#anyway soundtrack of all time obviously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedropascallme · 1 year

Text

Crush

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: “The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim button down rolled up to the elbows, face…mean. Joel Miller in the flesh.”

Warnings: Smut (18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), age gap (reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is canon typical age), p in v sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), kinda mean!Joel, degradation, praise kink, orgasm denial/edging, I will sprinkle in queer Tess. If I missed anything please let me know!

Soundtrack: Crush by Ethel Cain

Joel had a problem with saying no.

He knew it made him seem soft, but he just couldn’t get it out. There was something about becoming a father that increased the negative connotation of the word; using it as a response meant hampering the needs of someone who trusted you. Or the wants. And it was always the wants he fell victim to. Sarah knew his weaknesses—she was his biggest one. A goldfish, extra dessert, a slumber party— “Sure, darlin’.”

Sarah was all he cared about, and he’d give her everything she ever wanted, even when it meant looking like a pushover.

But his window had passed; all will to live drained and replaced by pure survivalism. He pretended to get over it out of instinct, willing himself to push everything down in order to keep going.

He didn’t mind saying no anymore. He had nobody to say it to, anyway.

Maybe that made him a bad man.

~~~

You had befriended Tess by chance. She frequented the same spots you did—speakeasies and back allies, surrounded by men she wanted nothing to do with.

At least you had that much in common with her.

Tess was older than you by maybe twenty years, and you knew nearly nothing about her. You knew her name, you knew what she did to get the extra rations she kept in her front pocket, and you knew she lived with Joel Miller. You had never pried about their relationship, and all you knew of Joel was that he was as gorgeous as his reputation was mean.

She had the tendency to be hot headed, there was no doubt that she could be rough, although you felt her fire was what drew you to her in the first place. Another person who had lost everything obviously wasn’t inaccessible, but it helped that she was one of the few women that you had seen around. When she had thrown a punch so hard it nearly shattered her hand, you grabbed her and walked her home while she stumbled along with you.

No matter how watered down the whiskey in the QZ was, enough of it would do the trick.

“You ok?” You grabbed her by the waist, catching her before she fell, distracted by the blood on her knuckles. You didn’t know if it was hers or the man whose bottom tooth she had loosened.

“Guys here are as bad as fucking raiders…” She mumbled, looking down at her feet. “Could’a walked home myself.” You knew she could’ve, but the thought of letting her stagger home by herself so close to curfew made you uneasy.

Some things never change.

“Didn’t want you to,” You kept walking, one stride ahead of her at all times. “Could’ve been dangerous.”

“They know not to fuck with me,” she was giggling now, and she looked almost girlish with her features softened. “Living with Miller has its perks.”

“Wouldn’t want your boyfriend having to exact revenge just cause I let you walk home drunk.”

“What?” Tess stopped walking.

“Aren’t—sorry, are you and Joel not—?”

Tess snorted, “Joel and I are not an item. I don’t, y’know. He’s not my type.” She had sobered almost instantly. “I like my partners…feminine.”

Oh. Oops.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We get it a lot. Easy living with each other cause we’re the only two that know how to empathize with the other.” She started walking again, leaving you with space to catch up. You didn’t inquire further about what she meant, it wasn’t something anybody wanted to discuss, ever. Loss and death were everywhere, there was no need to reflect on past experiences. Especially with someone like Tess who, in all honesty, intimidated you mightily. You just jogged to meet her pace.

You followed her into the building, not that you could really explain why.

She had pushed the door open and motioned to you, silently telling you to come into what once could’ve been passed off as a $3,000/month studio apartment. She dropped her belongings on the kitchen table, getting two glasses and pouring watered-down sambuca into each one. You hated the taste, but appreciated that she seemed to genuinely want to spend time with you.

“You remember anything?” She prompted after finishing her drink.

“What?” You had barely touched yours. The anise flavored booze had a different burn than whiskey.

“Before.”

“I was little. I remember seeing Attack of the Clones. And that Scooby Doo movie.”

“I was in my thirties when those came out,” she laughed, “I fucking loved Scooby Doo.” You found yourself laughing along with her. She deadpanned after a moment, examining you.

“You’re still young. Not fair to you to have seen all that as a kid.”

“I guess. But I didn’t think episode two was all that bad.” You tried to laugh through the sudden solemnity. Tess rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head as she reached for the bottle to refill her glass.“But it’s not fair that anybody had to see any of that. Ever.” You could hardly call yourself eloquent, but she knew what you meant.

“What are you doing here?” She took smaller sips of her drink this time.

“Same thing as you.”

“Why?”

You didn’t know. “Gotta do something.”

She nodded, “I want you with me.”

“Tess, I’m flattered—I am, but I don’t, I mean—”

“I want you to work with me.” She smiled into her glass, amused by your flustered response.

Oh. Oops.

“Oh. I...mean, ok. Yeah, ok.”

The door opened and you turned toward it out of impulse. The man that was suddenly in front of you was Tess’s age, you guessed. Dark hair greying, sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up to his elbows, face…mean.

Joel Miller in the flesh.

“Joel.” Tess was stern.

“What’s this?” Joel’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You realized you had never spoken to him, never been spoken to by him. You’d only ever gawked from across the room. You felt yourself straighten your posture.

“Business. New teammate.” Tess took another sip from her glass.

Joel walked across the room, grabbing the liquor bottle and taking a swig from it before placing it back into a cabinet. He looked at you, giving you the up-and-down from where he stood at the counter.

“No.” He turned, walking into the bedroom.

Wide-eyed with concern and embarrassment, you looked at Tess.

“Be here at nine tomorrow. PM.” She said, finishing her drink and getting up to take her place on the couch.

You let yourself out.

~~~

It was obvious when you arrived the following night that Joel was still irked by your presence. Also obvious was that Tess had made him swallow his pride. She gave you your instructions at the kitchen table while you nodded along. Joel was statuesque and showed no signs of emotion or consideration towards her words.

And when Tess had explained that it would be you and Joel and only you and Joel, your brows furrowed and he still hadn’t budged.

“I’ve gotta be here,” she dictated, words coming out slowly as though she was speaking to children, “Don’t need all of us gone, it’d be too much attention. I’ll cover.”

“I can cover.” You blurted out, suddenly nervous about being alone with Joel.

“No.” Joel spoke for the first time all night. You shrunk back into yourself and kept listening.

“—Into the sewer, out to the east, all we need is booze, maybe some pharmaceutical shit if you can grab any.”

You probed, “Pharmaceuticals?”

“For us.” Tess had finished giving you the rundown, getting up from the table and walking into the bedroom, leaving you alone with Joel.

Saying nothing, he immediately started towards the door, leaving you to follow.

~~~

Contrary to popular belief, the sewers were not your ideal hang out. No matter how many times you went down there, it took days to scrub the feel and smell off of your body. If Joel cared about the dank surrounding, he didn’t show it.

When you popped the grate to crawl out, he moved to lift you slightly, but that was the only interaction you’d had on your journey. You wanted to get this over with, desperately wanted to be back in the company of anybody you could converse with. You made quick work of collecting what you needed and making your way back into tunnels below. Joel hadn’t said a word since he had objected to you taking watch, and you didn’t know why that bothered you so much; plenty of people didn’t speak to you, and you relished in it. You could walk around the QZ and not a soul would approach you—it was safer that way. Easier, too. But Joel’s silence made your head spin almost as much as his voice did. You kept looking at the way his biceps flexed under his shirt, the stern look on his face and the scar on his right temple.

Despite his cold exterior, you felt at ease in his presence. Sure, his domineering attitude was somewhat troubling to you, but his lack of emotions made you feel less paranoid. You weren’t as preoccupied with looking over your shoulder as you would’ve been otherwise thanks to his presence, and the gun slung over his shoulder acted as additional reassurance. If anything were to happen, you doubted he’d have any trouble dealing with it.

Maybe the smell of the sewer was making you delirious. Or maybe you were experiencing a genuine attraction to him—not that you expected a man that wouldn’t speak to you to feel any sort carnal desire for you. Even so, you found your mind wandering on the route back to the QZ; you could imagine him smoking the cigarettes your grandfather used to buy, Marlboro reds that he kept in a silver case. The thought of a cigarette hanging between Joel’s lips made you shiver, though you tried to tell yourself you were just cold from the clammy tunnels. You tried to hide the curious looks you shot at him, the way you studied his hands and thought up reasons as to why they would be so calloused. It could’ve been from the work he did now, but the thought of him pre-outbreak, working with his hands in the heat, wiping the sweat that dripped down his forehead...

You heard a clang somewhere along the route. Looking up, you could make out a shadow growing larger, then smaller. An unmistakable clicking followed.

Perhaps it was due to the unexpected encounter, or the daydreams still playing in the back of your head, but you found yourself frozen. If you could think straight, it would be embarrassing, but every noise was deafening, and you could feel your heartbeat in your skull.

And then you were on the floor. Joel’s full weight pinning you down before he rose up again and two shots rang out. You tried your best to regain your composure, blinking rapidly and staring into nothing. Joel looked down at you, face painted with his routine grimace only inches away from your own.

“This,” he breathed heavily, voice frayed, “is why I said no.”

But he waited for you to get up and brush yourself off before he kept walking.

“You’re a fuckin’ amateur.” He continued homewards.

~~~

You went with Tess after that. Nobody gave you an explanation—you didn’t need one. You had fucked up, made more apparent by the dismay painted on Joel’s face at your continued appearances in the apartment. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone speak to him, maybe attempt to apologize. He didn’t want to hear it; you knew as much as he did. You couldn’t even crawl back like a guilty dog with your tail between your legs, because you knew you’d just get swatted by the morning paper. And, worse, despite the obvious friction, Joel was constantly on your mind. It was humiliating that a man who never spoke to you could be the focal point of your private moments. You thought of his hands entirely too often, his name slipping out between hushed gasps in the darkness of your bedroom.

Your breaking point was the night you walked into the apartment, opening the door to barking laughter that ceased on his end the moment you crossed the threshold. It was purposeful, the way he drew his mouth into a frown as soon as your line of sight had connected. Scowling, his eyes followed you. You felt heat rise in your face and pool in your stomach.

You scowled back. You wouldn’t endure his attitude anymore.

It went on like that for weeks. You figured that if you got under his skin he’d crack, forcing him to interact with you on a higher level—even if it was shouting at you.

