected you to scream but instead you sank onto the wooden floor. Opening your palms where torn out hair slowly slipped off your flesh.

“I don’t like how this feels.” You shuddered, trying to fling the rest off.

He took the opportunity to quickly settle in front of you, his knees touching yours as he experimented if you’d pull away. You didn’t. Tate carefully took your hand and took the end of his shirt and started wiping away any remaining strands. He hated that you did that but he refrained from saying that right now. He didn’t want you to tell him to leave again.

“What-What happened? Why are you so upset?”

You were visibly shaking now, teeth chattering slightly. “I don’t have a good reason. My friend said something-and it was just off. I felt like she really didn’t like me. Maybe she was talking about me to other people. And then-I couldn’t find my headphones. Everything went shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was move away from you but Tate forced himself to lean down and inspect underneath the bed. There they were. He crawled forward, shifting past you and pulling them out. “Found them, baby.” Your shoulders slumped heavily as you took them. Tears prickled in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tate. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I know you just wanna help-I didnt wanna hurt you-“ He shook his head fiercely and gently leaned forward.

He gauged your reaction but you met his presence as he rested his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m always gonna be here. And I want to help you. Even if you’re angry or-hurting. I’d never leave you. I love you…” he trailed off.

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Because I don’t want this to happen again but it will. And I don’t want you to be stuck with another problem.” Tate then cupped your cheek, his own eyes growing glassy as you held eye contact a little longer.

“No. You’re not a problem. You are everything. You hear that? I don’t care if I have to hold you while you cry or scream. If I have to listen to music from playing outside of your headphones all day, then I will. I would do anything for you, baby. And you want to know why?”

You shrugged a little.

“Because I love you, baby. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And-I don’t want you to push me away anymore. You can tell me anything.”

He didn’t want you to argue as you opened your mouth.

“I love you too.” You whispered and his chest expanded with warmth as you brought him into a hug. He nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a few gentle kisses against your skin.

Begrudgingly moving away, Tate scanned the bedroom. “Hey. I’m gonna make this livable again. Why don’t you put these on and try to relax a little? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded and he could tell you were growing tired from the intensity of your emotions. He helped you stand and guided you to the bed. Tate stroked your cheek with his knuckle as you settled against the pillow.

He would try his best to understand more and relate to you. But for you? He would do anything.

Tagging

@scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @imyourdaninow @icannot3 @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @elaine-in-the-membrane @enchanting-evan

If I forgot anyone forgive because I’m baby.

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters imagine #tate langdon #Tate Langdon angst #Tate Langdon hurt comfort #hurt comfort #evan peters fanfiction #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon angst

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star-girl69 · 11 months

Text

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: so fun fact it’s actually my birthday today!! and as a little gift for all of you, here’s finally some more adult reader and nat!!!! i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: blackmail, death, mentions of suicide, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Thirteen - Wild Side

—-

2021-

As soon as you got the postcard, you though of Natalie. Then you cried and screamed and wondered for days what to about it.

Until you finally realized who it could be from. You took a sick day off of work, faking a fever, waking up early in the morning to drive over to New Jersey from the city. You kept the postcard bunched up in your fist the entire drive.

When you get the hotel room Misty had told you about, you’ve worked yourself up into a wild rage, a storm, the very picture of violence- you bang harshly on the motel door.

You can hear muttering from inside, but Natalie opens the door, dressed in a white t-shirt, her hair pulled back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shout, barging into the cheap and messy motel room.

She can only stare at you in shock.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

You hold up the postcard. “This! You obsessive, stalker freak!”

She rips it out of your hands, staring at it, the cursive “wish you were here!” and that stupid fucking symbol.

“Oh,” she mumbles.

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” you shout, putting your hand on your hip. “So, what? You just want me back and decided the best way to do was to try and and scare me? Have you ever heard about taking a girl out on a date, Natalie?”

“Jesus Christ.”

You turn toward Taissa, not even bothering to hide your groan.

She smiles. “Nice to see you too, Y/N. Lover’s quarrel? Want me to step outside?”

You roll your eyes and turn back to Natalie.

“Well? Have anything to say for yourself?”

She sighs. “I didn’t send you the postcard. I got one. Tai and Misty got one. I don’t know why you just got one now, but-”

“She’s not lying, crazy. I got one too.”

Taissa has never been a liar. And even after everything that happened- you believe her.

“If anything, I think you’re the stalker freak.”

“What the fuck-”

Natalie groans.

“Please, Y/N.” You want to storm out, your cheeks heated from embarrassment, but you stay where you are. Natalie shuts the door behind you. She gestures to a pile of pictures on a small table. “Look.”

“What is that?” Taissa asks, any remnant of amusement from your temporary psychosis gone.

“It’s the floor of the barn where they found Travis’s body. The police are saying it’s a suicide, but there were candles underneath him arranged like that. Someone burned them and took them away.

You take a step closer, and that ugly symbol rears its head again.

“Who would do that?” Tai whispers.

Natalie’s phone dings.

Taissa’s does too.

And after a moment, yours does as well.

All you can focus on is the symbol, sketched out in dashes and dots on your screen.

“Gather 50k cash and away further instructions. Do not discuss this with your teammates, I will know,” Natalie reads.

You sigh and sit on her bed. “Fuck this.”

“I’m calling Shauna,” Tai says, and you watch as she makes the call.

“Hey. I’m with Natalie, you need to get here, Travis is dead and- she says she already knows.”

“What? How?” Natalie asks.

“Misty called her.”

Natalie rubs her temples.

“That conniving, poodle-haired little fucking freak.”

“Shauna, get here now!” Nat shouts into Tai’s phone. “We’ve got a big problem.”

You sigh and fall back against the bed.

—-

The three of you stay cooped up in Natalie’s motel room until Shauna comes, which consists of you lying on the bed, feeling sick and horrible, until Shauna finally knocks.

Tai has long since taken out a cigarette.

“Y/N,” Shauna says when she sees you.

“Shauna,” you say, smiling softly. She laughs and little and hugs you- years apart feeling odd, falling right back into before.

“You look like shit,” Natalie says after you and Shauna pull apart.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan, rolling your eyes.

“Back at you,” Shauna says.

“How’s Jeff? Is he still hocking futons?

“Okay, no. No. No. We’re not doing this, okay? Not after all the shit we’ve been through.”

You sigh. “Taissa always knows how to scold us.”

She ignores you. “We’ve got a situation here. We’re gonna deal with it. Together.”

“Okay, fine. What’s- what’s going on?” Shauna asks. The room is silent for a moment, until Natalie gestures to the pictures that you had spent hours looking at, trying to find another explanation. But it was the symbol. “Is that Travis?”

No one speaks, and Shauna has her answer. She sits down at the table, sighing.

“Someone strung him up and then tried to cover the tracks.”

“We think it’s the same person who’s blackmailing us.”

“What? Blackmail?”

“You didn’t get one?” you frown. Taking out the postcard from your purse. “I mean, at first I thought it was Natalie-” Tai mutters under her breath, “But then I got the text message asking for 50k. We all did, I thought.”

“What?” Shauna studies the cars you hand her. “No. What do they want? 50k?”

“Yes, then they’ll keep their mouths shut.” Taissa says. “We’re not exactly sure what they know, but… I sure as hell don’t wanna find out.”

“You all got one?”

“Misty did, too.” Natalie says.

“I mean, it’s gotta be someone from the team, right? Like, who else would know about this?”

“That reporter.”

“Jessica Roberts?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Natalie nods.

“Wait. I told you to take care of her,” Shauna says to Tai.

“I threatened a lawsuit. I told her to back off.

“Fuck this,” Natalie says, the drink in her hand swishing. She laughs slightly, grabbing something from her bedside table.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna bring Jessica Roberts- great fake name, by the way- to us. And I’ll just say, ‘Oh, I’m ready to tell my story.’”

“No, because then if it is not her, then we are just handing her the exact kind of story she’s looking for.”

“Yeah, Shauna’s right, Nat. Please. Just put the phone down. Stop it. Stop it!” Tai shouts.

“Natalie!”

Nat smiles, and you throw your head back, reaching forward to grab her arm- but you can’t.

“Natalie,” you say. She barely spares you a glance.

“Fucking put the phone down!”

“You know I don’t like it when you yell at me.” But, she puts the phone down.

“Can you get the money?” Shauna sighs.

“I’m working on it.”

“Once you do, we put a GPS tracker in with the cash, and that way we can follow it, and see who, what we’re-we’re dealing with. Together.”

Natalie smiles.

“I cannot believe I’m about to say this, but should we loop Misty in?”

“No. She could be part of this.” Tai dismisses.

“ Well, she did take me to see Travis. And Y/N. But first she fucked with my car. Still, she’s been helping me to figure it all out.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause naturally. Um, is there anything else I should know about? Or does the blackmail, Travis maybe being murdered, and this one playing buddy cop with Misty fucking Quigley just about cover it?”

Tai let’s out a sharp breath.

“Okay, well. I’m gonna go see if there’s any vacancies,” you sigh.

“I don’t think there are any-”

“Shut up, Natalie.”

—-

You knock on the door twenty minutes later, everyone left. Natalie opens the door, smiling smugly.

“Need a place to stay?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, that’s no way to talk to your savior.”

You roll your eyes. “Natalie.”

She opens the door wider, and motions for you to walk in. You sit on the bed, taking a pillow and putting it in the middle of the bed, before starting to shrug off your jacket.

“Seriously?�� Nat asks, tugging off her shorts, slipping into the already unmade bed.

“Yes,” you say, providing no other explanation.

You’ve shared motel rooms with Natalie before, slept in her arms before, but seeing her drink today reminded you of why you left in the first place. In a world where all you knew was violence, you had chosen more. But now- in the modern, the real world- love wasn’t suffering. Love wasn’t watching her die.

