#genuinely i will block out all the fights from my head sorry

[timdrakeslawyer]

let’s focus on these panels instead, nothing else is canon to me!

#dc comics #tim drake #robin #red robin #dc #batfam #damian wayne #look at them #just bickering like the lil bros of the family always do #they’re literally the younger siblings icb #but also there r sweet moments :( no matter how rare #genuinely i will block out all the fights from my head sorry #it’s for my mental health

[oneofthetorturedpoets]

keep on pretending pretty girl.

part 2

It's been three months since you and Regina started dating. No one knew about it and Regina made sure of that. Every rumor she shut down and every whisper she shut up. At first you didn't mind, you actually wanted it too, but then there were rumors that Regina was hooking up with Aaron in the third floor janitorial closet and that worried you. You knew that she dumped Aaron that same day she got with you but you also know that she has a history of cheating. She excuses it as her not knowing she was gay yet, but you're not sure if that's entirely true.

When you got the text that Regina was on her way to her college prep class, you waited about 15 minutes before marching your way up the stairs. With each step, your anxiety grew. Would Regina cheat on you? The thought kept circling your mind.

You reach the door, pulling it open to reveal a dark empty closet. You feel relief fall off of your shoulders. She wasn't lying to you.

-

'come over, we need to talk.' You got the message from Regina, right when you were getting ready for bed. You sighed, texting her back that you'll be right there.

In 20 minutes you were knocking on her front door, waiting to be let in. Regina's mom answers the door, not at all shocked to see you with how often you come over. "Hey girl! How are you? I'm so happy you're here, there was-" Regina is already right there, pulling you away from her mom and up the stairs.

Regina practically throws you on her bed. "I heard you were checking the janitor closets to see if I was cheating on you?" Anger laces her tone.

"I was, I'm sorry, I should've trusted you." You say, the words coming out worse than you want.

She scoffs. "Why didn't you? I haven't done anything for you not to trust me!"

You stand back up. "It's not that I don't trust you! It's the fact that we are hiding our relationship for no good reason!"

She shakes her head, walking to the other side of the room. "You know my status, if everyone found out-" It was your turn to be mad.

"They would what? Make fun of you?" You yell back.

"Yes!" The room fell silent. "wait, I didn't mean it like that" You turn around, walking out of her room. "Y/n, wait." You storm down the stairs.

"Maybe we can work this out when you're not embarrassed of me, Regina." You slam her door, walking to your car.

-

The next day was luckily Saturday so you wouldn't have to see Regina. That didn't stop her from blowing up your phone.

That day you just thought back to every time you interacted with her in school. She would look past you every time you saw her in the hallway. She would make sure to pick you up the next block over so no one saw you two together. She refused to sit next to you in class or be partnered up with you. To everyone else, it looked like she hated you. You knew that you were two very different people but for her to be embarrassed to be seen with you?

-

You saw Regina walking in to school that next Monday. You could tell that she wanted to talk to you but she stopped herself. Clearly still embarrassed by you.

-

Around fifth period, Regina pulled you into one of the closets. "Y/n, please-"

you genuinely laugh at her. "You can't even attempt to talk to me in public still... after our huge fight, nothing has changed? God Regina, you're hopeless." you walk out of the room, Regina follows.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I am not embarrassed of loving you, I want everyone to see how much I really do love you." Regina pulls you by your wrist, causing you to turn towards her. She tugs you closer, interlocking your lips. You melt into her, all of your anger and sadness washing off of you. Everyone is taking pictures and recording but you couldn't care less. "Please forgive me, y/n. I didn't mean to make you feel like I was embarrassed by you." You just shake your head, pulling her in to kiss you. Glad you're able to kiss her in public and not feel like you're doing something wrong.

-

taglist: @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69 @allamanamedearl @ricejucie @marvels--slut

to be added to the taglist, send in an ask!

#fanfic #fem!reader #my fic #wlw fiction #regina george x reader #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #regina george x you #regina george #mean girls 2024 #mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls musical

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

wait now i’m so curious of how jason would be with a mortal girlfriend like your headcanons for percy were so good and it’s such an interesting concept

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x mortal! reader hcs

content: jason grace x mortal! reader hcs warning: language, fluff then immediate angst that will give you whiplash so sorry but it was also too fun not to put in author's note: I WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IT WAS GOING SO WELL AND THEN I GOT SAD AND I MADE THIS HEARTBREAKING MONSTROSETY YOUR WELCOME also, I made that text thingy myself bc I wanted it to match the Percy one and I’m v proud of it so if you guys could fill the comments with ‘wow that text looks so good and made me Laugh Out Loud you’re so funny’ that’d be great for my ego thanks

you guys didn't met at school, obvi

genuinely have no idea if this guy is smarter than a fifth grader but that's a topic for another day

jason was just doing his big time praetor thing, ya know how it be, killing monsters and what not

and you were happily walking through rome, trying to enjoy your vacation when you basically got body slammed by a lady in an annoyingly scratchy feather suit.