Joel Miller was a bad man, a mean man. You knew as well as anybody, and it pissed you off as much as it turned you on.

~~~

You had let yourself into the apartment, flipping through an old magazine to pass the time you spent waiting for Tess.

When the door opened, your gaze met Joel’s. You turned back to skimming a story about Ewan McGregor, brows furrowed as you internally questioned what had happened to him in all this.

You started the countdown for the game you were playing: Who would break first? You glanced up once or twice to see where Joel was, and he remained in the same spot in front of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on you. You crossed your legs.

“Tess isn’t here.” He spoke, and you stopped your countdown, congratulating yourself as tonight’s winner.

“I know.”

“She’s not coming.”

“I’m reading.” You turned the page, eager to read about who was dating who in August of 2000.

Joel stayed in his spot by the door before making his way to the liquor cabinet—which you had discovered were most of the cabinets in this house. He put a glass in front of you and sat across, a glass of his own in his hand as he leaned forward to put his weight on the table.

“Jared Leto and Cameron Diaz.” You mused. Joel tipped back his glass, glaring at you. “Do you ever wonder if any of these people are still out there somewhere?”

“No.”

“Imagine killing some infected schmuck and realizing it was Ryan Gosling.” You smiled, enjoying your one-sided conversation. “I’d feel kinda bad…”

“’Least you’d be puttin’ him out of his misery.”

You looked up, surveying Joel, trying to find a trace of anything that could’ve prompted his sudden embrace of your goading. “Uhuh,” you raised an eyebrow, “just don’t think I could do it.”

“You scared?”

“Of you?”

“Of surviving.”

“No. Just of an infected Ryan Gosling.” You put down the magazine. “What’s your problem, Miller?”

“What’s yours?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Then neither do I.” He got up to refill his glass, and you had déjà vu, recalling how Tess had sat you down at the table months earlier to invite you into their professional lives. She had been much friendlier even then than Joel ever was.

“You can’t fight for shit.” You turned to see Joel leaning against the counter, a bottle of whiskey in hand. You tried not to let your frustration at him show. “Hard to get good at this shit when you freeze at the first sign of trouble.”

“Shut up.” You brushed him off. You picked up the magazine again, trying to find your place.

“You know I’m right.” He drank from the bottle. For some reason you couldn’t stop yourself from standing up and facing him.

“What?”

“Y’know you can’t fight for shit. Couldn’t to save your own life. You know that. I know that. Why’d’ya think Tess always goes with you?” He put the bottle down and crossed his arms. Wrath boiled in your chest; you wanted to rationalize, tell yourself that he was mad you were winning the game he made you start playing so he opted to hit below the belt; but, Jesus, he had gotten you where it hurt. You had long prided yourself in having the ability to survive, taking care of yourself and doing whatever it took for you to see the next day. For him to waltz into the space you had found some form of comfort in, where Tess drank with and felt for you, to imply that you were a failure—just some fucking kid with a knife?

You put as much weight behind the punch you threw towards him as you could muster, aiming at for his face in the hopes that a black eye might help him register your dedication to staying alive. He barely moved, grabbing your wrist to stop any real strength your blow might’ve had.

“You can do better.” Joel provoked you further. You were breathing hard but not heavy, staring into the eyes of the man you wished you could see for the evil everybody said he was. “Do better.” He continued. You grabbed him by the collar, nose to nose; you could smell the liquor on his breath, and you were sure he could smell it on yours. You were far from drunk, and the seething anger sobered you more than a cold shower ever could.

So you had no excuse for kissing him, which is probably why it was a quick peck, testing the waters and feeling as though you owed it to yourself as much as to him to see if this was one-sided.

“That’s better.” He snaked an arm around your waist and cupped the opposite hand over the back of your head. You didn’t say a word, barely breathed at his response, before you attached yourself to him again. You forgot all about testing the waters and immediately dove in; you kissed him with an open mouth, tongue, teeth and all. He licked into you, pulling you in closer. He separated from you to speak.

“Bed.” Forever and always a man of few words. You stumbled over each other as he pulled you towards the bedroom, neither of you bothering to say anything else as you were pushed onto the bed. Joel straddled your chest, looking down at you and undoing his belt, brown eyes blown out with complete exasperation and lust.

“Y’been botherin’ me since day one,” he pulled his cock from the confines of his jeans, “bad fuckin’ attitude.” He stroked himself, still looking at you.

“Doesn’t seem to be bothering you now.” You taunted him, reaching up to wrap both hands around him and sitting up as best you could to lick across the tip of his cock. He pushed his hips forward and you took the initiative to swallow as much of him as you could; no small feat, considering his size. You managed half before you gagged. He just laughed.

“Gonna be quiet ‘round me, might as well put yourself to good use while you’re doin’ it.” He threw his head back as you licked circles over the head of his cock, hand working every inch you couldn’t push past your gag reflex. You made a noise in response to his words, though it was unclear if you meant it as an agreement or a rebuttal. You pulled yourself off of him, placing a kiss on the vein that ran up the underside of his cock. You looked up at Joel, content with your work, his breathing heavy. His hand came up to your jaw, prying your mouth open and sliding his thumb inside. You closed your lips around it and sucked, you heard him groan. He took his thumb out after a few more seconds.

“Open.” He placed his wet thumb on your chin. You opened wide, sticking out your tongue slightly, expecting him to give you his cock again. Instead, he spit directly into your mouth, before pressing on your lower jaw to force it closed. “Swallow.” You did as you were told. He shuffled himself further down your body, leaning down to kiss you, pushing his tongue between your lips before he continued moving downwards; he pulled the buttons of your flannel apart, kissing and sucking on the skin he revealed before licking over the burgeoning bruises. You thanked whatever God was out there that you had given up bras so long ago, as if it was all in anticipation of this moment. Joel’s mouth reached the waistband of your jeans, and he continued placing open mouthed kisses over your stomach as he undid your button and fly, pulling the fabric down your legs and revealing your panties. He bent forward into you, pressing his face into your clothed core, his nose and open mouth fanning hot breath across you.

“Need a good lay.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about you or himself, though he answered your silent question soon after; “That’ll keep you from bitchin’ over everythin’.” He licked a straight line over your folds, tasting the tangy wet that seeped through the fabric of your underwear. You let out a shrill whine when his tongue danced over your clit, and reached down to shed yourself of the final layer of clothing that covered your bottom half. He caught your wrist and pushed it aside. “No,” He looked up at you as he licked over you again, “been playin’ your fuckin’ game for weeks. S’my turn. Don’t get greedy, now.”

You moaned when he released your wrist from his grasp, only to begin rubbing circles over you. “Pl—ease, Joel!” You arched your back, lifting yourself up to him in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” it was barely audible, “please, Joel. Please, please…” Your eyes were hooded as you begged for more. Either he was satisfied by your attempt or took pity on you for coming undone over practically nothing, but he slid the panties down your thighs and threw them over his shoulder. He admired your naked cunt, ghosting a finger over your slit and collecting what you’d already released. He leaned back down and attached his lips to your clit, pushing his finger into you and bending it upwards. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging, earning a satisfied grunt from him. He rhythmically sucked your clit in time with the movements of his finger, adding another slowly and then increasing the pace. Over and over, he brushed the spongey spot inside of you that made you clench around him, tugging his hair tighter.

“Go—ing to, Joel, fuck! Joel—!” You were panting, fist gripping his hair.

“No.”

“Please!” You were trembling.

“No.” He was unforgiving, absolutely ruthless as he fucked his fingers into you faster, licking tight and fast over your clit. You were close to tears now, grabbing onto the pillow underneath you to stabilize yourself. You were sweating, and he was the one doing all the work, but, Christ, it took effort to hold off on cumming when he was knuckle deep in your pussy like that.

“Now.” He said, pushing up against the spot you needed him to touch most, sucking hard on your swollen clit. You all but yelled, body turning to jelly, your eyes screwed tight—all while Joel continued his ministrations. He stared at you open mouthed as you trembled. He slowed once you stopped shaking, sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

“Still gonna act like a bitch now?” He peppered kisses over your thighs.

“F…fuck y—ou, Joel Miller.” You wheezed out. He laughed, standing up to remove his shirt and trousers.

“’F’I’d known you wanted it I’d’ve done it a month ago.” He crawled over you, pressing kisses into your neck.

“Fuck you.” You finally caught your breath, and he pushed himself up enough to meet you face to face. “You’re a bad person. Everybody in the QZ knows you’re a bad man.”

“Then why are you in my bed?” He was half sincere.

“You tell me.”

“Can see the way you look at me. Terrible at keepin’ secrets. ‘Nother reason you need someone to protect you out there.” He scoffed, and you pulled him down for a kiss. Though bruising in force, you were gentler with each other. Neither of you felt inclined to use teeth this time around.

Joel pushed himself up and onto his knees, sliding his cock over your clit and pushing his tip into you slightly. You whimpered, trying to wordlessly urge him to sink into you.

“Ask me.”

“Please.”

“More.”

“Please, Joel, need it…”

“Need what, sweet thing?” You closed your eyes, savoring the nickname as it rolled off his tongue.

“Need your cock. Joel, please, I need you to fu—” He cut you off with one sharp thrust, pushing his full length into you and bottoming out. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, and Joel brought a hand down to rest on the side of your face.

“Atta girl,” his mouth hung open as he began shallowly thrusting into you, “take it all, darlin’.”

You whined, hands scrambling to touch him wherever you could reach; his shoulders, his chest, his thigh if you stretched down a bit further. It only spurred him on.

“Fuckin’ pathetic.” He pushed his hips into yours, attempting to get even deeper inside of your warm, inviting pussy. “Been such a bitch with me ‘nd now you’re so eager, huh? Li’l slut, needed t’get fucked s’all?” All you could do was let out a wonton moan, loving how he stretched you. “Gonna be nice from now on?” You couldn’t respond, could only think the word no as he sped up, sliding all the way out and all the way back into your cunt. “Answer me, girl.”

“F—uck, n—no!” You stammered.

He brought a hand down harsh on your clit, pulling out so just the tip of his cock was seated shallowly inside of you. You squeezed around it. “Don’t be a bitch,” he spanked your pussy again, “tell me the truth.”

Tears pricked your eyes in frustration, and you nodded your head yes.

“Words.”

“Yes! I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, wo—won’t give you attitude, Joel, I—I won’t be such a bitch, I pr—omise.”

“I like you a li’l bitchy,” he slid his cock back into you, resuming the punishing pace, punching up into you. “Like my pretty li’l bitch. Like this tight fuckin’ pussy.” He flattened himself on top of you, chest pressing into yours with every breath he took and every rough shove of his cock against your cervix. The slight pain was worth the abounding pleasure. He reached under your midriff, sliding his hands between the flannel you still half-wore to meet your skin, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you into him further. You wrapped your own arms around his waist, completely lost in him.

“Y’needed this as much as I did,” he groaned into your ear, “tell me, sweet thing.”

“Needed—oh, fuck, I needed it.” You whispered against the skin of his shoulder. He managed to reach a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit. You buried your face into him, suddenly very aware of what was happening; your daydreams coming to fruition, winning the game in a manner leagues above what you had hoped for. The attention was staggering. The tears you had held back during his earlier taunting escaped, spilling over your cheeks and smudging into the sweat on Joel’s skin. It was overwhelming in the best way. Anxiety inducing in the worst.

“So good, being so—so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He was getting sloppy with his thrusts, rhythm failing as he neared his own high. He pulled away from you, shifting positions to hold you so that you could be face to face. You couldn’t count how many times today you had found yourself staring at Joel Miller. “You’re so good.” A fully earnest sentiment, punctuated by every inch of his cock. “Want you to cum, need you to cum for me again.” He was practically begging, words coming out in moaned whispers. He kissed the tear streaks over your cheek and down to your lips, the wiry hair of his short mustache rubbing against your top lip in a manner that made your skin instantly sore, but it felt too good to be connected to him like this to complain at all. He continued his movements, fingers running over your clit at a heightened pace and cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed around his cock, arms squeezing his torso, and you felt yourself coming undone.