You slip off your bra from under your t-shirt, imagining this is just your bed, just your bed at home, repeating it to yourself as you switch off the lamp and climb into bed.

Natalie turns on a talk show, so the voices in the background muter quietly.

“Can you not?” you groan, eager for silence.

She doesn’t speak for a moment.

“There’s a tree by the window, uh, it sometimes scratches against it.”

“Oh.” You stare up at the ceiling. You weren’t expecting her to forget it, but, still.

“We’re in New Jersey.”

“I know.”

And besides for the talk show, no one speaks for the rest of the night.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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mossygrove333 · 15 days

Text

☾𖤓 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2-𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉?

I FINALLY GOT PT TWO OUT LETS GOOO!!!

⚠︎TW!!: mentions of racism, triggers for squeamish readers (she does get infected with a parasite! And it does mention what it feels like), mild language, descriptions of blood, gore, and corpses/parasites (Nothing too explicit)

world: BG3/ Baldurs Gate 3 (Specifically on the nautiloid ship and escaping it <3)

Main character: My Tav, Nymlynn (Tiefling Druid, level 1)

word count: 1,093

Enjoy reading!!

Baldurs Gate, 1492.

Nymylynn walked the streets of Baldurs Gate like many she will soon meet do. Her cloak tight against her body. Tieflings haven’t been…very trusted since Elturel. It’s not like she could hide her heritage well anyways. Purple skin like a dawns sky. A maw of fangs made for ripping into meat. Large claws adorning her hands.

But Nymlynn was far from a demon people saw her as. Any real look would discern that. Small and soft. Big round eyes, piercing blue. The only light thing about her coloring. Ravensun. It’s an interesting last name. A raven, dark and black. A sign of evil in many cultures. Like Nym herself. But sun? Light and energetic, up with the clouds. A sign of day, a sign of purity. Nymlynn.

Her boots hit the floor, her wrist gently resting on her quarterstaff. Eyes glinting in the dark, light sensitive and dark visioned. She turns and hurried down the alleyway, past where a certain vampire was drinking.

A loud buzz filled the air. A crash. Darkness. Pain. Eyes widening. Writhing tentacles.

The nautiloid. Illithids.

She gets strapped in, delirious and confused. She tried to scream, but she can’t make a noise. As she watches the vicious teeth of a parasite slither in between her eye socket. She feels it in her brain. Writhing as she doubles over.

Passing out for god knows how long.

She wakes up to ruin. Her body collapsing out of her holder. Fingers digging into the floor.

“Ta zmy myddw…” (translation: “to the hells…”) she mutters. Her head still reeling, stomach churning. she gets to her knees and manages to get to her feet. Looking around.

She finds the pool, orange glistening liquid. She reaches out, the tank crumbling under her touch. Some sort of parasite juice spilling out on the ground. She gags, turning away as she hurry’s along.

Why is she free? What is going on?

The ship was deep purple like her skin. Living and breathing. Flesh. It was a living ship. What the fuck has she gotten into?

She climbed and walked around, trying to find some exit…and I guess she did find one.

Outside. Loud noises, fire, a ripped open ship. She stared out, and soon a Githyanki jumps down.

Sword to throat, Nyms eyes wide. “Who are you?!” The strange woman growls out, pressing the sharp blade closer to delicate skin.

Suddenly they both feel the parasite writhe. Eyes rolling back and sword nearly dropped. A warrior, fighting alongside other Githyanki, calls to a goddess, harsh voices, a person kidnapped. Lae’zel was the name. But what did Lae’zel see? A small child running. Vines twisting and taking the life of another. Tree tops with light shining through. Screams of agony and terror. Blood spilled.

It ends.

Nym doubles over, staring up at the warrior Lae’zel. She thinks for a moment, before softly whispering. “Not a threat…just a victim. Like you are.”

Lae’zel huffs, glaring. Then roughly grabbing her. “Name. Now.”

“Nymylnn.” She flinched back, her voice so small compared the harsh womans.

They continue on. Not saying much, they had to hurry. The tremors on the ship were getting stronger.

They run into a room. Cages similar to the ones they emerged from lined the walls. And soon they find a woman. Banging on glass.

“You!” The raven-haired woman yells out. “Please, get me out!” She bangs her fists on the glass, eyes full of desperation.

Nymlynn timidly steps forward as she tries to open it. But it doesn’t budge. Some magical seal holding it in place.

“Leave the damned woman! We have to go!” Lae’zel snaps. Nym steps back, she doesn’t want to go. She has to save the woman.

Her voice yells out. “I’ll get you out! You’ll be okay!” Nym weakly looks at Lae’zel and hurries off. Throwing open chests while the warrior grumbles and curses.

She find a panel, tries to connect. Writhing parasite.

She’s in.

Wills it to open.

Shadowheart is free from the clutches of the nautiloid containments.

They stand, a trio. A half-elf, a Gith, and a Tiefling. An odd collection really. Shadowheart sighs, offering a wry smile. “Thank you…?”

“Nymlynn.” Her soft voice answers. Shadowheart offers a kind smile, her eyes flickering to the Githyanki. Slight prejudice slipping into her features.

Lae’zel glares. “Great you've wasted time! We need to go and now!”

Nymlynn got uneasy. She hater people fighting, hated loud noises and arguments. And she was sure that her newly found friends would be full of it.

But what else could she do?

They hurry to the center of a ship, an illithid and imps fighting. Roars and blood spilled, already a few gored corpses on the black slick ground.

It was time to fight.

Lae’zel roared and ran forward, bringing down her sword. Slicing through demons and hacking away limbs. Shadowheart ran forward, sliding in the blood and casting something arcane. A bolt of light shooting out and hitting an imp in the chest.

And now it was Nyms turn.

She had gotten use to a bit of carnage from her years as an adventurer. But every time she still gets sick. Taking the life of another, monster or not, was never an easy thing. But this was life or death. Loud roars of dragons and screams were growing. Tremors on the ship rattling and growing closer together.

She needed to do something.

She ran forward and brought down her staff.

After many hits, scratches, and some blood she managed to drag herself to the console. She brought up her bloodied hands, grapped two writhing fleshy vines, the teeth on them digging into each other. Then it all flashed, and everything went to shit.

She screamed out, felt herself fall. Farther and farther. She was going to hit the ground. She was going to die. After everything she did, after everything she fought for. She was going to end it here. Was it better than what was to come?

Well none of those thoughts came out because the only thing her vocal cords could really do was form the sound, “AAAARGHHH!!”

She nearly hits the ground, she curls up and then it stops. And she gently hits the ground with a thud. She was saved…something had stopped the fall.

There was no time to think. She was free. And where exactly was she?

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cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien · 5 months

Text

Solar Monsters Scene: Mundane Terry vs. Possessed Alice (for @avaveevo and @crazychanuwu77)

Mundane Terry growls as he approaches Alice, with her staff.

Possessed Alice: So you’re the Mundane? chuckles Let’s play!

Mundane Terry bangs his fist and fights with Alice. Alice dodges Terry’s fist as Terry snarls and uses his hands to pound to the ground, which caused the middle of the pier’s bridge to crack as it makes a sonic boom and Alice leaps and lands on her feet.

Possessed Alice: chuckles Miss me. Though I must admit. You’re one strength of a brute!

Mundane Terry roars as he slaps Alice to the wall. The gang made it as they gasp upon seeing Mundane Terry fighting possessed Alice. Alice slashes Mundane Terry’s left arm as he screams in pain.

Human Korvo: Terry! Stop this please! I'm sorry I-

Mundane Terry: roars as he tries to punch Alice but misses as he leaps up

Human Jesse: Terry! Stop! Please, I want my daddy back! I know you’re in there Terry! Please stop! crying

Human Yumyulack: Aw shit! I think Terry has lost his mind!

Human Pupa: No! Terry!

Nova: points to Alice So did she! Look!

Cherie: It’s the missing maid! watches as Alice tries to ram her staff but Terry jumps up and roars

Ms. Perez: What happened to her?! She looks different!

Mia: Don’t worry, I know how! It’s that ruby stuck to her throat! We have to get it out of her! Somehow! Come on!

But when they try to get to her, Mundane Terry gets in the way as he pummels on Alice.

Human Yumyulack: Aw shit! Terry!

Human Jesse: sees Sonya Sonya! picks her up but then notices glittering fish scales on Sonya’s neck and that her hair looks different too, in bead braids and it has tentacle suckers on it Oh no! Sonya has been affected with some kind of virus!

Mia: Don’t worry! We have to get her home where she can be safe. But first, we can’t let anyone see her like this.

Back with Beverly, she sees the two and decided to take matters into her own hands as she runs up and gets out a serum. But then, Mundane Terry throws possessed Alice to Beverly as the two women shoved into each other and the serum hits Alice’s neck as it caused the ruby to fall out of her neck and shatter into pieces.

Beverly: groans but then gasp upon seeing Alice on the floor No! That wasn’t supposed to happen

Alice is laying unconscious as the side effects from her possession fades away. The others gasp. Her hair, mouth and skin turns back to normal. She then started moaning.

Janice: H’no! I don’t think she is okay y’know.

Miss Frankie: Oh my God. She looks hurt.

Montez: Let’s make sure! She’s okay.

The others went up to Alice to make sure she is okay. But then…

Nova: I’ll check her blood temperature while you guys-

Alice’s eyes glow as she roars. Her skin turns green and scaly. Her clothes starts to rip apart as she grows bigger and stronger, and muscular too, her teeth becomes snake fangs, her hair turns into snakes that started hissing. Her voice also deepens as her lipstick turns yellow-green on her lips. Her fingernails grows sharper. Her legs turns into a snake’s tail. She open her glowing eyes and roar loudly as the human Solars and their friends covered their ears. Alice’s eyes stop glowing as she stops.

Miss Frankie, Principal Cooke and Jaime: Huh?

Darcy: What the?