"hey! watch it!" you shouted, indignantly from the ground, causing the lady to spin and growl at you.

now that you were squinting up at the woman, you realized the scratchy feather suit wasn't a feather suit at all but rather just scratchy feathers attached to this lady.

"you're dinner, kid!" she squawked at you and you did the natural thing; scream your head off.

jason, with his wonderful timing, finally came by and stabbed the harpie, leaving her to disintegrate

"are you oka-"

"WHAT THE FUCK!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!" you continue to scream, heaving breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

jason crouched to your level, tossing his sword behind him and hold his hands out gently

"hey, hey. it's okay, you're okay. i'm- i'm jason. and sorry," he spoke, softly, as you were calming yourself down

tho, his sweet voice was helping

"i'm y/n. i would say nice to meet you but i think you're a murderer so," you replied, eyeing him carefully and looking like you were ready to bolt.

"no, i'm not."

"you know, that's exactly what a murderer would say."

"fair point."

"not helping your case, buddy," you mused, a smile growing on your lips despite the situation. and you could see his lips twitching too, fighting the urge to turn upwards

"how about i explain over gelato? there's a great place a few blocks from here," jason offered, holding his hand out to pull her to her feet.

you chewed your lip in contemplation before taking his hand, the words your mother told you before you left for your trip ringing in your ears

"i mean, romans are hot! nothing quite like an european romance, huh?!"

maybe she was smarter than you gave her credit for

so, jason got you gelato, begrudgingly let you pay as you made a compelling case of 'he saved your life and you owe him.'

and then he explained it all to you, shattering your world view.

"you ever hear of a guy named percy jackson?"

"wait- you mean the twelve year old who blew up like the st. louis arch and a bus or something while traveling across america?? of course i've heard about him, he's like a new york legend!!"

"he's a demigod too. greek, but still."

"no way. you're pulling my leg, right?"

jason shook his head at the girl, who burst into laughter, shaking in her seat

jason couldn't help himself, her laugh infectious and causing him to laugh lightly himself

he knew reyna would have his ass for being out so long, but he couldn't just leave a pretty girl like yourself alone

the sun had set and jason was slowly leading the pair towards new rome, the logical part of himself screaming to get home

now with the warm sun gone, you were starting to get cold

in your defense, you dressed for summer roman sun with your flowy sundress, not cold breezes

without a second thought, jason tugged his denim jacket off and set it on your shoulders

"oh, but you'll be cold-"

"you matter more," jason cut in, instantly, with a charming smile that left you weak in the knees.

you blushed, looking away.

"how about...i keep this and you get this," the girl mused, gesturing to the jacket before reaching up and taking her necklace off and settling it into jason's hand

he inspected the gold necklace, the heart locket charm feeling heavy with age in his hand

he looked up at her with a questioning look and she smiled at him with an all-knowing look in her eyes

"so we can find each other again. i'll have your very warm jacket and you have my necklace. if these fates you speak of are so kind, we'll meet again," she told him and jason laughed lightly, finding her belief loveable

"we'll meet again, jason grace, the kind son of jupiter. i'm sure of it," she added, cupping his face with one hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

jason blushed instantly before catching her hand as she tried to pull away, flipping it and pressing his lips to the back of her hand

"I'll wait then, y/n l/n, the darling daughter of your mother. until then," he bid his goodbyes, hearing the girl's laugh in his ears as she walked away.

he wrapped the necklace around his wrist, the chain just long enough to allow the charm to dangle without him being worried of it breaking.

reyna chewed him out, but he took it with a dopey smile

it all felt worth it to him, glancing down at his wrist and feeling that warm feeling of love

years later, jason would glance down at his wrist and feel nothing, riding in a bus to the grand canyon, a million miles away from the home he doesn't remember

and more importantly, a million miles away from a girl he doesn't remember.

he'd make his way to rome, discovering about his life as he went, seeing flashes of a girl in a sundress but nothing solid.

once he was back in new rome and still no memories came, jason took a walk around the city, huffing as he went

he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this, but he thought the fates cruel

"to pluto with them," he huffed as he plopped down on a bench, looking over at the city he was supposed to love but now he wasn't so sure.

"well, if it isn't jason grace, the lovely son of juipiter, if i recall correctly. i believe you have something of mine," a girl's voice called, her regal words barely hiding her excited tone as she halted to a stop and made her way towards jason's bench.

jason turned, inspecting the girl who wore a well loved denim jacket and kind smile

"i'm sorry, do I know you?"