“There you go. Feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Gimme one more, sweetheart.” You were pushed over the edge, once again cumming for Joel Miller in a way you had only ever imagined. He held you tight, letting you wrap yourself around him while you came, whispering his name and tangling your fingers in his hair. He managed a few more deep thrusts before pulling out and spilling across your stomach, chanting your name. Your breathing was labored, and Joel admired how he had painted you with his spend.

He stood up, walking out of the room, and you felt the urge to cry again, feeling suddenly abandoned after something so new and intimate. But he walked back in with a threadbare towel, wiping down your stomach and the wet between your thighs. You were both silent as he finished cleaning you up. He exited once more to rid himself of the towel before reuniting with you in bed. He lay beside you for a moment before turning to hold you. You turned to face him.

“It’s a shame you wiped me clean. Wanted a taste.” You failed to keep your tone even and unbothered, the crack in your voice apparent as you tried your hand at humor.

“Next time.” You looked up to find him staring at you once again. His usual scowl replaced by something softer. You fell back into a semi-comfortable silence.

“I am a bad man.” He spread his fingers out between your shoulder blades.

“Joel—”

“I am,” the words came out harsher than he had meant them to, “I’ve done bad shit just to get by. It’s fuckin’ embarrassin’ to kill someone just to see another day of this. Bad’s an understatement.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m hard on you cause I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. Don’t wanna be out with you if somethin’ happens. Don’t wanna be away from you if somethin’ happens. Wouldn’t be able to—”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know. S’fuckin’ awful. Shouldn’t have’ta fend for yourself.” He swallowed.

“Have to to survive, Joel. Made it this far.”

“No,” he countered, “shouldn’t have to survive. You should be livin’. Shouldn’t need’a run with a crowd like me ‘nd Tess.”

“Don’t you think we’re a little past that? I’d be doin’ the same thing even if I didn’t have you two to do it with.”

“I’ve seen how you freeze up.”

“I knew you’d be there.” You nearly snapped, astonished that after all this he was still hung up over the first run you did with him, despite the effortless shots he had taken. Even more astonished that he hadn’t realized that despite the external bitterness he had fashioned and the constant stream of “no” that left his mouth, you knew even then that he’d keep you protected. He looked away from you, and you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, trying to show him that for all your bite you were capable of being docile when the moment called for it.

“Shouldn’t wanna hang around bad people.” Joel’s eyes looked into the nothing of the distance as he muttered. “Shouldn’t have to risk everything just to do bad things.”

“Good men die, too, Joel,” You were firm, “I wanna be…” You trailed off. He looked back to you and traced a finger over your collar bone, admiring the marks that had formed from his kisses. “Wanna be around you. With you.” You saw a faint smile creep across his face.

“Not a good man?”

You scoffed, “Never a good man. Wouldn’t know how to handle me.” He laughed softly. You allowed his hands to roam over your body while you mirrored his movements, tracing your fingers over the scars that littered his chest. “Come with me on the next run.” You weren’t asking.

For the first time in 20-odd years, Joel was unable to say no.

#pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) (Steddie X You)

A/N: Like I said last week, I was watching the music video for "Queen of the Night" by Whitney Houston from the soundtrack of this movie and it gave me this Steddie idea.

I have a few ideas I can take this! I seriously love protective Steddie. Probably something to do with my PTSD and need to feel safe lol Anyway... I hope you enjoy it! I dedicate this to @unfocused81 <3

Warnings: No smut (yet😈) but angst for sure. Security Steddie and Singer female reader. It is mentioned that Y/N does drink excessively and do drugs. Her boyfriend is a douchebag and assaults her (mentions of smacking and grabbing her, yelling at her, and calling her names) that results in Steddie intervening. There is also a bit of a riot at one of shows that they protect her from (kind of like that scene in the movie where people jump on stage and chaos ensues).

I wouldn't really call this dark themes but reader definitely has some things going on and is struggling a lot right now.

Work count: 5906

“What kind of security work have you guys done before?”

Your manager leans against the outside of his desk as he continues to scan through the messages on his phone.

“Oh, um, we’ve done a lot before for the bar in our town and most recently a rock band in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, the manager cuts Steve off as he speaks. “That’s all well and good. Look, I’m going to level with you. This is essentially expensive babysitting. Y/N is a handful. Our last security detail quit when her last party at her house caused a riot in the streets of LA.”

“A riot?”, Eddie turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

The guy sets his phone down, sighing with impatience. “Yes. Obviously, you two don’t read or watch the news…which is good. Saves me the headache. Now, do you want the job or not?”

Both boys glance at each other before looking towards the man again. “Um, yeah sure. I mean it pays, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Ok, she’s at the studio downstairs right now recording…or at least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. Go introduce yourselves. Glad to have you aboard.”, he rolls his eyes as he shoos them out of his office.

“Steve are you sure about this?”, Eddie asks as they head for the elevator.

“Yeah. Come on, Munson. This is our ticket to high-rate clients and more money! We can handle one little girl.”

As soon as they get off on the right floor, they are met with extremely loud music and giggles from the studio room. A tall, lanky kid leans back in his chair extending his hand to greet both boys.

“Hey, are ya’ll the security? I’m Devon. She’s in there ‘getting inspired’.” Their eyes follow his finger as he points behind the glass where you and some of your friends were strewn around the floor. “Good luck, gentlemen.”, he sings.

Both men carefully tip toe around arms and legs to find you with your eyes closed, a half smirk painted across your lips.

“Uh, Miss Y/L/N? I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson. We’re your new personal security guards.”

“Hmm…sounds sexy.”, you slur. Your glassy, drug fueled eyes look up to meet theirs. “At least Jack hired some good-looking ones this time. Who is who?”

“Maybe, if you stood up and actually greeted us, you would have heard who is who the first time.”, Eddie chided.

Your eyes fully open as your head tilts in his direction. No one ever had the balls to scold you like that since you became famous. It was usually “Yes ma’am” this or “Anything you want, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.”. Rising to your feet, you fully take them in through your haze.

They both were attractive especially with that air of confidence you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your current boyfriend was cocky but definitely not confident. Everyone else around you seemed so fucking timid and you hated it.

“Eddie. Steve.”, Steve repeated, pointed to his friend then himself.

He was dressed head to toe in what you would call “conventional” clothes; nothing designer or anything to make him stand out. You could tell under the button up white, short sleeve shirt that he did have muscles that could protect you physically if need be. The jeans and sneakers he donned didn’t give you any new information that could tell you something about him except he probably didn’t make a whole lot of money.

Eddie was more or less the same with a much more grunge fashion sense that, to you, he pulled off well. You pointed to his Metallica t-shirt with your finger.

“My music isn’t like theirs. It might make your ears bleed.”

“As long as I can still see you and see you’re safe, I think I’ll survive.”

He’s quick witted. I like that…

“Ok. We’ll give it a try. Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at my house and I can tell you more about what you’ll be doing.”

***

“Steven Harrington, have you read half this stuff?”, Eddie sighs as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees as he points at things on his laptop.

“She’s been arrested twice; once for possession and another for disorderly conduct where she was found having sex with someone while she was drunk in public. The cops have been called to her house multiple times due to, honestly, take your fucking pick. Her boyfriend was arrested just last week for sucker punching one of her fans for ‘getting too close’. How are we supposed to protect someone who invites all this chaos into her life.”

“I don’t know, Ed. The same way you protect anyone I guess.”, Steve leans back on the couch as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “Again, this is just a steppingstone. I’m sure after a few months of handling her, any number of high value agencies will want to hire us. WHICH MEANS…”, he glances towards Eddie. “…you need to control your Dom voice.”

The metalhead chuckles as he leans back as well. “It’s going to be hard with a fucking brat like her. Dude, she didn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello.”

“I know… I know… but just, try. For me?”

#########

It takes you awhile to open the door when they knock but when you finally do, you look completely hung over.

“Yeah, come…come in. Do you want something to drink? Jack? Vodka? I have them all.”

“It’s 10am.”, Steve responds as he looks at his watch.

You raise an eyebrow at him before heading for the kitchen and grabbing the whole bottle of Jack Daniels. “If you’re boring, Eddie. Just say that.”

“Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Right now, I don’t care—”

“We can tell.”, Eddie growls.

You blink as you look up at him. You’ve never wanted to toy with a man so bad in your life. He wasn’t even trying to hide that your disrespect was bothering him and honestly you couldn’t get enough.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I don’t do mornings. Unfortunately, my manager insists on scheduling interviews for me that require me to up at this ungodly hour.” They watch you as you slump onto the couch and throw your arm over your eyes. “So, how much did Jack tell you?”

“Uh, just the basics. We watch out for you.”

“Good. It’s just following me around and making sure I don’t get swarmed or murdered. I’ll give you guys a key to my house before you leave today and when I stay at hotels I’ll do the same. You’ll most likely be staying in the same room as me anyway so…”

The sound of banging on your front door makes you cringe. “I guess I’ll get it.”, Eddie sighs as Steve’s eyes follow him. “Your makeup people are here, your highness.”

A big grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look over at them. “I like him. Steven, you need to start stepping it up or he’ll become my favorite.”

The metalhead lazily glances towards his friend with playful wide eyes. “Well, lucky me.”

***

As snotty as your attitude was, they couldn’t deny how beautiful you were especially after your prep team was done putting you together. The makeup hid all damage you had done to yourself the night before and the outfit they had you in sexily showed off all your curves. Your eyes shifted to them, watching them as they looked around.

“No one is going to shoot me in here, boys.”

“Hm. You never know.”, Eddie exhales as he points to things. “Someone could come in through that back door behind you or because no one checks any of these people’s IDs, someone could sneak in pretending to be a hair stylist and take you out like that.”, he snaps his fingers.

“Bags that hold all the beauty and camera equipment are big enough to hold even a rifle let alone a handgun. That’s implying someone would want to shoot you instead of stabbing or blowing you up.”, Steve followed.

“Wow. Just charming.”

“It’s our job, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think due to the circumstances you can call me Y/N.”, you grin.

The producer gets your attention, walking you through the questions that would be asked and how the interview would go. The boys watched you in amazement as your personality practically changed when the camera went live. No one would ever be able to tell what you did behind the scenes or any other narrative then the one you provided.

An hour later and after many questions, the interview ended and your face fell.

“God, I need a drink.”

“Can we at least go over the tour first?”, your manager whined.

“Baby!”

You excitedly got up and ran to your boyfriend’s arms. “Simon!”

Everyone in the room cringed at the heavy smacking sounds that left you two as he continued to sloppily kiss your lips.

“Who are the new guys?”

“Babe, these are the new security guys. This is Eddie and Steve.”

They stand up to shake his hand but as Steve extends his palm the man looks down at it like the gesture was beneath him. “Yeah, listen boys, hands off, okay? She’s mine.”, you giggle as he slaps your ass.

“Come on, baby. I got a surprise for you.” You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you towards your bedroom.