Cherie: Is she okay?

Pezlie: cooing

Montez: Uh… might want to shield your eyes.

Alice looks around the pier and gasp upon seeing her reflection.

Medusa Alice: Holy shit! What happened to me?! Where am I? Oh dear, I- suddenly grows intrigued and feels sexy Ooh. I look sexy. notices the human Solars and their friends Wait?! Who the fuck are you people?!

Principal Cooke: trying to look away from the snakes Um-

Medusa Alice: Damn it! I knew it! I knew I should’ve listen to my mother about-

Human Korvo: offscreen Ahem?

Medusa Alice: turns to see Korvo Hmm?

Human Korvo: Okay, I know we haven’t met. But, try not to freak out over.

Medusa Alice: What? What do you mean by that-

Korvo turns back into his Shlorpian self as Alice gasp in shock.

Medusa Alice: What the fuck?! Aliens?!

The Replicants and Pupa turn back into their normal Shlorpian and Pupa selves as Alice grows shock.

Medusa Alice: Aw, what do you know? Miss Brandine wasn’t joking when she was talking about a little green guy. Aren’t you cutie? tickles Pupa as he laughs

All: gasp

Medusa Alice: What? What’s wrong?

All: sighs in relief

Medusa Alice: looks at her snakes Oh. Looks like they only turn bad people into stone. You all seem like good people. But, what’s going on here? How did I get here?

Korvo: I am so sorry about all this. You see, that monster that fought with you is my husband-

Mundane Terry then reappears after jumping out the water as the gang screamed, except for Alice who is startled.

Medusa Alice: Oh my God! That’s your husband?!

Yumyulack: Uh huh? That’s our dad.

Medusa Alice: Dad?!

Mundane Terry tries to attack again but then…

Korvo: TERRY! STOP THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW! AS YOUR MISSION LEADER, I-

Korvo then stops talking as he notice that Mundane Terry then stop growling and puts his fist down as it unclenches upon seeing Korvo, his expression softens into a sad one as he began whimpering in fear and begins to cry while tears streams down his face from his his eyes like a waterfall as the others grow worried and concern about their father/friend. Even Alice is concerned.

Korvo: Terry...I...

As he finally realizes how scared his husband is, Korvo turns back into his human form as he approaches Terry. The Replicants and Pupa also morphed back into their human forms as they look tearfully at their father.

Human Korvo: Terry...I...I'm sorry. I promise I won't hurt you, okay?

Human Korvo walks to his Mundane husband and then strokes Terry's face to soothe him as Terry continues to cry. The others are still worried about Terry as Alice smiles at the sweet scene and then began to turn back as Nova notices and brings a towel to cover her body while Sherbet bring an orange 60s kitchen dress and lady’s wear and a pair of orange sandals with hearts on them for clothing for Alice.

Human Korvo: I'm here. Sssh. Sssh. You're okay, my love.

As Human Korvo kisses Mundane Terry on the forehead, Mundane Terry’s began to turn back to normal as Human Korvo looks on. Sherbet then brings Terry’s clothes to him as Terry passed out in Korvo’s arms.

Human Korvo: …There’s my husband.

Human Jesse: Terry! Is he-

Human Korvo: Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be okay.

Human Jesse: cries as she hugs Terry Oh thank heavens.

Suddenly, as Terry moans, Alice is then fully dressed as she puts her hair up in a bun. But then, she notices Beverly and the gang leaving.

Alice: Hey! I think I see something!

Human Korvo: Beverly?! suddenly notices the stuff Terry was talking about earlier What?!

Terry then wakes up as Sherbet helps put his clothes on him while covering her eyes so she won’t see his private Shlorpian parts. She then finished by his orange shirt on.

Terry: Wh-what?! sees his friends Guys? What’s going on?! then notices Alice Who the fuck are you?! then sees the pier as he turns into his human form and looks at his reflection as he wipes away the blood on his his mouth Oh no. What have I done?!

Human Korvo: Terry! hugs him Oh thank God. We were so worried about you! kisses him

Human Yumyulack and Human Jesse: Terry!

Human Pupa: Terry!

The kids then embrace their father as he notice Beverly and her gang running away and growls.

Human Terry: You bitch!

Cherie: What is it Terry?

Alice: motherly What’s wrong, baby?

Human Terry: I’ll be right back!

Human Terry then follows Alice as his family and friends grow surprised and decided to follow him. Human Korvo then picks up the photos and then sees what Beverly and the gang has done and sees a photo of her with David as he crumbles it up in fury and follows his family and friends.

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cassandrajoybellbittner · 2 months

Text

Burn For Me - Chapter 3b

*Warning Adult Content*

Conner Carmichael

“Well then... let's cool it down.”

I watched her lift her hand up to the surface, when steam suddenly began to appear around her hand, before she pressed her hand against the hot metal.

She winced a bit, before I watched as the whole side of the cell frost over, in a light coating of ice and it continued to spread further, wrapping around the corners, out of sight and up top.

“Try it now,” she said her eyes closed in focus.

I never knew she was an Elemental.

I crouched down bracing myself, using my leg muscles I sprung myself in the air high enough to catch the end of the edge and pull myself up.

It was still hot up here but bearable enough to touch, thanks to Constance.

Once I was kneeling on one knee, I scanned the top and noticed the latch to a little trap door.

'Well... what do you know?'

“Hold on. Okay? We'll get you out,” I said, loud for the person, I was so compelled to save.

I reached out towards the now ice-covered latch and yanked hard enough to break it causing the door to swing open.

Once the door was open, it felt like a sauna as hot steam rose in my face.

Coughing I waved away the steam the best I could before peering down in the murky cell.

“Where are you?” I asked squinting and leant further over the opening.

“Hey?”

I don’t know where it came from but a blast of fire rose up from the opening and into my face.

A scream ripped it's way from my lips and I lost my balance tumbling forward into the cell.

I hit the floor hard with an echoing bang but I could care less about that as I franticly patted my face and hair making sure I wasn’t on fire.

But the weird thing was I should be in pain since a blast of flames just blew in my face but surprisingly I felt nothing but a warm breeze.

“Connor,” Constance’s frightened voice resonated off the wall around me.

“I’m fine but I've fallen in,” I called back looking at the light coming in from the ceiling door.

Man... thank God for Constance’s powers cooling down the place, otherwise I think my body would have melted to the floor.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed loudly.

Wait…. where did those flames come from anyway?

What was it?

Some sort of security measure?

The familiar sound of chains came from behind me and I jumped forward whirling around to face the person who had been locked away in here.

Sweat trailed down my face, since the heat was worse down here.

The cell was dark, hindering me from seeing anything, combined with the steam making it horribly cloudy.

“C-can you tell me your name?” I stuttered slightly.

No answer.

“I’m... Connor.”

The steam was slowly escaping through the door, making it much easier to see.

The form of a person sitting on the floor became visible thanks to my wolf’s night vision but I still couldn’t see their face.

What was I doing?

Deep down, I’m sure this person wasn’t an axe murder, as Constance claimed but that didn’t mean that they were completely innocent.

I mean, why would the school build such an elaborate type of cell instead of using the numerous regular ones that lined the walls of this place if he wasn’t?

“I don’t know why but I was drawn to this place and I found you, so I’m not sure as to what I’m supposed to do to here,” I rambled while second guessing myself.

“Connor?” Constance’s voice was distant, as I walked closer towards the shadowy figure.

The strong scent of smoky mint assaulted my nose, then and my body began to vibrate all over, drawing me closer and closer.

Just then the air finally cleared and I met the blackest eyes I’d ever seen... his hair was long and dark hanging in his face, in a stringy damp mess.

I froze suddenly... everything in me came to an abrupt halt, as we stared at each other.

But what I saw made me clench my fists, a man chained up to the wall, shackles around his ankles and wrist preventing him from moving, even a foot from the spot he was in.

His dark eyes held no emotion at.

My wolf howled out in an outrage.

I had never felt him so angry before but the sight of the state of this man, boiled his blood to the core.

And just like that, I made my resolve, we were getting him out.

“We're going to get you out,” I told him firmly.

“Hey, Constance,” I called looking up in the ray of artificial light through the door.

“Yeah?” she said a moment later.

“I need something to cut these chains.”

“Where the hell do you expect me to find something like that?” she jeered.

I paused for a moment think of a faster way to get him out so we didn’t get caught.

As I surveyed the wall next to him, a strong grip wrapped around my wrist and I was unexpectedly attacked by a swarm of smoldering tingles resonating though my whole body bringing me down to my knees beside the guy.

With a strained throat he forcibly whispered...

“Mine.”

I snapped my head towards him, his face inches from mine as I stared at him in shock.

Just then my wolf growled and the word I least expected to hear was screamed in my head.

‘Oh shit.’

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painsucklet · 2 years

Text

SCREAMING KICKING BANGING MY FISTS ON THE WALL YELLING SOBBING RIPPING MY HAIR OUT WAILING SHAKING ON THE FLOOR DYING

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mell-bell · 2 years

Text

Everything has its time

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Words: 1820

Series Summary: You and Bruce had been inseparable. Until about a year ago, when he cut you out of his life. But that wont stop you from ensuring that he’s okay even if it means breaking into Wayne Manor every few nights.

Chapter: 1/?

Author’s notes: I love young emo Batman. No shame.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three years ago:

You ducked as Bruce’s fist came flying at your head, a smile growing on your face as his eyes widened. Your arm darted out, ready to slam an open palm into his stomach, but before you could make contact, your legs were swept out from beneath you, and you slammed to the ground.

Your head throbbed where it had made contact with the floor and as you tried to push yourself up, your side screamed in pain and you crashed back to the ground with a yelp. Taking in a deep breath, you blinked away the sparks of light dancing across your vision, letting out an exaggerated groan as a foot lightly kicked your side.

“You’re getting better.”