“Y/N! We still have things to go over!”, Jack shouts as the door closes loudly.

#########

“I want to go home, Steven. It’s 2am and they’ve been fucking in there all god damn day. At this point we shouldn’t have a client anymore because he killed her by not giving her any food or fucking water. It definitely won’t be due to her climaxing because I haven’t heard that happen yet.”

“We can’t leave until he does.”, Steve sighs. “Or she dismisses us for the evening.”

As if on cue, Simon saunters past them into the kitchen, casually opening your fridge, and begins chugging from a jug of orange juice. “Um, I’m pretty sure you two can leave. She’s not even here.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’m assuming she climbed out the window after I crashed. She does that to escape the security teams. It’s kind of a rite of passage honestly.”

“Where would she go?”, Eddie growls.

“Um, there’s a bar about a mile up the road. She likes to walk there for some reason.”

***

“So, pretty lady. Do you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“Ugh, no. Get off me. I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on, honey.”, the man slurred.

“Hey! The lady said no.”, Steve’s voice echoed through the bar as he starred the man down. “Leave. Now.”

The patron held up his hands defensively, staggering back towards his table.

“Come on, Y/N. Time for you to go home.”, Eddie motioned for the bartender to stop serving you as the other boy reached into your purse to pay him.

“You’re my security. Not my fucking dad. I can stay here and drink if I want.”

“You’re at a bar in a nightie, shorts, and flip flops at 2 in the morning. It’s a safety concern.”

“Oh shit.”, you giggle. “I am in my nightie.” Steve roughly grips your arm and tugs you out the door towards his car. “Let me go, you fucking dick.”

A switch flips in the man’s brain; he can’t help it. For the past couple of days, he’s tolerated your disrespect but like Eddie, he hated it. They both could handle a lot but you were pushing them too far. Still holding onto your wrist, he twirls you towards the vehicle till your back hits the door.

“Now, listen here because I’m only going to say this once. We’ve handled the tone and the blatant disregard for what we do but it ends now. Our job is to keep you safe not fucking babysit some spoiled, rich washed-up singer. This is the last time you pull a stunt like this; do you understand me?”

Steve’s body was so close to yours you could feel his angry breath fanning your face. It had been ages since someone put you in your place like this and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a bit turned on. A new feeling washed over you though as your eyes scanned his face. For the first time since you entered this industry, you actually felt safe.

They weren’t afraid to be blunt with you which compared to everyone else in your life was a nice reprieve. You knew 90% of the people in your life, given the chance, would sell you out in a heartbeat but would still stand there and tell you how perfect you were.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Eddie’s voice startled you, completely unaware he was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, glaring down at you with those same angry eyes.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now get in the car.”

#############

That following morning, they half expected to be fired but were surprised when you opened the front door as soon as they knocked.

“We have to go to the studio first and then I have to get ready for the gig tonight.”, you mumbled as you swished around them, trying to get in the backseat of his car to no avail. “Can you open the door…please?”

Eddie caught it in your tone first…something wasn’t right and it had nothing to do with them.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can we just…”, you gesture towards the car.

“HEY! When you get back tonight make sure it’s with a better fucking attitude!”, Simon yells from your front door.

“Well maybe I won’t come back, you free loading mama’s boy!”

“Stupid bitch should learn how to talk to a man.”, he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door shut.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look before the metalhead speaks to you. “Is that something we need to handle?”

“No. He’s just being a fucking prick.”

He opens your door and you slowly slide in before both men do the same. As the car begins to move, Steve keeps checking on you in his rearview mirror. Your sunglass covered eyes remain focused on the window as you stare out into the California streets.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About leaving and keeping you guys out late when you didn’t have to. Simon just pissed me off and…”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“No. Sometimes he’s an asshole.” You flash them a sassy smirk that grows when you see Eddie try and hide his own at your sarcasm. “He’s just…hot headed, you know? He’s been through a lot.”

“And you haven’t?”

Your eyes swivel to Steve before glancing down at your hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, neither should I so…”

“Just because you have an attitude doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like trash. Maybe you just need someone stronger who can handle it and not take it personally.”

“Oh? And who would that be, Steve? You?”

“Aw, Munson, that’s cute. She thinks we can’t handle her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’ve dealt with worse than you.”, he smiles as he turns around in his seat. “It’s you that can’t handle us. Thankfully though we aren’t in a relationship so we’ll never get to find out.”

“I never say never, gentlemen.”

****

After going over the tour dates, everything you would be doing, and everything you need, your next stop was the venue you would be performing at tonight.

Eddie cringed as the feedback of the mic echoed around the building.

“Hey! Try plugging it into the correct port!” The young man shrugged his shoulders causing the metalhead to go over and show the boy what he was doing wrong.

“Let me guess? Rock and Roll drummer in a Metallica cover band?”, you grin at him as the mic starts picking up your voice perfectly.

“Guitarist and our own band, not a cover band.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you musically inclined?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you good at?”

“Babysitting.”, he raised his eyebrow in your direction making your smile grow.

As the additional security from the venue finally arrived, you watched with fascination as the guys took on a more authoritative tone, telling each person where they would need to be. Time slowly dwindled till it was about twenty minutes before the show. You began pacing as you shook out your preshow jitters.

“Hey, they say they are ready for you to head towards the stage.”

You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Goddamn it! Okay, fucking thank you!” His eyes narrowed in your direction as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Can I help you with anything else?!”

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re not my father, Steven, or my friend. Get the fuck out! I’ll be right out!”

The boy bites his bottom lip as he nods his head. “Yes ma’am.” As he starts to open the door, he pauses turning to face you again. “You look really beautiful, by the way. Your voice is amazing. Eddie and I have actually never heard any of your songs before today. This will be our first concert. I’m excited to see it.”

Your wide, glassy eyes turn to look at him as he slowly begins to close the door again.

“Steve! Thank you…”

##########

That night you gave it your all and then some. Occasionally, you would glance down at the bottom of the stage watching as Steve and Eddie’s demeanor remained focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, however, you would notice a foot tap to the beat or a head would bob to your lyrics. If this was the first time they were attending a Y/N concert, you wanted them to enjoy it and show them what you bring to the entertainment table.

So many people when you were starting out told you that you would never make it. That your dream of becoming a singer was a pipe dream for people with “actual talent”. Since day one you always felt like you had to prove yourself, hell, even before you started singing. In your house growing up you felt like you had to fight to be seen.

Once you crossed that threshold, everything came easier but you never stopped fighting. Fighting the fear of being nothing again, the knowledge that everyone in your circle just wanted a piece of you and what you earned. Fighting to keep everyone happy including yourself. The alcohol and drugs helped immensely or at least that’s what you believed. You thought it helped numb your brain and the pain so you could just get through every day.

When Eddie sassed you in the studio, you knew he was different. For a while you couldn’t get a read on Steve until that night outside of the bar. The fact that neither of them had asked you to hear their demo tape or hit on you was already a point in their favor but they genuinely seemed to want to protect you so you wanted to return the favor in some way, your voice.

When the concert ended, they snuck a peak at you. Eddie was never a fan of the type of music you sang but he couldn’t deny that what you did sing went straight to his heart. Steve noticed that while you sang, it was like you transported to a different place. You seemed calmer and more in tune with yourself, making you seem more confident than when you weren’t.

This was the first time since they met you that you genuinely seemed happy.

Something in the atmosphere changed. Maybe it was too many booze served at the bar or just the energy of the evening but people in the crowd started chanting for an encore. You were exhausted having gone longer on your set then you were supposed to already. You gave the crowd your best smile, thanking them for coming out, and telling them how much you loved their support.

A fan jumped on to the stage and Eddie was quick to pull him back down. Panic set in as you watched the crowd start to fight with each other and the security team jump into action. The metalhead was in front of you and you hastily gripped his arm as he scanned the area trying to find Steve.

“Harrington?!”

After tapping his shoulder, you pointed to the corner near a wall where you saw the boy in a fist fight of his own. Eddie pushed you towards the side of the stage behind a curtain.

“Don’t move! I’ll be right back, ok?!”, he shouted over the chaos as you gave him a firm nod.

You watched as he jumped off the platform, running to pull the man off his friend and shoving him to where you were hiding. Steve didn’t even hesitate as he lifted you into his arms and they both ran down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached their car and placed you in the back seat, him climbing in with you as Eddie sped away.

“Wait…what about Jack…and everyone else?”

“No. We have to get you out and away from the building especially during a scene like that.” Steve searched through his jacket pocket for a tissue, placing it against his nose when he finally finds one.

“Are-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole got me good.”

About a mile down the road, Eddie parked the car into a gas station and got out to check you both over. “What happened, Harrington? Let someone get the best of you?”, Eddie chuckled.

“Dude, they cornered me so fast especially after I pulled him off of the venue’s security guy.”

“Did I do that? Did I do something wrong?” Their head swivel around to look at your frightened frame. “Th-that’s never happened before…I-I-I…”

“Hey, hey, hey Y/N. It’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I seriously think it was just…”, Eddie shrugs. “Beer and a packed in place. People just being…too rowdy. It happens but that’s what we’re here for.”

The man throws his arms up in surprise when you suddenly tackle him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press your head into his chest.

“Thank you…so much.” You let him go as you turn to give Steve a hug as well. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

When you started to pull back, his arms came down to hold you to him. “Hey, better me than you.”, he gently sighs, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

#######

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?! Baby, are you okay?” Simon ran to you from his place on your couch as you and the guys entered your house.

“The concert ended a bit roughly but I’m ok. Really…”

“Isn’t it your job to fucking protect her!?”

“Yes and we did that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Look at her! She’s a mess and she’s shaking!” Your boyfriend charged up to Steve who glared down at him as he continued to yell in his face.”

“Simon, leave them alone. Please, I just want to get this crap off and go to bed.”

Eddie gripped his friend’s arm as he spoke to you. “Is there anything else you need, Y/N? Do you feel safe enough for us to leave and let you rest?”

“Of course, she fucking does. I can take care of her.”

Your eyes met theirs as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to Jack and everyone in the morning.” The metalhead tugs at Steve forcing him to back down from your boyfriend. He flashes you one more cursory glance before turning around and leaving you for the night.

###########

“You boys did good last night. I don’t know what happened but you knew what to do.” Jack gave them a smile as he nodded his head in approval. “Please keep up that vigilance next week when we go on tour. I think—”

“Wait. You’re still doing the tour next week?”

Your manager looked at Eddie in confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I mean…she just went through a pretty traumatic event. I couldn’t imagine getting back up on a stage immediately after something like that.”

“Yeah, well, your security not a musician so—”

“I actually am but whatever.”

Jack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as speaks to you. “Do you feel like you need more time?”

You didn’t even hear the man’s question. Since they picked you up and brought you to your managers office, you had been uncharacteristically quiet. You were thinking about everything including what transpired last night. It WAS incredibly scary but they did pull through and keep you safe. Not only did they look after you but each other; you appreciated that loyalty.

Now as Eddie defended you, thinking of your well-being, you felt yourself spiraling at the action. No one cared about you this much and they barely even knew you. What was their end game? What made them tick? What made them this way? Was it genuine or was it just their jobs?

“Y/N!”

“Huh? Oh, um, I mean…a week would be fine…especially if I can just rest…”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”, Jack responded in a nonchalant tone. “Go ahead and take the week but be back here on Thursday so we can go over everything.”

You nod as you head out of the office with your protectors in tow. “Hey, um, did you guys want to go get some lunch or something?”

***

“So, why security?”, you ask as you bite into your burger.

“Like Steve said, I mean, we’re good at it.”

“Well, good at protecting people. Security work just allows us to get paid for it.”, the man smiles as he takes a sip from his drink.

“And you two have been friends for a while?”

“Since high school.”

“And where was that exactly?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, sweetheart. Can I ask why?”, Eddie playfully narrows his eyes in your direction making you smile.

“I just…you two are very different then people we usually hire. I just want to know more about you.”

“Different how?”, Steve asks.

“I don’t know. You just seem to genuinely care.”

“If the people around you don’t genuinely care then you need to hire some new people.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to find in this industry.” You reach in your purse and raise a flask in their direction as you pour a bit into your coffee.

“Is that why you do things like that?”, Eddie gestures towards you drink.

“No, baby. I do things like this to keep me from going insane.”

“How about you do the healthy thing and stand up for yourself?”

You angerly turn your attention to Steve. “I can stand up for myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you let your manager, boyfriend, and entourage talk down to you the way they do?”

“Go fuck yourself, alright?! Look, I can stick up for myself and say what’s on my mind. For example, you two are complete fucking assholes.”, you growl. “I’m done eating. I want to go home.”

Eddie smirks as the other boy sighs. “Such a whiney, spoiled brat. I swear.” The metalhead pulls out his wallet, throwing money on the table as they both get to their feet. “Your highness.”, he gestures towards the front door.

“I’m not whiney or spoiled. I worked hard to get here and I’m not going to let you or anyone talk to me like that.”

“Yet you do.”, Steve retorts as he opens the back door to his car. You roughly reach across, slamming it shut. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Apologize to me.”

“For what? Pointing out the obvious? Frankly, I don’t get why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and you have such a gorgeous voice yet you pump yourself with poison and let these people take advantage of you. Why?”

You exhale as you look towards the ground. “I can handle it.”

“You say that a lot.” Eddie folds his arms on top of the car as he leans onto his hands.

“Because I can.”

“By getting wasted?”

“My personal life is none of your fucking concern.”, you growl.

“You’re right.” Steve opens the back door again and this time you climb in. “You just seem like you deserve better.”

##########

“I swear, man, that girl is going to get us killed. Or put in prison after WE kill her.”, Eddie chuckles from his place on the sofa.

“I kind of like her.” The metalhead coyly raises his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, come on, like you don’t?”, Steve sighs as he leans back against the couch. “There’s something hidden under all that sass and alcohol…I saw it when she was singing. I’d love to get to know that part of her better.”

Eddie grinned as he reached for his phone, smile fading when he saw the ID.

“Hello. This is Eddie Munson.”

“E-Eddie? I, um, I think—FUCK YOU! —I need help.”

“You stupid bitch! Open this fucking door right fucking now!”

Eddie ross to his feet, tugging at Steve’s arm as he searched for his keys. “Where are you?”

“I-I’m in my bedroom. Simon and I got into a fight and-and he’s wasted. Pl-please…I’m scared. He’s never been this angry.”

Steve had already started the car, speeding towards your house. “Hey, it’s ok, sweetheart. We’re on the way, alright? Just stay on the phone with me, ok?”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you guys today. Fuck… you two seem s-so different. I-I just…”

“Y/N don’t even worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be alright. We’re almost there.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty! Think you can talk to me anyway you want to! Fuck you, you fucking slut! Open the door, Y/N!”

“Oh, sure! You fuck all the groupies and fans that show up to my concerts but I’m the fucking slut!”

“Y/N, stop engaging. Talk to me.” There’s a loud crash and a squeak from your side as the line cuts off. “Steve…hurry.”

Five minutes later, they are bursting through your front door, running towards your bedroom where they hear your boyfriend shouting. Steve tackles him to the floor subduing him with his knee in his back.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving. You’re lucky I don’t fucking shoot you, asshole.”

“Y/N?”, Eddie softly called your name as you continued to cower in the corner with your head tucked into your arms. “Princess, everything is ok. I’m going to touch your arm.” You jump when his fingers graze your skin but you allow him to guide you to your feet. “There we go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Can you look at me so I can check you out here?”

Your lips trembled as you faced him, his eyes slowly growing dark with fury as he scanned you over. Your face was red from your tears but he could also see where Simon had smacked your cheek. You had bruises that were starting to form on your arms where he must have grabbed you.

“I’ll call the police and EMS.”, he grumbled trying to contain his anger.

“No! No EMS. Please…I don’t need those pictures or attention.”

“But I do of me being pushed into a fucking cop car.”, Simon spat.

Steve grabbed his hair and hit his head into the carpet. “Shut. Up.” His eyes meet yours as he speaks in a much gentler tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, I have a first aid kit here and all that so I’m fine.”

***

The police came by and took Simon away after taking everyone’s statements. Eddie and Steve took care of almost everything which you immensely appreciated. After everyone left, you expected them to as well but as your front door closed, you found you weren’t the only one on the other side.

“I’m going to see if I can get your bedroom door back on its hinges.”, Eddie turned the corner to head down your hallway as Steve followed.

You tiptoe after them, watching them with bewilderment as the metalhead got to work and Steve began straightening up the things Simon had damaged.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” They both froze, straightening up to look at you. “Why…why are you so nice to me? I’m such a fucking bitch to you. According to you, I’m a bratty, spoiled, washed up singer. WHY are you doing this?!”, you gesture around the room.

They glanced at each other and after a few minutes it was Steve who finally spoke. “How should we be? Hm? Should we be like him? Do you think you deserve to be treated like this, Y/N?”

Their voices and demeanor completely changed in the moment; talking to you like a little girl who had just run into your parent’s room crying about a monster under her bed.

“Sweetheart, NO ONE deserve to be treated like this. You didn’t trigger this. What he just did…isn’t your fault. You did the right thing calling us here. Now what kind of protectors would we be if we left you here alone with your house like this?”

You broke, sobbing almost uncontrollably as your hands covered your face. Strong hands tenderly grabbed your biceps, pulling you into a chest as you wrapped your arms around his back. Another palm delicately petted your head and for the first time in your life, you had never felt safer.

Stepping back, you wipe your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie’s kind, worry filled orbs running over your face as Steve stood beside him doing the same.

“Can, um, can we worry about this tomorrow and you stay here with me tonight?”

“Yeah, we can stay here, honey. Do you have another room you can sleep in? I don’t think tomorrow morning you should open your eyes and this is the first thing you see.”

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall here.”

“Good because I agree with Steve. We can sleep on the couches out here and—”

“Can you sleep with me?”, you interrupt, your question startling both men. “I-I-I mean, you don’t have to. I just… I’m still a bit scared. I’m…forget about it.”

Eddie grabbed your hand as you started to walk away.

“We can do that for you. If that’s what you want.” You nod your head to his statement, watching him closely as his eyes shift from security Eddie to something you had never seen before in any man. Whatever it was it made you feel weak in the knees. His fingers reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you say it?”

“I-I want you two to sleep…in my bed…with me. Please.” That last word comes out almost in a whisper, pleading with them to stay.

Steve’s fingers softly caress your cheek before gliding under your chin, turning you to face him. He had that same look Eddie had, that air of confidence you remembered seeing when you first met them but more dominate.

“Good girl.”

553 notes · View notes

starfish-spencer · 5 months

Text

I'm really disappointed that the Lassie and Jules subplot in Gus's Dad May Have Killed an Old Guy ended with Jules just... uninviting Lassie to her family Christmas celebrations because he was too awkward and anti-social.

Like, the entire point of her inviting him in the first place was so that he wouldn't be lonely on Christmas, and then HE ENDS UP ALONE ON CHRISTMAS ANYWAY?? When he couldn't socialize the way he was expected to (autism), Jules's first reaction was to not let him come over again.

The important thing here is that it's not even Christmas yet! The first time I saw the episode, I was waiting for something else to happen, for Jules to come up with a solution, but this scene here is just the end of the subplot. She lets him believe that he was "too cool" and that she was feeling jealous, which is still kind of uncomfortable. It also doesn't solve the problem of Lassie not having friends or family to spend the holidays with.

The thing that bugs me the most is that this seems so out of character for Jules. You're telling me that Juliet "gives cupcakes to all the new employees" O'Hara WOULDN'T care if Lassiter was left out? I just know that she would be doing EVERYTHING she could to make him stay and feel comfortable. She put so much effort into his birthday party, she remembered their work-iversary, I can't imagine she would be so embarrassed by him that she would give up on trying to make him feel included. If any of the other O'Haras made a comment or sly remark about his mannerisms, Juliet would shut them down with one stare.

I would have liked it if they had come up with another solution instead of just booting him (Like maybe Jules's nephews are playing with those little green army men toys and Lassie sits on the floor with them and helps them set up historically accurate battles. And they actually find it really cool).

Anyway, I just wanted to see Lassie getting adopted into the O'Hara family and not being alone during the holidays, since he's kind of like Juliet's brother anyway. Maybe the O'Hara family sits down to open presents and Lassie just stands off in the corner because obviously no one got him anything, right? But then Jules hands him a gift, and it is something perfect for him like a Clint Eastwood poster or the Grease soundtrack on vinyl. And he gives her a big hug while holding back tears. And it would still be a while before he meets Marlowe anyway, so maybe for the next few years, he goes over to the O'Haras for the holidays.

This subplot could have been so sweet and heartwarming, and there was a lot of missed potential. I'm not angry, but I think it was a strange writing choice. I know my girl Jules is better than this! :)

#i know its february but #i wanted to talk about this #psych episodes are watchable year-round anyway #yes im autistic and projecting im sorry #poor guy was so uncomfortable but he still wanted to be part of the celebration and then he just got kicked out #i love jules with my whole heart i know shes better than this #this got really long yikes #carlton lassiter #juliet o'hara #psych #psych usa

130 notes · View notes

inkelea · 7 months

Text

SKZ AS ANIMAL CROSSING PLAYERS! ✭

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

synopsis: how do each member play animal crossing and how it made you grow close with each other.

genre: fluff. headcanons.

warnings: chan is a sweetheart<3, LINO’S PART IS CHAOTIC. in general all of this is very chaotic.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: animal crossing is so>>>> ik tmblr is full of 12 y/o but I hope you all know what new leaf is. you can see how I lost inspiration through the members😔, I’m still hoping it’s good. this has a lot of references to animal crossing as a whole (obviously) so if you’re not in touch with the game you might not understand:(

#BANG CHAN!

this man YOU ALL, THIS MAN.

he’s the good neighbor.

his animal crossing daily routine is: loading the game, eat three pieces of whichever fruit was the one that he got, and greet his villagers.