“I used to be able to kick your ass.” You whined, pushing aside the pain as you shoved yourself to your feet.

Bruce smiled slightly at you, immediately getting back into fighting stance, motioning for you to do the same.

Flashes of light were still sparkling across your vision and your body felt as if you had fallen off a building, but out of habit, your leg slid back as you lifted your fists.

“Master Wayne!”

Relief slammed into you as you turned. Alfred stood at the door of the gym motioning for Bruce to follow. You dropped heavily to the ground, hand bracing your side as you took in deep breaths.

“We’re not done.” Bruce pointed at you.

You dropped onto your back with a groan, lifting your hand to flip him off as he chuckled softly, following Alfred out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years ago:

A loud banging echoed through the room, the sound ripping you from sleep. Groaning, you rolled over burying your face into the soft pillow. It was still dark outside, too early to rise.

Another bang echoed through the room and you squeezed your eyes shut willing the sound to stop. But it sounded again louder, over and over again.

“What fucking time is it?” Wondering if maybe you slept through your alarms and someone was banging on your door to ask why you weren’t at work.

Another bang.

“It’s four in the morning.” A soft voice rumbled from behind you.

You shrieked, shoving away from the unknown body, inadvertently tumbling off the bed in the process. As you struggled to free yourself from the tangle of black sheets, you squinted through the dark room trying to see who was in your bed.

“Bruce?”

“Do you need help making your way back into bed?”

Bruce was reclined against the headboard, body dwarfed by the giant shirt he was wearing, his hair sticking up all over the place as he flicked through a stack of papers.

“What are you doing in my bed?” You whispered.

Bruce finally deigned to look at you, his brows lifting, “You’re in my bed, actually.”

“I....” You looked around. This wasn’t your room. And as your hands slid against the darkest, softest sheets you’ve ever touched, you realized that most definitely wasn’t your bed. You stood slowly, wrapping the blankets you had torn off the bed around your cold body.

You stood motionless for a second, you and Bruce just staring at each other. This wasn’t the first time you slept next to him. Nor the first time you slept in his bed. However, it was the first time sleeping in his bed...with him.

Sighing, you walked back towards the bed and didn’t think twice before curling up into his side. As you relaxed against him, his arm raised to wrap around you automatically as he turned back to the pile of work on his lap.

You snuggled deeper into his warmth and closed your eyes, willing sleep to return. A moment passed. And then another. Bruce cleared his throat and your eyes opened to lightly glare at him.

His fingers began to trail nonsense designs against your bare skin, “You’re staying? Do you not want to know how you got here?”

You shrugged, reaching out to grip his shirt as you closed your eyes once again.

“Tell me in the morning.” You murmured as you drifted back to sleep.

You felt his chest rumble as he laughed, “It is morning.”

“Shhhh,” You grumbled.

Bruce quieted down and you quickly fell asleep against him once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One year ago:

Bruce had been Batman for almost a year. In that time he had realized it wasn’t going to be as easy as he originally thought. The criminals hated him. The city hated him. The police hated him. Sometimes he believed even Alfred hated him.

But someone that was always there for him was you. But he had yet to tell you about his nighttime activities. It wasn’t that he was scared.

He was just terrified.

Terrified that it would change the way you looked at him. That something bad would happen to you. It was these worries that spilled over into his dreams.

Walking down a long dark alleyway next to you, you grab his hand and smile widely at him. No one can touch you, not when he’s next to you. But when you both reach the end of the alley, they attack. You’re torn from his side, screaming for help, but he can’t move. He watches over and over as you are tortured, beaten, bruised, shot. By criminals. By corrupt cops. By himself.

He screams and screams and fights to get to you, but no matter what he does, he can’t reach you.

And finally. Finally. When they stop, he asks.

“Why?”

And he receives the answer he’s been looking for, “Because you love them.”

He looks down at your body at his feet. Motionless. And he knows what he has to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present:

You never thought you would be here, sneaking into Wayne Manor in the dead of night. But as you slipped through the window, letting out a yelp as you knocked a lamp off one of the side tables, you weren’t surprised your life had come to this.

It had been almost a year since Bruce had forbidden you from seeing him, talking to him, or even walking within 100 feet of him. You knew the moment Batman appeared in Gotham that it was Bruce. You waited for him to tell you, but instead he became more and more distant and eventually ripped your heart out when he told you he never wanted to see you again.

And though you knew that you should just forget him, you couldn’t. He had been a part of your life for well over a decade, losing him would be like losing a part of yourself.

So you took what you could. Which meant watching him from afar during the day and sneaking into the manor to care for him in the middle of the night.

You walked slowly through the dark halls, making a note to remind Alfred to buy some night lights so you wouldn’t keep tripping over your own feet in the dark. As you passed by the lounge you met Alfred’s eye, the man nodding his head hello.

You slowly made your way down to what you had rightfully coined the Batcave, frowning as you took in Bruce’s unconscious body slumped uncomfortably over his keyboard. You reached out, lightly brushing his greasy hair out of his eyes. He hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his face closer to your hand. Your heart beat painfully as your thumb stroked over his cheek smearing his black makeup, a tight ball forming in your throat as you watched an unconscious smile pull at the corner of his mouth.

You forcefully pulled your hand back, turning your back to him as you took a deep breath. Shaking your head, you began walking around the cave, cleaning up after the mess the man had left. Picking up pieces of his suit that were thrown throughout the cave, cleaning and putting away weapons, organizing his journal entries, throwing away old cups of ramen.

You took a moment to look through a stack of papers scattered on the table, making notes of names and addresses you may be able to get information or intel on without him knowing. Putting post-its on the information you believed would help him solve his case.

Once you were satisfied with your job, you walked back over to Bruce who hadn’t moved a muscle. You grabbed a blanket thrown over one of the chairs, draping it over his body. Leaning down you brushed a feather-light kiss to his forehead before turning and making your way back up into the manor.

Bruce’s bedroom was still bare like it had been a year ago. His dark sheets crumpled in a pile on the floor, dozens of lamps with old flickering bulbs haphazardly lighting the room. With a glance at your watch, you settled for making his bed, turning off the lamps, and leaving a cup of water and medicine on his night stand.

Your watch beeped and you quickly shot out of the room and down the stairs. As you wove through the numerous rooms, you passed the empty lounge Alfred had been sitting in, before finally slipping into the kitchen, coming to halt as you ran into the man in question.

He stood there silently. A beat passed. Another.

“How is he?” You whispered.

Alfred’s eyes flashed and your heart dropped.

Alfred cleared his throat, “I am not one to tell you how to live your life. But I see how painful this is for you, do you think – “

You cut him off with a pained smile, “No. If he won’t let me be around when he’s awake the least I can do is be there for him when he’s not.”

“If I may – “

You sighed, “Alfred –“

Your watch beeped again and you jumped. Moving around Alfred, you pulled out the frozen meals you had stashed in the freezer a couple weeks ago and piled them into the fridge.

“Please, just make sure he – “

Alfred nodded, his eyes sad as he took in the exhaustion on your face and the defeated way your shoulders slumped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce woke with a jolt, his heart beating erratically as he listened for what could have woken him. He pushed himself up with a pained groan, a blanket slipping from his shoulders. He turned in confusion grabbing it before it fell to the ground.

His brows furrowed as he caught a trace of a familiar scent, his eyes shutting as he remembered the last time he had seen you. The way the tears had welled in your eyes when he told you he never wanted to see you again, that you meant nothing to him.

He shook his head. He was just wishing for what he could never have. There were times when he swore he could feel your presence. That you were there, just out of reach. But every time he looked, there was nothing. Maybe one day soon he would be able to wake up and not immediately wish he could see your face.

Maybe one day. But for now he would dream. His grip tightened on the blanket as he wrapped it around him once more, breathing in the lingering scent, pretending it was your arms around him.

#bruce wayne x reader #the batman x reader #batman x reader #my fanfics #the batman #the batman spoilers #battinson x reader

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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

Text

Code Star

Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)

Words: 2030

Masterlist!

"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.

"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.

"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.

It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.

After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.

You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.

Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.

He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.

"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.

You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.

"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.

His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.

You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.

"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.

"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.

"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.

"Sleeping pills?"

"Insomnia."

"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.

"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.

"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.

"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"

"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.

"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.

"What? Like a friend?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.

“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.

'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.

'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.

'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.

You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.

You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.

A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.

"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."

He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.

You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.

His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.

"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.

His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.

"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.

"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.

"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.

"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.

"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.

He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.

"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.

All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.

"Tell me," you whispered.

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.

"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.

"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."

"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.

You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.

He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.

Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."

"Love you," he murmured.

#bucky barns fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barns

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Note

How about a Loki x reader.. Tony moves his baby sister into the compound after something happens to her but he won’t tell anyone what. She refuses to leave her room until everyone is in bed. She comes out one night and is caught by Loki. She immediately apologizes and becomes so shaken up that she drops her things and breaks a glass. Then it hits him why she was secretly moved in. Tony had discovered his little sister living in a bad situation with her now ex and suffered years of abuse. Loki decides then to take his time to make her feel safe again and they eventually fall for each other.

A/N: I hope this works! I got really sappy at the end, but I also don’t know how to end these one shots. This is a bit of a lengthy one, so bear with me.

He’s Not Him

Summary: Tony Stark has enough of his sister’s ex and moves her into the Avengers Tower. After taking notice of her shy and timid behavior, Loki digs deep at her past, making him want to make her feel safe.

Pairing: Loki x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2993

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of domestic abuse, language

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Y/E/N - your ex’s name

*If you or someone you know is being domestically abused, please reach out to 911 or call 800.799.SAFE (7233) for help. Love you all*

Tony storms into his sister's apartment. After standing outside of her door for a half hour, he bashed in the door at the the sound of a scream from inside. Frantically, he pushes his way around the furniture and bursts into your bedroom. His eyes go wide at the sight of you on the floor in a ball and your ex boyfriend above you with a fist out. Stark grabs your ex’s fist and rips him away from you, pushing him into your dresser.