if you ask him about his no. 1 priority he’ll always answer the same: forming good and meaningful relationships with his villagers

you can argue with the possibility of that since villagers personalities start to get watered down in new leaf

BUT HE DOESN’T CARE

every day he talks with them and helps them with whatever they need

chan will go down in history as villagers no. 1 defender

“most important part of the game, without them there’s no game. that’s why new horizons is shit” HE’LL BE SAYING, EVERYDAY, WHILE THEY’RE ON TOUR

at least two hours of his day are spent on animal crossing without exception

don’t ask him how, he just does it

big on villagers lore, he’ll tell you everything there is to tell about tom nook’s evolution through the games

probably likes him too

so hear me out, maybe you were a staff member and heard the 4pm soundtrack, and AHHHH

since then you would get in petty arguments about which villagers are the best ones

you definitely visit the others town when he’s on break

you have dates where you see which one of the both of you can help more villagers under an hour

yea, you’re nerds like that:)

#LEE KNOW!

okay so these headcanons are about new leaf but…

you can’t tell me he wouldn’t play new horizons and be the trader

THIS LITTLE SHIT RIGHT HERE

he would be one of the ones who went crazy over raymond

paying ridiculous amount of bells to get him on his island

he would be on nookazon EVERYDAY

he’s a man of business

also on the stalk market

half of his island are rows of growing turnips. it gets to the point where villagers start to complain about it. he doesn’t care.

chan tells him to drop his “rebellious act” as he calls it

but he excuses himself saying it comes from way back

yes i am implying that 14 year old lino was already doing suspicious things on new leaf

TOTALLY TIME TRAVELS

and gets his turnips spoiled from doing it wrong…

BUT ANYWAY

you aren’t any better, you two meet when he’s looking to get raymond and you’re selling him

since then you get used to trade only with the other

aww, look at you, being criminal only with each other🫶🫶🫶

why can I see you holding a new horizons red lily cardboard cutout in a concert?

#SEO CHANGBIN!

and here comes the most normal person on this bullet fic

my guy here is so the escapist

!!!

he’s prone to stop playing the game for months only to come back to find his hair like a mess

(and he doesn’t have shampoodle yet)

(probably doesn’t have kicks either🤪)

by escapist i mean escaping from the real world and from playing the game

he loves the soothing feeling the game carries and gives him in stressful times, but he often feels too lazy to get in the game and do everything he wants to do

like.. fishing, catching bugs, looking for fossils… it’s too MUCH

probably doesn’t ever change outfits, entered in able sisters maximum five times

but that’s okay

it’s isn’t about the looks it’s about the friendships you make along the way💗

or that’s what you tell him

SO LISTEN

you met in high school, started dating and you introduced him to the amazing world of what animal crossing is

you try and get him to play wild world first, but it’s a nono for him

says the graphics are too ugly💀

you sigh, move on, and remember to be grateful for getting him to play new leaf

you still can’t believe he’s been playing for so long and still has kicks locked

he gives you the cold shoulder every time you mention it

you still send him texts every other week reminding him to log in

just for the sake of doing so and greeting his villagers

you’re lucky he loves you, if not, you’d be blocked already😘

#HWANG HYUNJIN!

we all know he’s a pretty good artist

and in animal crossing, he’s the artist too

OBSESSED WITH FURNITURE

type of person who spent the 7,595,800 bells to expand his house to the fullest

for what? to decorate it with everything his heart desires

yep, each room has a different aesthetic

OBSSESED WITH THE FROGGY CHAIR

went nuts when he saw its absence in new horizons

new horizons no. 2 hater

(first one is chan)

has beef with people who don’t care about their house appearance

THIS MAN SPENT YEARS MAKING HIS PERFECT HOUSE

just for a delusional person to tell him it isn’t that important

yes, you’re that person

your first conversation about the game is him rambling about his love for decorating and you telling him how you never really cared about how your house looked

OH BOY

he almost throws hands

he’s just VERY PASSIONATE, he loves what he loves yk

he steals your nintendo one day and decorates it as much as he can

you give him a big old smooch when you see it<3

#HAN JISUNG!

hannie💗💗💗

THIS ONE RIGHT HERE: the collector

he wants ALL

he spends his days catching bugs on the town, going after crickets that jump away from him

every day, without missing, he wastes 1,000 bells on going to tortimer island to try and get a whale shark so he can give it to blathers

no but seriously he does spend more time on tortimer island than in his own town

LOVES THE MINIGAMES!!

forces lino to play with him

(he sucks at the scavenger hunt tour)

he would enter the same house a million times to try and find the stupid object he has left

ANYWAY

when he found the t-rex skull..

he looked like he had just won the lottery

random fact but loveees gyroids

BFFS WITH BLATHERS

loves him so so much

spends hours going around the museum and reading every info plaque!!

tells the members little facts about dinosaurs everyday since then

has a blathers plushie🥰

YOU GAVE IT TO HIM!!!!

you met by a friend of a friend who does animal crossing youtube videos

ofc the blathers and brewster stans would end up together

your brewster plushie appears in the background of one of han’s vlogs and fans went crazy about it

little did they know it was a gift from him that you forgot in his house the last time you visited

#LEE FELIX!

our sunshine!!!

he’s the dreamer

and what does that mean you might ask

well, his whole animal crossing experience rests on dream addresses

luna best character!!

(as he says)

he loves going around other people’s dream towns. his favorite pastime fr

WAS ON ACNL TUMBLR IN 2015

you can still find his abandoned (but not deactivated) account in present day

doesn’t regret anything!

not even losing time entering more than five times every day in the town hall to try and find isabelle sleeping so he can have the dream suite in main street

it takes luna so long to arrive at his town😔

luna you’re making lix sad:((

but yea

big fan of dream towns

and so, you meet when he visits your dream town (you left your address written in some desk at school) and you become friends (in 2015)

DEVASTATED WHEN HE BECAME A TRAINEE

but everything was good again when he debuted and started playing again

you guys reconnected and started talking more again

AND started dating not much later:)

(long distance kinda hard)

you probably move to seoul

or maybe not, who knows…

#KIM SEUNGMIN!

the bully.

yep, you read that right

THIS MAN’S A BULLY

to who?

HIS VILLAGERS

type of player who’s least favorite villager is hopper bc he’s “scary”

like he doesn’t have his villagers traumatized himself

he wants his favorites on his town, and he’ll get them

he doesn’t care, he’ll do whatever is needed

knows every single way of getting ugly villagers out of his island

his favorite tho? probably pushing them into pitfalls

laughs out loud while they cry out in their little dialogue

knows every dialogue by heart

i swear this man has seen every single angry dialogue one by one

forgives the dog villagers from his torture🤞

HAS HIT TOM IN THE HEAD WITH A NET TOO MANY TIMES

oh you know seungmin is a wild life lover

AND YOU🫵

you’re as bad as him

you love to shit-talk about hopper (and some other villagers) together

will send each other photos of your villagers being angry

you guys would feel bad if it didn’t help you release so much stress

visits to the other’s island to meet the other’s enemies- villagers i mean

what can i say, you guys are just menaces in love

#YANG JEONGIN!

don’t let our maknae fool you

he’s no innocent angel

BABY BREAD: GONE

he’s the achiever

you know how this is about new leaf?

well, he’s an acnh player too

and you know what his goal is?

EVERYTHING

and not in the collector, han jisung, kinda way

we’re talking of EVERYTHING

he NEEDS to have those 4,059,999 bells at all times

terraforms like his life depends on it

and space to walk? he doesn’t know it, just like lino, most of his island is covered in turnips

he didn’t sleep until he got the street piano diy recipe

LIKE, HOW COULD HE?

very big fan on getting into fights with people online about new horizons awesomeness

he was raised by lino after all

HOWEVER

he did not get the trading villagers gene at all

doesn’t have time for that shit💀

more like the type of want EVERYTHING, but for himself

and for you<3

HEAR ME OUT, you meet at a gaming convention (acnl era)

before he became a trainee

AND YOU JUST CLICK

the time he saw you looking at animal crossing stickers with wide eyes and a big smile

he knew he had lost the battle

it’s tough but you are able to maintain contact

first as friends

and then as partners:D

he loves giving you stuff incredibly difficult to get in-game

and you love to send him letters thanking him for it💗

@mochamvgz

146 notes · View notes

denaliwrites · 8 months

Text

It's How I'm Made

Tenth Doctor x Genderfluid!Reader

Summary: The Doctor has been especially protective of you since your coming out, even willing to go to bat for you in the face of aliens that look like they could probably snap him in half. Can be read as a sequel to On the Brave Shit.

Soundtrack: YES MOM by Tessa Violet

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Enbyphobia. Misgendering. Anxiety.

"Do you really think you can stop me, little girl?" the alien in front of you taunted, and you hated that it worked, that you wavered, that you almost lost your grip on the pipe you were using as a makeshift weapon.

The alien laughed, rubbing salt on the wound.

"Oh, come on now," you heard the Doctor say from behind you. "You can't be that dull. I mean," he paused for effect, scratching the back of his head as he awkwardly shuffled closer, "that's obviously an adult human. And, also, he's clearly a man. I mean, look at him!" The Doctor motioned vaguely at all of you, with a knowing look shot to you before shifting back into a passive expression.

Your heart swelled, though, and with a new surge of confidence your grip tightened and you stood firmer, facing off the alien with a glare.

"Don't be ridiculous, this is obviously--"

"An adult human male, yes," the Doctor cut in, followed up with a dramatically exasperated sigh. "Really, you'd think an alien from a planet with sixty-seven genders would get it, wouldn't you?" he asked, turning to you.

You blinked. "Sixty-seven?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said cheerfully. "And, remarkably, none of them are 'male' or 'female.' I mean, they have a few that are close enough, at least in terms of what a human can wrap their head around."

"Oh." That explained why the alien in front of you seemed... like a guy? You thought, anyway.

"Could also be the perception filter," the Doctor commented absentmindedly. "Anyway. Apologize to my friend, please." You knew the Doctor well enough to tell when he was no longer making polite requests. When he was angry.

And by God, he was pissed.

The alien, luckily, seemed to catch onto that. It turned to you, bowing deeply. "My sincerest apologies."

"Oh. Er... accepted?" You weren't... really sure what to make of this whole situation. It wasn't every day you got misgendered by an alien from a species with sixty-seven genders yet couldn't seem to grasp the idea of gender presentation.

As if no transgression had passed, the Doctor effortlessly moved on with a grin. "Now, how about we get you home?"

After you and the Doctor had dropped the alien off on its home planet and you had met, by your estimate, sixteen and a half of those aforementioned sixty-seven genders, you leaned against the TARDIS doors while the Doctor flipped random switches on the console -- you swore it was different every time.

"Are you all right?" the Doctor asked suddenly, and it was only then that you realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Erm, y-yeah, I'm... fine."

He did not look convinced -- understandably.

"Listen, what that alien said --"

"Is that all people see when they look at me? A little girl playing dress up?" you asked suddenly, stopping the Doctor in his tracks. "Is that all I'll ever be?"

The Doctor looked so devastated for a moment before he cleaned up his expression and replaced it with his carefully curated neutral default.

"I thought--" You were cut off by a sob that you did your best to choke back. "I thought I looked so great today."

"Hey, now," the Doctor said, joining you at the door in a few long bounds. You stared up at him hopelessly. "You do look great," he assured you as he leaned against the door with you. "You look how you want to look, and that's what matters. Right?"

"Not if people don't see me as what I'm trying to be."

"Oh, there's no trying," the Doctor said. "You are what you are. Other people don't matter. Even I don't matter. The only person, or alien, or whatever, who matters is you."

The way he looked at you made your heart swell, but you still weren't entirely convinced.

"Do you feel masculine right now?" he asked.

"Not really," you answered honestly.

"... Right. Well. I should've expected that. Okay. Did you feel masculine before that alien said anything?"

"... Yeah," you answered, still honest.

"Then you're masculine. Don't let anyone take that away from you. Especially an alien from a species with sixty-seven genders and yet no concept of being a different gender than the one you were born as."

"Do they have trans aliens in that species?"

"Yes! That's why it's so baffling!" the Doctor sighed exasperatedly.

"Oh, so they're just.... like, a mega bigot," you observed with a laugh. The Doctor returned the sound, and the two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles that lasted way too long, yet not long enough.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #queer reader #genderfluid reader #trans reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant

161 notes · View notes

allthegothihopgirls · 2 months

Note

What kind of music do you think each of the Batfam members listen to? (Besides Jason who is obviously a Mitski stan)

OH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!!!!! i'm gonna tryyyyy and take this seriously

starting off i think alfred's music taste influences just about everyone in the manor to some degree. lots of classical music flowing through the hallways at most hours of the day, the music reminds everyone of home. i think it's a general rule of thumb in the family that if you want to locate alfred, just follow the sound of mozart.

drawing off a bit of canon, i think dick listens to a lot of popular 80s stuff. the cure, joy division, the b-52s, billy joel, abba etc. that one panel of him humming 'here comes the sun' also comes to mind, i think he'd enjoy the beatles. however i do think he'd also be into some soft rock, maybe just a little bit of more intense stuff too. fleetwood mac's a big one i think he'd like. i've mentioned in a post before how i think dick would enjoy foo fighters in his post-robin rebellion phase, and i stand by that.

i do also enjoy his insane love for david bowie in the live-action titans adaption... very dear to me. i take that as gospel. also have a slight feeling he's a bit of a jazz guy once in a blue moon.

however i don't think he'd be overly into music, (the artists though, that's a whole other thing), i think he's also just happy to flick on the radio to some random dated station... or, don't crucify me... the top hits of the day.

i think jason's taste is a bit more refined. he's the #1 victim of alfred's classical music agenda, sitting in the library he's got something like 'lacrimosa' looping endlessly.

unlike dick who's got a happy-go-lucky approach to music, i think jason feels into it a bit more. he's joyriding through the city and listening to slipknot, sleeping with sirens, misfits etc etc. he's just looking for background music, maybe he's playing dashboard confessional, or... hear me out... lana del rey. he's out on patrol and is playing 90's rap through his helmet's bluetooth.

i think he'd also enjoy amy winehouse, the boys next door, no doubt, alice in chains, and maybe a bit of lorde. he's definitely into more indie bands too, local stuff. makes his own mixtapes and you'd only be able to recognise like 20% of the bands by name. he's also the one batfam member who i think would go to war to defend the songs he feels deeply about.

tim's a bit more difficult to narrow down, but i'll throw 90s alternative out there; jimmy eat world, oasis, radiohead, weezer, pearl jam type stuff. i'm also very set in my ways about femme-pop tim, which is definitely more out there and harder to justify. in terms of that i think beyonce, rihanna, and britney spears are the big three he'd enjoy.

i just think he likes anything with a beat tbh, it's not so much about genre or the actual song, as it is about the mood. similarly to dick, i don't think he's typically meticulous with defining his taste or anything, just happy to listen to whatever's making him feel good.

as for damian, i think anything with soothing instruments entices him. mainly classical, but not just limited to european stuff, i'm thinking of tyagaraja, toru takemitsu etc just off the top of my head. he'd also like elton john, queen, and other older artists with a polished vocal and avantgarde nature. i'm also going to put cartoon soundtrack music into the mix, specifically songs from adventure time. for whatever reason i'm also super drawn into the idea of him being big on kpop, although i don't know enough about the genre to make specific assumptions.

steph (ik she's not exactly batfam but i'm including her anyways) listens to predominantly female artists, and oscillates between very uplifting pop stuff, and.. societal hatred. so i think on one hand she's very into marina and the diamonds, kesha, and olivia rodrigo, but also paramore, hole, fiona apple, lorde etc. in contrast to all of that though she's also a huge fan of the beatles' solo careers, particularly paul mccartney.

cass is into a lot of the music she's done for ballet performances. the music for the snow queen instantly comes to mind as something that would be a favourite of hers. this might be a bit out there, but i think she'd enjoy grimes a lot, mostly because of how enriching it is to just listen to the sounds of, without having to pay much mind to the words she's speaking (grimes never really makes a lot of sense anyways). apart from that i don't think she really listens to all that much music, maybe some 2000s pop she hears on the radio driving around with steph.. i did enjoy the all star gag in batgirls (2022).

babs has a pretty similar taste to steph i think (i believe steph may have gotten some of her taste from her). she's a big fan of stevie nicks, gwen stefani, maybe the cranberries, hole, dolly parton, janet jackson, lauryn hill, and lesley gore. i'd like to say she enjoys a bit of 70s eccentric too, the doors, blondie, bowie etc. i don't think she's overly fussed with what she's listening to, as long as it doesn't sound too watered down and modern-pop like.

and i don't really know enough about duke to make assumptions, so i'm just going to let him sit out of this one. i also don't think bruce has any time for music, except for a bit of classical to help him concentrate every so often.

54 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 4 months

Note

i know you’ve talked about bill’s music tastes before, but do you have any head cannons for other characters’ music tastes?

i.e. do you think mabel would listen to vocaloid?

Mabel: here's what we know about her tastes.

She loves Dream Boy High; Dream Boy High's VCR tape design has nods to Jem & the Holograms, which has a million songs per episodes; Mabel has Xyler & Craz play synth music to defeat Bill; Mabeland plays 80's music. She's into extremely 80's-sounding synth-heavy pop. The music she plays in dream realms is the music closest to her heart. This is the core of her musical tastes.

There's something subtly, inexplicably different about music made for cartoons vs contemporary popular music, even when they're trying to portray the same genres. I can't describe what that quality is, but it's there. Anyway, if the core of Mabel's musical tastes is rooted in or near Dream Boy High, then she probably listens to other 80s cartoon soundtracks.

She's into 2010s acts that are throwbacks to late-1990s boy bands. She'd probably also like actual 90s boy bands.

She's fluent in modern top 40 music—which is no doubt where she she picked up Sev'ral Timez. I see her as the kind of kid who just keeps the radio on all the time. (And I do mean the radio—she didn't get a phone til the end of last summer, we see her with CDs, she probably had a radio long before she tried streaming.)

She's also fluent in classic rock ballads, but it's not her preference. She's a "grew up listening to the radio stations her parents picked on a car ride" kid. I suspect her dad plays 70s/80s pop in the car (cementing her primary musical tastes) because there's another Pines into synth pop so I've decided it's genetic, and her mom plays the classic rock. Mabel knows Don't Start Unbelieving from Mabel & Mom karaoke nights.

Dipper: if Mabel grew up listening to her parents' picks on the car radio, so did he. This is where he picked up his love for BABBA. From this we can deduce that, if their dad is the 70s/80s pop music parent, their dad probably drives them around more than their mom. I think you could safely give him other disco bands as well.

He plays the sousaphone but every band kid I've ever known treats band more like a musical sport than like a musical genre—the super passionate ones might practice extra and might watch other bands' performances, but they didn't just sit around listening to marching band music for fun. However, he also practices during the summer, even though he's in another state and obviously not participating in any summer band activities, which suggests an unusual passion for marching band. I still don't think he just listens to marching band music for fun but he probably keeps hearing songs and going "oh wow I've never heard the original before, only the band version."

He picked up a couple of indie folk bands to try to impress Wendy but he's not super into them.

Ford: He was on the absolute cutting edge of new wave & synth pop in the 80s. He was into the obscure stuff. Somewhere in the shack is a pile of cassettes by new wave acts the rest of the world has completely forgotten. He and Mabel trade music recommendations: he gives her the obscure as hell stuff and she tells him about all the cool new* (*post-1982) bands he never got to see. Mabel prefers peppier songs and he prefers moodier songs but there's a HUGE overlap between their tastes.

In a better, portal-less world, Ford's taste in new wave would have had time to drift into dark wave and cold wave, and from there slid over sideways to discover goth rock. There's an unhatched trad goth somewhere in his soul. He should have been listening to Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, and The Cure. He should have gotten a black trench coat because he thought it would make him feel cool, not because he was an interdimensional criminal on the run. It's not too late for him to discover it now, but by now he should have made it miles beyond the major 80s goth rock acts, gone down half a dozen increasingly obscure genre alleys, and be burrowed deep into some weird sub-sub-sub-genre of EBM you and I have never heard of.

He has a love/hate relationship with All Star.

Stan: He liked hanging out at a 50s-themed diner in the 70s. He likes 50s music. I also think he picked up a fair amount of Spanish-language 50s rock-and-roll while abroad. Once like five years ago Soos overheard Stan playing a record and singing a song Abuelita plays and it cemented his ambition to reverse-adopt Stan as his dad.

Soos: Popular hip hop and anime/video game soundtracks. Every rap song he knows has been on the Billboard Hot 100 but on the other hand he has the demo version of the extended version of the ending theme of an anime from 2001 that was never fully released outside Japan and he's probably got a fifteen-minute story about why he knows this song even exists. He's puzzled through the shipping info of a Japanese CD website to get the official soundtrack of the most dogshit anime you could imagine. He's spent a week pouring through anime convention forums trying to track down a song he overheard someone use as their background music at a cosplay contest. Lots of 8-bit.

Wendy: You know the stomp clap hey genre? That. I have nothing further to add, you know what I'm talking about. Her heart yearns to escape to hipster city. She didn't even like Robbie's music when they were dating, she just thought it was cool he made it.

I'm not gonna go through every character I have headcanons for, you don't need all that on one post. Anyway, have a work in progress playlist. It's rigorously organized. "😀😀😀 Character Name 😀😀😀" is what each character would like listening to, "😀 Zodiac Symbol 😀" is songs about each character, "🪐🪐🪐 Flatland 🪐🪐🪐" is backstory stuff, "🌎 Earth 🌎" is either songs I need on this playlist for the vibes or songs that belong in one of the other categories but I haven't sorted them yet. Some of the sections are still empty. I think this is forgivable since the playlist is already 11 hours long.

#anonymous #ask #gravity falls #headcanons #music

67 notes · View notes

flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Note

Hey I'm not too sure whether you are open for requests but I'll just leave it here anyway because I just absolutely LOVE the way you write mythical creatures and demons. (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥ Each and every one of your works were just devoured by me in mere hours after I found your profile. ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

Especially the one with Chase the tentacle monster. Yum. (͡⁠°⁠‿⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)✨

So I was wondering if it would be possible to write a drabble or smut of a yandere maedar. They are a bit lesser known Greek mythical creatures and are basically the male versions of gorgons. (Just in case you didn't know)

The fact about their loyalty to their mates is what made me wonder about them.

I had never heard of these before you sent this, but I love the idea of a male version of a gorgon. I immediately got attached to the idea of Rohan having tattoos on his head of snakes in honor of his sisters, which then made me visualize him as this total pierced up sort of biker badass! Thanks for sending me this, it's so interesting to do unique monsters.

Maeder (Rohan) x female reader

Word Count: almost 3k

W: nsfw monster smut, vaginal sex, some bullying and brief discussion of suicide, mention of yandere activities

“Rohan, stop hissing at him,” you chided your security guard.

“Hsssss!” he hissed louder, bearing his fangs this time.

The skinny man in the suit holding an 8.5x11 glossy of you with your cello might have pissed himself and practically tripped over his own feet running away.

Rohan was a pretty intimidating visage, that’s why your mother/manager had hired him to be your security guard. At eight feet tall and probably 500 lbs, the Maeder had a bald head covered with writhing tattoos of snakes bearing their fangs.

Venom dripped from their teeth, a vivid gold compared to his gray skin. Gold studs pierced his face above his eyebrow and a gold septum piercing hung in his nose. He didn’t look like the type of guy you wanted to fuck with.

You swatted his arm and his gold, reptilian eyes flicked to you.

“My job is security Miss (Y/N),” he growled, “these groupies are dangerous.”