“Get the fuck out!” Tony screams.

“Oh, the great Tony Stark is here. What are you going to do? Drop a bomb on me?”

You’ve never seen Tony’s skin turn so red. He storms forward and punches your ex square in the nose, sending him down on the ground. Tony unleashes all his energy until the man is left with a broken nose and multiple bruises.

“Get. Out.”

Your ex runs out of your room, without missing the chance to break a few things, and out of your apartment. You look up out of your ball to see Tony rushing to your side with panic in his eyes. He lifts up your head as you climb into his lap.

“Come here, darling. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” He coos.

You cry into the crook of his shoulder as he rocks you back and forth, his hand on your back.

“I’m getting you out of here,” He says, placing you on your bed, “I’m taking you to the tower with us.”

Tony leaves you on your bed as he gets a suitcase and packs your things. He gathers all of your clothes and some of your possessions like books, drawings, and others. You can feel the tears starting to dry on your skin as you stop crying. Tony doesn’t miss the way you start to uncurl and the bruises on your neck show up. His face drops to see the choking marks on your neck.

“I’m… so sorry, Y/N. I should have been here to protect you.”

You shake your head at him as he joins you on the bed. Tony reaches around your head to undo your ponytail and cover the bruises.

“There, now no one will ask you about them.”

You give him a gentle smile which eases him a little. He leans forward and kisses your forehead before taking your hand and helping you up. Tony and you walk out of your building and into the garage where Happy is in the car. He drops you off for five minutes to go talk to your landlord about you leaving.

“You’re going to be okay,” Happy reassures you.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out.

He gives you a warm smile. He has always made you smile throughout the years. Tony comes back, joins you in the car, and takes off to the tower.

Upon arrival, you look up at the large tower in awe. You’ve visited a couple of times, but that was a year ago since your ex didn’t allow you to see Tony much. It’s always been impressive. You were thankful for Tony letting you live on your own and make something of your own life instead of letting you mooch off of his fortune, but you do regret sometimes not letting him support you more. You were always so proud of him.

Tony carries your luggage as he leads you to the elevators. He looks down at you every so often, noticing the anxious way you bite your nails.

“You’re safe here. We have the best security and you’ll be surrounded by trained assassins and heroes. They’ll protect you, I promise.”

You nod your head at Tony’s words. As much as they help you, you don’t really want to see or talk to anyone. After having your ex break into your house every day for two weeks, you want to be alone except for the occasional visit from Tony.

The elevator doors open and reveal you and your brother to the Avengers who are all lounging in the living area. They turn to look at you with puzzled faces, making you nervous and hide behind Tony’s arm. He lets you stay behind him instead of forcing you to say hi as you exit the elevator.

“Everyone, this is my sister, Y/N. She’s going to stay here from now on so be nice to her,” Tony announces.

Everyone says hi to you but you stay silent behind Tony. He doesn’t question it even though the others look at one another in concern. Steve thinks to himself that you can’t be that rude, but given the way you look, everything must be very different to you from the rest of your life. You look shocked and scared.

Looking at the Avengers, you take in each and everyone’s appearance. Bucky and Nat look the scariest in your opinion and you make a mental note to stay away from them. Sam, Steve, and Clint look nice, but Wanda looks like the sweetest lady in the universe. She has a smile that warms your heart. Turning to your right, you see two very tall men standing and staring at you.

The taller one has blonde hair and a big grin on his face. He has a large stature, but he does not look intimidating. He has a golden retriever energy to him, but the man next to him is a different story. With his pitch black hair and powerful stand, the other man stares at you with daggers in his eyes. He sends shivers down your spine without saying anything.

You drag your eyes away from the intimidating man and follow Tony down the hallway. He leads you to your room where you get settled in, unpacking your clothes and putting away your things. Laying in the bed, you take a big nap which is needed. You feel as if you let out a breath you’ve been holding for days. The idea of being away from your ex finally settles in and you feel the wave of relief wash over your body, letting you drift away into sleep.

You’re woken up by Tony letting you know dinner is being served. He lets you know that you’re not being expected to come out and eat with everyone, which you appreciate. Ten minutes later, he comes by your room and slips a plate of food in your room as he opens the door, letting you eat alone.

Tony returns to the living room by the other Avengers eating and gathered around the couch. He takes his plate and sits next to Pepper who has her own food, smiling at him as he joins.

“So, your sister?” Sam asks.

“Don’t even think about it. She is not to date any of you.”

“Woah, I didn’t say that,” Sam laughs.

“But we know what you meant,” Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes, “She seems shy.”

“She is. You probably won’t get a lot out of her.”

“Can I ask why she’s staying her?”

“No.”

Steve shares a look with Bucky. The elevator door opens and Peter walks into the living room.

“You guys started dinner without me?” He asks, jokingly.

“Early birds get the worm,” Steve laughs.

The group chuckles and keeps eating their food.

“Is Y/N a new Avenger?” Steve asks.

Tony sighs and rolls his eyes at the question. Everyone notices the annoyance in Tony with talking about you and collectively decide to stop asking questions. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about you much.

“No, she’s not.”

“Who’s Y/N?” Peter asks.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Nat replies.

The day goes by fast and you find yourself staring out at New York in the moonlight. You have always enjoyed the night time. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but you’ve always found peace and warmth in the New York night. Everyone goes out to party or to bed. It’s a time of joy and relaxment.

You hear the last door shut for the night, signally everyone going to bed. Looking outside of your door, you don’t spot anyone so you sprint outside to the kitchen with your empty dinner plate. Upon entering it, you search the walls for the light switch for about five minutes. There’s no other light than that except for the over. You finally find it and switch it on. As you turn around, you’re startled by the frightening black haired man standing there.

Scared, you drop your plate, shattering it on the tile floor. Your eyes go wide as you start to back up against the wall. Without saying anything, the man takes a step forward, scaring you half to death. Your mind plays tricks on you and all you can think about is your ex breaking into your home. You start to have a panic attack, sliding down against the wall, and curling up into a ball.

You miss the way Loki’s eyes go wide. He watches you descend into an anxiety attack and doesn’t know what to do, knowing he’s who caused it. Quickly, he rushes down the hallways and bangs on Tony’s doors.

“What do you want, Reindeer Games?” He groans.

“Your sister…”

Tony doesn’t wait for another word for following Loki down the corridor. He spots you panicking in the corner of the kitchen and grabs you, lifting you into his lap. You grab onto his neck and pull him close, crying into him. He lifts you up and carries you off to your room without saying a word to Loki, leaving him standing in the kitchen agape.

Not knowing what to do and unable to relax, Loki makes his way to his room and opens up an old laptop Thor had gotten him. After spending thirty minutes just to figure out how to work it, he starts googling things about you. He starts with your name and finds multiple articles on you and Tony, the Stark Industry Golden Children. You left when you were eighteen, wanting to make your own life and not follow in the family’s footsteps. He gives you credit for being yourself, something he had struggled with. He knows the feeling, not wanting to be your family.

Then a certain website catches his eye, Facebook. He finds a profile of you filled with photos and text. There are some of you with friends in the town, a couple of old coworkers wishing you a happy birthday, then there’s a photo of you with a man. There are no other photos of you with him other than this one a couple months ago. He keeps scrolling to find more photos of you with him, but they all stop after that first one. Clicking on something tagged in the caption, another profile pops up.

Y/E/N’s profile. Filled with photos of drunk nights at the club, shirtless gym time, and quotes from misogynistic authors, Loki finds himself despising this man he does not know. He scrolls through finding very little of you in his account, as if you don’t matter as much to him as he does to you. Closing his computer, Loki decided to go check on you. He’s frustrated by whoever this man is, not knowing whether he’s important or not.

Loki peeks into your room to see Tony laying next to you, brushing through your hair with his fingers. Tony looks up and meets him in the eyes. There’s slight anger, but Loki doesn’t feel pushed away. He takes a step in before Tony leans into your ear and whispers. You look up and over to Loki, but you don’t ask him to leave. Loki continues to walk into your bedroom quietly, but with a small gentle smile on his face.

“I’m sorry for scaring you earlier,” he says, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. Thanks,” you mutter.

Your voice is small and timid like a mouse. He can hear the hesitation in your voice, not knowing whether he should talk to you or not.

“Are… you okay?”

“Yes.”

Another awkward pregnant pause erupts between the two of you. Loki looks around your room as Tony continues to hold you. He whispers into your ear again before leaving.

“I’m going to go back to my room,” he says, “call me if you need me okay?”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Of course, anything for my little sister.”

He kisses your forehead and heads out of your room, leaving you and Loki alone. You don’t mind his presence anymore. After Tony tells you that Loki isn’t your ex and you’re okay, you’ve accepted him.

“I have to ask… who is that man on Facebook?”

Loki gives you a quizzical look. You think for a moment about how Loki got on Facebook and what guy he’s talking about.

“His name is Y/E/N.”

Your body clenches at the sound of his name and Loki takes a step back, looking at you. He’s never seen anyone physically close up just from a name. It may be some Midgardians thing he doesn’t understand, but the way that you are shaking, he thinks otherwise. He sits down next to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders. You lean into his touch as you attempt to calm down.

He’s not here. I’m safe. He’s not here. I’m safe.

You keep repeating that in your head, reminding yourself that you’re safe in the tower like Tony said. Looking up at Loki, you see his concerned face. He cares. This man you barely know cares about you.

He’s not him. He’s not him. He’s not him.

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m being quite an ass asking you these questions without manners. I’m Loki.”

Loki, not Y/E/N. He’s not him. He’s not him.

“Well, L-Loki,” you say with a stutter, “He’s uh… my ex. Ex boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

He nods as he takes in the information at hand. Your ex, who makes you quiver in fear even over people who have done nothing to her, has no photos of you. He shares his lavish lifestyle that most would presume belongs to a single man. Loki looks back at your depressed ridden face. The color in your skin has drained from you and you’re staring blank cold at the wooden floors under your bed. Loki places a hand on your neck to move your hair and give you a light massage, but you flinch away from him before he is able.

Loki’s never seen so much fear and worry in someone’s eyes before. You jerk away from him muttering yourself, as if it were taking everything in you to not scream. He looks over you to see bruises along your neck where your hair had moved from when you moved. A wave of anger runs through his body, infuriating him. He did that to you. That’s why you’re so afraid of him.

“Did he-”

“Yes.”

Loki rises from your bed and clenches his fists. You see the anger pouring from him and rush to his side before he can storm off. You grab his arms and force him to look at you.

“Please, don’t… don’t do anything.”

“Why shouldn’t I? No man should ever do that to a woman, especially you.”

“Just let it be.”

He releases his fist but the fury in his eyes doesn't. You pull him towards you to make him sit again. Moving in closer, you lean into him. Loki wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. The two of you lay down in your bed, you curled up on him as he held you, running his fingers in your hair.

For some reason, Loki feels as if he has to protect you. The way you ball up gives him this sense of innocence about you. You haven’t done anything to deserve those injuries, just live your life and try to find love. Loki always knew there was a good reason to hate Midgardians, not just for their stupidity and now he’s found it.

The two of you fall asleep without realizing it. The light from the sun peaking in the windows wakes you. Stirring in bed, you look up to see Loki under you, his arms holding you against him by your waist. You're cradled into his chest as his chin barely rests on the top of your head. Loki’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of you moving on top of him. He looks down at you and smiles.

The way the light shines on your face makes you look angelic. Your smile warms his heart and the warmth of your body against him makes his heart jump. You turn over to face him, leaning up on your shoulders over his head.

“Hi.”

“Hello, darling.”

“You slept here.”

“Both of us did, actually,” he laughs.

You drop your head laughing. Loki’s sweet laugh fills the room and blesses your ears. He’s not too bad to be around. He’s quite kind and sweet.

“Thank you for last night.”

“For what? If I remember correctly, I gave you a panic attack.”

“I mean the way you calmed me down and held me. It was needed.”

“Well, I’m glad I could do that for you.”

Loki means it when he says it. Looking at you now, there’s not much he wouldn’t do for you. You don’t deserve what the world gives you, especially that asshole Y/E/N. He would hold you for the rest of time if that meant keeping you safe.

You won’t lie either when you tell Loki he makes you feel safe. Every day before he sneaks off to his room so the others don’t know he spends the night with you, you tell him that he makes you safe. He never believes you. He’s shocked that anyone could feel safe with a monster like him, but after all to you, Loki is not him.

#loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki #loki x reader fluff #tony stark x sister!reader #tony stark x reader sister #loki x stark!reader #loki x reader stark #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel x reader #loki oneshot

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acidwidow · 2 years

Text

BITTERSWEET

a/n - This is my first avengers fic! I’m gonna make it into a mini(?) series, I wrote this in my notes at 3am lool, I hope you guys like it

Warnings - Angst, short haired bucky (yes it’s a warning bc that man is too fine)

Summary - After a bad breakup you’re forced to move in with your brother Steve at the avengers compound, will old relationships rekindle the fire in you that was once lost?

You cannot be happening. You had just woken up way too hungover and not at all prepared for the confrontation waiting for you downstairs. Drinking for 4 days in a row does a number on you and your mom was sick of watching you drown your sorrows and has finally found a way to ‘help you’.

“You can’t just ship me away because you don’t wanna deal with me anymore!”

“Y/N I cannot keep watching you destroy your life, you’re going to stay with your brother, it’ll be good for you. I know how you feel. It’s final.”

The salty taste of your tears on your lips make you somehow feel more nauseous than you already do. The partying, drinking, drugs, all of it is a way to cope with the man that broke your stupid heart in two.

He knew how much you loved him, he finally admitted he was with you purely because your brother was Captain America. Your high school sweetheart was a lie, are you meant to be frolicking through daisies?

“You have no idea how I feel right now, NO GOD DAMN IDEA! I’m not going, I’m an adult, and I’m not leaving.”

She sighs, exasperatedly running her hands across her face. You know this is coming from a place of love and worry on her behalf but right now all you feel is betrayal and anger running through your veins like fire.

A small brown envelope addressed to you is slid across the table, looking down you snatch it, turning away to storm out towards your car.

Head against the steering wheel, you wonder how you got to this point in your life exactly. How does one man manage to pull the wool over your eyes the way Ryan did, usually you can read people like a book.

“Stupid! Stupid idiot!” You scream and bang your fists against the wheel until your hands go numb. A feeling you’re well accustomed to these days.

You rip open the envelope, terrified for what could be awaiting you inside.

Y/N L/N

Flight NY-2287

From Boston Logan International Airport

To Manhattan Regional Airport

One way ticket

A dry chuckle left your lips, the salt hitting your tongue from the tears shed in the screaming match that had just occurred in your dining room. One way ticket?

“I can’t believe she’s getting rid of me.”

—————————————

Packing your bags proves to be slow and torturous, your mom standing in the door way, throwing suggestions towards you as you chuck a handful of underwear into the open luggage.

“You know, this is for your own good, you’ll be able to see Steve and James again. I know you miss them too, you need this.”

“It seems like you know what I need so there’s no point giving my opinion on this anymore, you’ve already made your decision mom.”

Out of the corner of her eye you see her hang her head. Shame maybe? No, she made her bed and she has to lie in it now. Maybe once you’re gone she’ll realise she made a mistake. Being around Steve will be just another reminder of your heart ache.

You close your eyes as the sound of her footsteps dissipate down the stairs.

You know you can’t blame him, or mom, but that doesn’t stop the rage surging through your body every time something reminds you of what’s happened.

The Captain America T-shirt staring at you as it sits on your bedroom floor. You bought it the day Steve’s merch came out officially. You bask in the memory of how proud you are of him for a moment before the memories of the last two months come rushing back to you and leave a fiery pit in the bottom of your stomach.

Trudging down the stairs, suitcase in one hand, your phone in the other and a bag clinging to your left shoulder that feels like a ton of bricks.

Your mom eyes you from the kitchen table. The same place you seem to be screaming at each other every morning. Closing her book she stands up and walks towards you, a small smile on her face before she opens her arms, signalling you to hug her.

You swallow your pride and wrap your arms around her, tears welling in your eyes for the second time this morning.

“I’m gonna miss you, try not to sass your brother too hard and give him a massive hug from me. I love you Y/N/N.” she mumbles into your hair. Pulling back and placing her hand softly onto your cheek, wiping a couple stray tears that managed to escape your eyes .

You nod curtly, adjusting your backpack and walking through the door towards your car. You feel her eyes lingering on you as you chuck your belongings into the trunk. The thoughts of ‘accidentally’ missing your plans are cut off by your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

Dumbass: see you soon dude

Dumbass: You’ll see us when you get off the plane, hope you appreciate the sign. It was a group effort

You roll your eyes at the message, imagining the Avengers with glitter and sharpies, making a cardboard sign to welcome you back into New York.

You: Better be great considering i’m being forced against my will to come

————————————

“Y/N Welcome back!” The sign reads, accompanied by swirls, bright colours and what seems like steve’s shield, alas badly drawn. Steve and Bucky stand with the sign above their heads, grinning from ear to ear when they spot you in the crowd of people clambering to get to their respective families.

Bucky takes a couple steps forward and flings his arms around you, picking you up in a bear hug for what seems to feel like a life time.

“Let me down you oath!!” You squeal, wiggling around in his super human grip until he finally lowers you to the ground.

“Good to see you too kid.”

You groan at the nickname. “Ugh don’t call me that, I’m an adult now Buck.”

He lets out a chuckle as Steve walks towards you and claps you on the back, the famous Steve Rogers smile still on his face as he takes your bags.

“I missed you Y/N/N”

“Oh and by the way, you’ll always be our little sister.”

The word ‘Our’ leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. Your childhood crush on Bucky never left, only simmered once he moved away, faded even more so into the background when you were infatuated with Ryan.

This is going to be a long trip.

#avengers x platonic reader #steve rogers #mcu #stucky #bucky barnes x reader #avengers #captain america #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #natasha romanoff #iron man #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff

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redorich · 3 years

Note

for the hermit canyon, i humbly request:

Etho messing with Karl and maybe like, Lazarbeam or Fundy, by pretending he’s moth man.

Quackity stalks through the woods, blissfully unaware of its other inhabitants-- not that he would care, if he knew. No, tonight, under the full moon (because it's romantic) he makes his move.

The Hermit, as Quackity is completely sure of, is a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair as white as snow. Because she is a creature of untold power and beauty, fairy tale logic obviously applies. Therefore, if Quackity can steal her clothes, she will have no choice but to marry him and they will live happily ever after as big booty bitches in love.

Nodding to himself, Quackity feels assured in his logic. He's wearing his favorite assless chaps, his best pair of knockoff Yeezys, and no shirt. He is ready for what is to come.

---

Karl lurks deep in the forest, illuminated only by the moon. He leans against a tree, taking care not to disturb his outfit-- he is camouflaged as a bush. Dangling strips of green and brown fabric cover his body, and his limbs are completely hidden in the costume so long as he stands still. It's a daunting task, standing still in the dark, dangerous woods at night. Nevertheless, Karl knows that this is what he must do.

"Triclops Mothman, my beloved," he whispers into the night. He will find Mothman, and he will marry Mothman. There is no alternative.

---

Far away from both Karl and Quackity, though still in the same spruce forest, Sapnap angrily prowls. Well, he'd describe it as a prowl. Truthfully, it's more of a pouty stomp. He knows that this forest has had multiple "Hermit sightings", and Sapnap wants-- no, needs what he's after.