“I think they are just harmless fans,” you assured him, rolling your eyes.

He grunted. Rohan didn’t think anyone was harmless, except maybe you. He saw the sick letters you got from psychos when he went through your mail. Any one of these “harmless fans” could be a serious threat. Your phone rang and you sighed, answering it.

“Hello mother,” you said, tightly into the phone.

“Where was your head at (Y/N)?” she snapped, “you won't get another sponsorship with that kind of performance. Have you been out partying too much?”

You huffed.

“Mother, you know where I’ve been…all I ever do is practice,” you grumbled at her as you made your way through the back of the concert hall with Rohan leading the way.

He guided you to a sleek limousine and helped you in. You always felt bad for how he had to crouch in these things to fit, but your mother ordered the cars and she didn’t take his comfort into consideration.

“Ugh,” you groaned, crumpling once you were inside. You loved the cello, but you hated the celebrity of it all. Your mother was a marketing genius and had helped you build a fabulous career, but now you wished you could just work on movie soundtracks at home instead of these public recitals she made you do. She wanted to expand your career, make you into a pop star or something.

You’d recorded two solo albums, composed the soundtrack to a popular video game, and appeared on the cover of a popular ladies’ magazine. Still, as successful as she’d made you, you didn’t get the scheme. You were just a nerdy girl who was good at one thing, playing the cello, not some flashy celebrity. You weren’t exceptionally gorgeous or crazy fit like she seemed to want you to be.

“Well you aren’t practicing enough,” she snapped, “and what are you eating? You look like a pig! I’m hiring you another trainer, that asshole obviously isn’t doing his job.”

You rubbed your eyes, probably smearing makeup all over your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Listening to her talk was like melting your face with an iron.

“Are you on your way home?” she snarled, “make sure you put some ice on your face before you go to sleep. You had bags under your eyes. You can’t go out there looking like a trash bin, (Y/N). I’ve got you an appointment scheduled for Botox next week and then we’ll start looking into a boob job.”

You put the phone on the car seat and closed your eyes, ignoring her prattling. She was going on about Botox options and body shaping. There was nothing wrong with your face and you didn’t need to go on a diet or get surgery. You needed to figure out how to unlink yourself from being your mother’s project. Maybe she could manage a celebrity puppy…though you hated to put anyone, even a dog, through her version of management. She’d probably make the puppy get leg lengthening surgery or something.

At some point Rohan just hit the red button to end the call. She’d go on for a while without even noticing you’d hung up if she ever noticed at all. Usually she just gave you some curt order about your diet or skincare routine before hanging up herself. You shot him a grateful glance.

“She’s just using you, you know,” he said, fiddling with a knife at his knee.

He was always so stoic except when he had something to say, which wasn’t often. Then he was nervous, even though his voice was deep and commanding.

“I know…but all this wouldn’t exist without her,” you said, waving vaguely at the expensive dress you were wearing, the limousine, your $10,000 cello, and even him, “It’s kind of a trade, isn’t it?”

He frowned.

“Usually trades are consensual,” he growled, waving back at you, “all this wouldn’t exist without you.”

“Mmm,” you said, “I guess. I could leave if I wanted, but where would I go?”

He snorted.

“You can’t actually,” he smiled darkly, “why do you think I’m paid so much?”

You looked at him blankly.

“What? My mother is paying you to keep me from running away?” you asked.

He nodded, his eyes trained on you, reading your expression.

“You’re her golden goose,” he said, “she was worried you’d fall in love with some tech mogul and want to quit. You’re the talented, beautiful genius, you’ll be just fine, but what about her? To keep her living in the way she’s grown accustomed to, she hired me to handle those sorts of things. Discourage suitors…report back to her on your relationships…Get rid of anyone who gets too close…all of that.”

He pulled out his phone and held up a screen with a notepad app full of dates and times.

“I’m supposed to be collecting data on your emotional state so she can use it to declare you unfit to manage your own estate,” he went on.

Your eyes widened.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked.

He shrugged and didn’t say anything else, looking away and shoving his phone back in his pocket. You glanced out the window at the city going by and frowned, tears pricking your eyes. Though you were hurt and felt betrayed, you didn’t get to be a nationally acclaimed cellist because you were weak of spirit. You took a deep breath and looked out the window, centering yourself.

“So I’ve really been a prisoner all along,” you murmured, seeing the tall buildings blurring together as prison bars, “aren’t you afraid now that I know, I’ll try to get away?”

He barked out a somber laugh and you supposed that was your answer. He was paid to make sure that didn’t happen and just by looking at him you could tell there wasn’t much hope.

Rohan pulled off his jacket and covered you with it as you made your way into your building to avoid the flashing lights of the few paparazzi posted outside. By your mother’s standards, you looked horrible. If she saw you on some blog with makeup smeared all over your face she would have a conniption fit.

For a moment you were surrounded with the scent of him and his cologne. He smelled a bit spicy. When you reached the top floor you wandered out onto your balcony, kicking your heels off behind you and looking out over the city. It was hard to feel like a prisoner up here, looking down at the rooftops. You leaned out, clutching the balustrade and took a deep breath in.

Thick warm hands, suddenly wrapped around you and you started.

“Don’t jump,” Rohan’s deep voice rumbled in your ear.

You spat out a dry laugh.

“You thought I was going to kill myself?” you rasped, “don’t you think it would serve you right, watching me throw myself off the building after what you just told me? You’re my jailor, after all.”

He turned you around to look at you, tipping your face up and his lips came down on yours, hungry and desperate.

“You're a fool if you think I’m just going to let her have you,” he growled an inch away from your face, “you’re mine (Y/N).”

His mouth smashed back into yours, one heavy hand holding you to him by your waist and the other wound in your hair so tightly you couldn’t move. You could only accept his kiss and moan into his mouth.

This was…unexpected…but not unwelcome. You’d always found Rohan to be attractive, he was just so serious you never thought he even considered sex. You’d never seen his eyes follow another man or woman except with a look of distrust in them. He was handsome so people threw themselves at him all the time, but he never seemed the slightest bit moved, always focused intensely on you.

The big hand on your waist drifted over your ass, cupping and squeezing the flesh. It slid further down and you let out a squeal, when he pulled you up to his chest, pulling your legs around his waist.

You dragged your lips away from him just a half an inch and whispered into his mouth.

“What is this? We shouldn’t be doing this,” you gasped, “you work for my mother.”

You were confused. He was your jailor, you shouldn’t be giving in to his advances. He chuckled and kissed you, pressing his tongue between your lips and twining it with yours. When he pulled away you were only aware of his words and his flavor, sweet cinnamon.

“I’m gonna fuck you against this window and then I’m gonna take you away from here.”

Before you could respond his thick hand jerked your dress down, snapping the thin spaghetti straps that held it up and letting your breasts pop out. He pulled your chest to his head and his mouth latched on to your nipple, kissing and suckling.

“Ahhh!” you wailed, surprised by the sudden hot, wet contact.

“Y-you sh-shouldn’t…” you tried to insist.

His mouth popped off your nipple for just a second.

“Then tell me to stop,” he growled, his nose brushing the flesh.

You just looked at him for a moment, but couldn’t bring the words to your lips. It felt too good. It didn’t matter what happened after this, you just wanted him.

He smirked and went back to laving your nipples with his tongue, pressing your back against the cool glass behind you. The only thing that came out of your mouth were moans and his name.

You felt his thick fingers fumbling with your panties until you heard a long rip. Pushing you further up the window, he shimmied your dress up your hips and attacked your pussy with long wet laps. His split tongue played with your clit and your legs instinctively wrapped around his head, pulling him closer as he drove you wild with his agile appendage.

Propped on his shoulders, he speared your cunt with his fingers. You were already soaking wet and your juices dribbled down his wrist as he pumped his digits inside of you mercilessly.

Screaming your channel clenched down on his fingers as you came with them inside. Colors flashed in your eyes and your hands clung to his head, nails making crescent dents on his skin. Pulling back, he grinned at you and spun you around to face the window.

“Do you know how many times I’ve watched you prancing around this fucking penthouse in those little booty shorts you wear, wanting to take you right here?” he growled, “I should have marked off the spot with chalk for how many times I jerked myself off, thinking about fucking you against this window. And as much as I loved rubbing one out over your pretty lips while you were sleeping, I’m gonna make this cunt mine for good.”

As alarming as that should have been, his glowing golden eyes reflected in the glass in front of you and his hot breath in your ear made your pussy leak even more at the admission and your clit sparkled with need.

He grabbed the back of your head, his fat fingers digging into your hair, and held your face against the cool glass while he freed his cock from his pants. You screamed his name as he impaled you with it in one smooth stroke, not even trying to hold back.

You had no idea but Rohan needed to take you like this. He needed to ruin you for anyone else. He’d been watching you for a year, obsessing over you, planning and plotting how he was going to take his mate. He would have already killed your mother if he thought it would get him any closer to having you. Instead he’d been collecting information on her and feeding it to lawyers he’d hired to make sure your interests were well represented.

He held you in the air with little effort, your arms and legs dangling as he pulled back and slammed into you again, all the while holding your head into the window. He’d pinned you against the glass so he wouldn't bruise your cheek as he took you as hard as he needed to. Though you felt like he was going to snap you in half each time he powered into you, your back arched.

From the edge of your vision you could see the glittering lights of the city sparkling below you. Your fingers pressed against the smooth surface because there was nothing else to hold on to as he slammed into you over and over again. Drool and your black mascara were streaking the glass.

You howled with every stroke, having never been stretched by someone so large before. His cock was long and thick, filling you to the brim and pounding your walls mercilessly.

“Fuck, babygirl, that’s it,” he groaned loudly, grunting like an animal as he thrust in and out of you, “you’re so fucking tight.”

Soon he was just growling “mine” and your name over and over again while he rutted you. You gasped and sobbed, your eyes crossed as his dick battered your G-spot.

With your pussy gushing around him, he jerked you back against his chest forcing you down over his cock a few more times before he emptied himself into you, grunting your name. The thread holding you together snapped and you orgasmed to his hot cum flooding you, barely noticing the sharp pain at your neck, where he bit you.

When he slipped out of you, he pulled you into a princess hold, folding his head down at the neck and nuzzling the bite.

“Wh-what was th-that?” you stammered.

It wasn’t bad, just unexpected.

“My mating bite,” he murmured, his voice a grumble rolling in your ear, “you’re mine.”

Your heart fluttered at that. Again, this was all so unexpected, but you didn’t find yourself upset…In fact you felt safe and supported. Like someone was finally on your team. Maybe that was foolish to assume, but as he carried you to your bedroom, you found yourself snuggling your face into his shoulder and sighing happily.

He stroked your hair as he climbed into your king sized bed with you still tucked in his arms. Arranging himself against the headboard he watched you fall asleep in his arms, gazing in awe at the bite on your neck you’d so easily accepted. Honestly, he’d worried you’d cry and fight and he’d wondered if he would have been able to hold himself back.

Your soft submission in that moment was so much sweeter and tied him to you more tightly than anything you could ever say would.

When you woke from your nap, he was going to help you pack your things to take you to a safe house where you could stay while you filed criminal charges against your mother for fraud. You were Rohan’s mate and he didn’t want to see you used as your mother’s meal ticket.

Even if legal means didn’t work, he would find illegal ones to accomplish his task. If you wanted to write soundtracks or albums or do nothing at all, he was going to keep you safe and secure till the day you died.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster smut #monster romance #x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere x reader

461 notes · View notes