"Hermit!" he screams into the night. "Come out and fight me, you little bitch! Man on man!"

To emphasize his point, he bangs a pot and a pan against each other several times. Sapnap is getting his revenge for that little ravager prank, one way or another.

---

Deep within the canyon walls, the Hermit complex looks like an overturned anthill with all its activity. It's Halloween night come early.

"I'm not wearing a dress," Etho insists.

Grian whines, "But Etho, I made it just for you! It matches Stress's outfit."

Stress, upon hearing her name, looks up from her book and waves. Cleo is currently fiddling with the thick mane of synthetic white hair Stress is wearing, styling the wig into a princess-y type braid.

"I'll say it again," Cleo says, looking very intently into Etho's eyes, "I could take your place."

"No," Etho sighs. "If what Puffy said about these guys is true, you'd probably bite someone's face off by the end of the night."

"You're no fun," Cleo huffs, but acquiesces.

"At least put on the wig," Grian demands.

Grian and Etho have a staring contest for a solid ninety seconds before Etho snaps his fingers in front of Grian's face, causing him to flinch and blink. "You cheater--!"

"I'll wear the wig," Etho interrupts Grian. Instantaneously, Grian loses his outraged moue.

Cleo sighs. "They're the same wig, right? Do I have to braid Etho's hair, too?"

"I think I'll be fine with my new flowing, luscious locks," Etho says with a humorous crinkle to his eyes.

They all laugh as Etho dramatically flips his fake hair, whipping himself in the face with it in the process. He also receives a thumbs up from Joe, who is in the process of searching for his contact lenses because "Herobrine doesn't wear glasses", according to Bdubs.

Night falls, and the Hermits are prepared. They hope their victims aren't.

---

Quackity catches a glimpse of silver-white after so long searching in the woods. With a little gasp, he eagerly pursues it. His beautiful maiden, ethereal and distant like the moon, darts between trees and leaps across creeks like she is flying, like her feet barely touch the ground.

He follows her to a clearing, but when he bursts through the brush into the open space, she is nowhere to be found.

“Mi rey!” he wails, “Fantasma hermosa! Come to papi!”

Etho, hiding in a tree about five feet away, has no clue what any of those words mean. He affects a terrible falsetto and throws his voice. “Hello, Quackity.”

Quackity jumps, looking around wildly for his beautiful girlboss queen. “Hermit?! You know my name?”

“Of course, Quackity,” Etho says, hefting a large rock in his hand. “Come closer, I have a cask of Amontillado we can share.”

Quackity turns toward Etho's voice just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the Hermit's mask, his (fake) long white hair, his decidedly not female appearance. Quackity looks the Hermit up and down. Etho has never felt more Perceived.

"What's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Quackity says, flirtatiousness dripping from his voice.

Etho eyes the man's assless chaps with distaste from his crouched perch in a tree. Quick as lightning, he chucks the heavy rock in his hand at Quackity's head, knocking him out instantly.

Etho jumps down from his tree with a huffed sigh. "Well," he says, grabbing Quackity by the ankle and dragging him, "time to get to work."

---

"Pspspsps," Karl whispers, "heeeere Mothman..."

The sound of a twig snapping to his right makes Karl freeze, then turn ever so slowly. There's no one there. Karl holds his breath for what feels like an eternity, but is eventually forced to admit that the noise was probably just an animal. Surely, a creature of Mothman's size would make more noise when he walks, given the weight of his strong legs.

"Mothman," Karl says. "I wrote you a poem!"

Joe, who was up until this point hiding behind trees and ominously snapping twigs, feels a twinge of morbid curiosity. As a poet, he absolutely has to know what Karl considers an adequate love poem for Mothman.

With red cheeks, Karl professes his love:

"Your feelers make me feel so sweet

Your hindwings set my heart aflame

Fern-like antennae make me melt

And Mothman, you're to blame."

Despite himself, Joe is a little bit impressed. It almost makes him feel bad about what he's about to do-- almost.

A soft eerie glow seeps into the forest, catching Karl's eye. He investigates, creeping forward until he turns around a tree and sees glowing white eyes. He screams, but there is no sound, and the forest has disappeared. Only those eyes remain, and they too flicker out of existence.

There is a dim corridor ahead of him, narrow and lit by redstone torches. At the end, there is an iron door. He runs to the exit, but as soon as his hand touches the door it disappears and he is engulfed by swirling purple-- like a Nether portal, but so much more terrifying.

The purple is gone and he can just barely make out the menacing image of a man with glowing white eyes T-posing in the blackness. Karl opens his eyes and wakes up on the forest floor, prone and sore.

"Right," he mutters breathlessly to himself, "Mothman is not interested."

---

"--YOU BITCH ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND STICK 'EM ON YOUR HEAD!" Sapnap screams, banging the only pot he owns against a non-stick frying pan he stole from George.

"Well, that's not very nice, innit?" says a feminine voice. Sapnap looks left, right, behind him, up in the trees... then down.

Big brown eyes peer up at him through white bangs. A displeased pout set into a moon-pale face attached to an equally moon-pale woman chastises him without words.

"...You're the Hermit?" Sapnap says disbelievingly. He has his doubts that someone as small and pretty as this woman could wrangle a ravager onto his front lawn.

"You wanted a fight," she huffs. "And for the record, you totally had it coming, with Pamela's Revenge-- remember, the rava--"

"Yes, I know the ravager was named Pamela's Revenge! There were like eight hundred million death messages in chat about it, you jackass!" Sapnap snaps, trying to cover up his unease. It's not that he's hesitant to hit her because she's a girl; he would deck the shit out of Niki or Puffy with absolutely no provocation whatsoever. It's just that... she looks soft. Like a non-combatant. It would be too easy, too cruel--

Stress punches Sapnap in the jaw with a wicked right hook. "Stealing is wrong," she says.

While Sapnap is dazed and quite possibly mildly concussed, Stress follows up with a brutal kick to the shin. Sapnap makes a genuine effort to fight back, and he’s no slouch, but he’s been taken so thoroughly off guard that the best he can do with his head spinning as it is is to swing with a wild haymaker and hope it hits.

His fist makes contact with something soft and squishy. He hears a grunt, but Stress shoves him over onto the ground and dumps a bucket of glitter over his head. It burns his eyes, but more importantly it burns his pride. He doesn’t remember at what point he dropped his pot and pan (he must have at some point, because he punched the Hermit with an empty fist), but he’s angry enough to open his watery eyes through the magenta glitter and snatch George’s frying pan up off the forest floor, hurling it at the Hermit with devastating accuracy. She yelps, blocking with her forearm at the last moment.

“Knew I shoulda let Etho...” Sapnap hears the Hermit mutter. What’s an Etho?

Stress irritably bonks Sapnap on the head with the pan he threw at her. He goes limp like a ragdoll, and Stress sets about maneuvering his body into a sitting position leaned against a tree so she can do his makeup while he sleeps.

“Hope I don’t poke his eye out!” she says. “Ah well, he’s got two anyway. Now, should I go for a cute, summery look, or a dark evening look?”

---

In Atrium 1 of the Hermit Canyon complex, Puffy laughs loud and clear, clutching her paper cup tightly so she doesn’t spill her fruit punch. "No,” she chokes out, “he didn’t.”

Cub, holding a similar paper cup, waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Yep. That’s Etho for you. You know, one time he got Doc to run around with a snowman head on, eating spider eyes?”

“Oh man,” Puffy sighs, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I’m so glad I snitched on Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap. I can’t wait to see their reactions!”

Cub grins evilly. “Stress got pictures before she left.”

Puffy gasps, stars in her eyes. “I’ll bake you a whole cake if you get me a copy.”

“I’ll bake Cub a whole cake if he gives them to me instead,” Grian interjects from across the room. “I don’t need them, I just want to take them from you.”

“Nooooo!” Puffy wails melodramatically. “Grian, please spare me!”

“Five diamond blocks,” Grian makes his demand.

Puffy continues to fake-sob, pretending not to notice Scar sneaking up on Grian until Scar drops an anvil on Grian’s head, like a Looney Tunes episode but slightly to the left. While Grian is distracted, Cub slips the pictures to Puffy, who puts them in her inventory without looking.

Etho walks into the Atrium, now dressed as his normal self, including his natural hair, which looks like an angry wet cat perched atop his head, just the way he likes it. Everyone cheers.

“So, how’d it go with Quackity?” Puffy asks with a smirk.

“Well...” Etho says.

---

Quackity wakes up with the sun in his eyes. In front of him is the public Nether portal, and standing right in front of it is a wide-eyed Sam, staring directly at him. Quackity looks down.

He’s naked, covered in half-dried honey, and tied to a pole like the world’s sexiest flag. And he’s got the world’s worst hangover-- it feels like he’s been hit in the head with a large rock.

“Not again,” he groans.

“...This happens often?” Sam asks.

“If I had a nickel for every time something like this has happened,” Quackity says, wiggling his way out of the ropes tying him to the pole, “I’d have enough money to go buy myself a pair of pants.”

Sam averts his eyes to the sky, abruptly aware of exactly why Quackity would feel the need to buy a pair of pants.

“Damn it,” Quackity says. “Those were my favorite pair of assless chaps.”

“Were they now,” Sam says numbly. The sky is quite blue today, it’s rather beautiful.

Quackity huffs in aggravation, finally having freed himself from his binds. “Yeah, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to, you know?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says slowly. “I wouldn’t know much about-- assless chaps.”

The naked man shrugs. Haltingly, Sam unclasps his cape, pulling it off his shoulders and offering it to Quackity.

“Nah,” Quackity says, “I’ll just streak.”

“Please don’t,” Sam says with pain in his eyes.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap #grian #ethoslab #stressmonster #zombiecleo #captain puffy #joe hills #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #awesamdude #me.cpp #me.txt

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pleasantanathema · 3 years

Text

Haunting

Paring: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Shower sex, rough sex, possessive sex, light choking, dirty talk, slight yandere undertones

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you to anon who requested this! I have a very, very soft spot for Reiner thanks to @present-mel. I, once again, got a little carried away. I’ve been wanting to Reiner for a long time now, so thank you for giving me the encouragement and the idea to do so! 💕 My requests are still open

Reiner was like a shadow, always finding you, always haunting you with heavy footsteps and flaming eyes, a revenant with wrath in his hands and agony between his knuckles. He’d always grip you too tightly, leaving bruises to swell and bloom upon your skin when he was gone again. But he never strayed for too long, the demons in his mind were always begging to be satiated, always craving to take more of you.

Tonight was no different. You heard him before you felt him, weighted boots clunking into a wall as he removed them, the shrill of the shower curtain being pulled back as he exposed the cold air of the washroom against your heated skin. You jumped at the intrusion, arms instinctively wrapping around your body as you looked up at him, gaze tracing the steam that billowed over his broad shoulders. The lighting was low, dull yellow lights buzzing on the ceiling that carved him into a dark figure before you.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he spoke the words like they were a universal truth, something that already was and always would be.

You felt overwhelmed in his presence, his mountainous stature making you step away until your back hit the shower wall, feet cold against the tile floor.

For a moment, you wondered if anyone else was in the showers, if there would be any untoward ears to listen to the depravity that was about to unfold. Reiner was never good at keeping you quiet.

“Looks like you found me.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your cheeks as he stepped into the warm spray of water, rivulets dripping down his body like rivers between lines of muscle.

His massive hands were on you in haste, always attracted to the most vulnerable parts of you. It made him feel powerful to have a fist around your throat, the other shoved between your thighs as his mouth descended upon yours. You moaned against his greedy mouth, his lust making you feel confident, brave against his brawn. You could feel the desire steaming off his skin as your hands pooled against his chest, fingers lost against plush pectorals.

“Miss me?” he rumbled against your lips, tongue sweeping into your mouth before you could answer. You nodded your head, feeling his thumb and index finger press tighter against the column of your neck. You gasped against the taste of him—bitter and sweet, like elderberries and dark wine—his fingers between your thighs spreading your pussy, gliding between your wet folds in a familiar rhythm.

His fingers were wicked and well-trained, the wrath within them always coming alive against your body. No matter how many times you begged him not to, he’d always leave fresh prints against your throat, ghosts to remember him by, to ward off others. And he was brutal with your cunt, thick fingers plunging into your delicate heat quick and hard, the pleasure feeling like the jolting bite of a viper.

“Fuck, Reiner…” he ate up your words, sucking at your lips as your thighs spread wider to accommodate his ravenous fingers.

One of your hands tangled in his wet hair, nails scraping at the blonde roots. The other trailed down the wall of his body to where his hard cock was twitching against your belly, impatient and ready to take what belonged to him.

He roughly pumped two fingers in and out of you, smirking as he felt your body shaking and reacting to his touch. It felt so good, too good, heat rushing through your veins with every fresh plunge into your pussy. You slanted your mouth against his in a breathy moan, the stubble against his cheeks brushing against your face. You wrapped your hand around his cock, sliding your palm against the wet, silken skin, splashes of hot water still spilling over your bodies.

“Such a pretty plaything,” he groaned, releasing your neck from his paw so his mouth could dip down to suck at your skin, “always ready to spread your legs for me.”

“I have to be ready, you—fuck, you always want me.”

Pride welled within your chest as he gave an affirmative groan, your head lolling back against the chilled brick of the shower wall. You always hated these dank showers, though now you were sure to have pleasant memories whenever you stepped into this one; memories of a colossal body pressing into yours, of a man so overcome with lust he would hunt you down and take you even here.

You disliked him when you first met him, loathed how he coated himself in arrogance. But over time you found the cracks within his armor, found the broken man underneath who seemed to piece back together whenever he could get his hands on you, pour his sin into where your bodies became one.

Reiner curled his fingers inside of you, making your vision flash white for a moment. Your gripped his cock a little tighter as your stomach muscles clenched from the pleasure, your pussy pulling his fingers in deeper.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna cum if-if you don’t stop, and I know you want me too…” he always wanted you to cum on his cock.

He licked a wet stripe up your neck with his tongue, smirk painting his face as he relinquished his hand from your dripping cunt. He washed his fingers off under the spray of water, lips back to yours as he crushed your thighs within his hands.

“Up,” he commanded, too easily coaching your feet from the floor with his strength. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his broad shoulders providing ample support for your balance. You felt his too-hard cock bounce against your body as he heaved you into the air.

“Been thinking about this all day, princess.”

“Thinking about me in the shower?”

His cockhead nudged at your folds, carefully spreading you apart. You sucked in a breath at the feeling, Reiner’s hands sliding to cup your ass, fingers mean against your flesh.

He snapped his hips forward, plunging his cock into your depths in one swift motion, sending your head flying back against the wall as your mouth fell open with the drawl of a long moan, eyes squeezed shut as your body attempted to adjust to his almost unbearably fat cock.

“Mhm, been thinking about that face, how you look so pretty when I stuff you,” he rocked his hips, sliding his cock from within your tight pussy only to slam back inside, “just like this.”

Curses tumbled out of your throat, onto your lips, falling onto his wet skin and bouncing off the walls of the shower. You felt so full, like some missing part of you was finally shoved back into place to make you whole. Yet you felt like you were cracking, coming undone around the saturation of your senses. Your lungs burned, legs already aching from being spread across his thick waist, neck still stinging from the ghost of his fist.

“Oh god, oh god, that’s so good.”

It never failed to amaze you that every time felt new, that his cock always sent you spinning and gasping and clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling into a ravishing abyss.

Each thrust had your shoulders banging against the wall, jostles of pain and pleasure tingling through your body. You rolled your hips down to meet him, though his tight grasp on your body kept you steadily in place as he pounded into your pussy, a mixture of water and slick pooling where your bodies were joined.

He looked up at you with a cocky grin, one ready to split his handsome face, canine teeth bared as he watched your body bounce from his callous actions.

“Who owns you?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, your mind too blissed out to answer him right away. He took this as a sign that you needed to be reminded, needed his cock pushed into you harder and faster to find your words.

“Fucking say it!”

“Ah-ah, you! Shit, fuck, you, Reiner, yours!”

He roared with satisfaction at your confession, wicked laughter mixed into his grunts and groans as he continued to use your body for a means to his own end. Your head hung low, resting against one of your arms that still held on too tightly to his neck. Your moans were overshadowed by his sounds, high pitched mewls bleeding into the chorus of growls from his chest and the beating of cooling water against the tiles.

“Louder, I want the whole goddamn barracks to hear you, let them hear how good I make you feel.”

You screamed as he picked up his already inhuman pace, strangled whines fed by the curling, toiling ecstasy building within your belly, swirling and climbing up your limbs, ready to burst from your core.

“Reiner, Reiner, Reiner...”

It was a cry to the heavens, a call to a god that had already enraptured you, ensnared you into his brutal arms like you’d never touch the earth again.

“Think you can do it, princess? Think you can cum just from my cock splitting you apart?”

God you could, you would, you were so fucking close, every single time his cock buried itself inside of you, you felt that hot thread of sanity threatening to rip, ready to tear apart.

He shifted your weight slightly, that iron grip on your backside sliding up to your hips, angling you to take him deeper, to have your clit brushing against the thatch of golden curls at the base of his cock. The new stimulation set you alight, had your lucidity burning away as your pussy clenched and sucked at his cock. The lewd sounds of your sloppy cunt hit your ears, the sound and sensation of his balls slapping against your ass cheeks, of his deep, pleasured rumbles echoing against your chest. It was enough, enough to have you crashing into a fiery lake of pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, Rei-ner,” his name stayed on your tongue, a continuous, honeyed sound of bliss as your world fell apart. You felt your orgasm in your toes, in your ears, even your too-numb fingers that were sunk into the sinews of his shoulders. Every nerve ending was bursting, bright and hot and too much as your pussy fluttered around his thick cock. In your delirium, you’d barely noticed that he’d stopped, that he was holding you flush against him as he poured himself inside of your body.

It wasn’t until his cum was leaking out of you that you awoke from the pleasure-induced state.

You felt used, useless, body so heavy against him, in his arms, that you felt like you were falling when he set you back onto unsteady feet. And, for the first time, you clung to him afterwards, face pressed into his chest where his heart hammered away. He caged you into a sweet embrace, big hands smoothing over your wet hair as you shivered from the chill of the water gone cold.

“Don’t,” you took in a sharp breath, calming the rush of afterglow emotions flooding your nerves, “don’t leave this time.” You felt like he’d shattered you. There was an urge inside of you to linger with him, to keep near in order to find that euphoria again, to feel whole again.

“You never want me to stay,” he whispered, lips kissing at the crown of your head.

You normally never did. Usually, it was about this time that you’d feel disgusted with yourself for letting such a beast of a man use you whenever he felt like it, but tonight was different. You felt the haunting stop; you felt him real and full against the borders of his composure, felt like you were both broken, broken and needing to be repaired again.

You pulled yourself from his too-heavy arms, quickly shutting off the stream of the water so you could grab at a towel and wrap it around yourself for warmth.

“I need you,” to stay, you meant to finish, but the words spoken hung in the air to be caught by keen ears.

Reiner stood behind you, palms brushing down your arms as he kissed your dewy neck, tongue eager to drink from your skin.

You’d never felt his touch so gentle, never felt the burdens he carried within his fingers to be so weightless.

“I know you do.”

You weren’t sure if he said it for you or for himself.

You followed him to his room that night, body aching to be touched again, to be held, to be soothed away by the shadow that haunted you.

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