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace #jason grace x reader

[heartless-tate]

Holding you until you fall asleep. - K. Cigarettes after sex

RHYSAND X READER

Summary; just a short little comfort fic. Reader has a bad day, Rhys puts you to sleep.

warnings; cussing maybe? Really short just a Drabble. I wrote this mostly for myself. Rhysand blocks out negative thoughts, bad day, little bit of angst with comfort, No use of Y/n, I didn’t have time to look over or edit sorry!

word count; around 500 words

a/n; Heyy! This is just a little comfort fic. Hope you enjoy.

Warmth. Complete and utter warmth was all you felt as leathery wings tucked you in closer. 

Today had been a bad day. No- an awful day. So many bad things kept happening that eventually whenever you couldn’t get your pen to work, you had bursted into tears. In front of everyone. Embarrassingly so. 

Everyone had gone silent watching as you threw the pen on the table and stomped away shutting yourself in your mate’s room. He hadn’t been there yet, off at the Illyria camps ensuring everything was okay. The laughter and talking began soon after you slammed the door shut to his room and climbed into his bed. Big fat wet tears raced down your face as you shoved your head into a pillow and screamed. 

Rhysand had found you a few minutes later, wasting no time in removing his clothes that stunk and putting on cleaner ones. And then carefully lifting you up into his arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He had you straddle his waist as he shushed you with a finger to your lips. His heart broke into tiny fragments at seeing you cry. He gently kissed away your tears, before placing his forehead on yours and holding your face with two hands. His thumbs mindlessly rubbed gently at your cheeks as he peered into your eyes. 

You said nothing, wanting to squirm under his watchful gaze but you knew he wouldn’t let you go. It took a while for you to realize he genuinely loved you and would never judge you when the bond first snapped. But now you knew he loved you no matter what. You eyes closed as you felt talons scraping lovingly at your mind asking for permission to enter. You opened your shields allowing your mate in, to see everything. 

He carefully absorbed everything that had happened today before starting to block any negative thoughts. He’d let you see any thoughts of importance in the morning but for now, he was very aware you wouldn’t close your eyes and sleep with all the stress you had locked up in your mind. He started hiding and removing any evidence of your bad day, relaxing and calming your mind to a peaceful stillness of only positive thoughts. He didn’t plant thoughts in your head- he just only let you think peacefully. 

It was comforting- not having to struggle to control your hurricane of a mind. You briefly felt Rhys moving you so he cradled you while laying down. You now laid in his left wing while his right was laid over you as a protective shield from the outside world. Everything went quiet, and heat radiated from his body. You felt his talons caressing and holding your mind for you and it was a strange type of relief you had never felt before. As he whispered comforting and loving words in your ears, all you could do was fight for your eyes to stay open- to listen to his praise. But his hand came to lovingly rub your back.

You eyes shut and as you drifted to a comforting sleep, the last thing you heard was,

“I will love you for eternity, my darling.” 

#rhysand #rhys acotar #nyx archeron #x reader #imagine #rhysand x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acomaf #acowar #x you #rhysand X you #short drabble #rhys #azriel #inner circle

[sturniololoco]

Shy pt 4

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x Nathan doe

Warnings: Cussing, verbal fighting, a little bit of physical fighting, kissing, etc.

Nate's POV

I woke up the next morning, still snuggled up close to SLS/N. I quietly got up, trying not to wake her, and then crept out of the room to find a clean pair of shorts and a shirt.

after I got changed, I walked down to the living room where the triplets were.

"Morning," I say, walking into the kitchen to grab a bagel.

Only Nick responds.

I sit down on the couch, pulling out my phone, but when I look up I see Matt and Chris glaring at me. Nick was averting my eyes, looking down at the floor.

"Uh... is something wrong?" I ask feeling stupid for asking when I had clearly done something to upset them.

"Nope. Just the fact that your sleeping with my sister. No big deal. " Chris spat at me, standing up off the couch.

Shit. SLS/N is gonna kill me.

"Man, c'mon. It's not like that!" I say, standing up with him and blocking his path as he tries to escape the living room. Matt let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head. Nick stayed silent.

"Oh, so your just fucking with her then?" Chris yells, extending his arms and pushing him out of the way. As he walks past me, I grab his shoulder, trying to turn him around, to reason with him.

Instead, I get punched in the face.

"Chris!" I hear Matt and Nick yell, standing up and running over. I feel ly lip where I felt the most impact.

Blood.

"Chris, I'm upset too, but now you're being ridiculous!" Matt shouts at his brother, looking at my face. Nick has a hand on my back, making sure I'm okay.

I look up at Chris. He has a shocked look on his face, like he couldn't believe what he'd just done. He takes a step towards me, extending his hand, but I quickly shuffle away from him.

"Nate, man-fuck-I just-" He begins to say, trying to come up with an excuse for my lip gushing blood.

"Nate?" I hear a voice from the stairs, only to see SLS/N standing there with a horrified look on her face.

SLS/N's POV

I walk down the stairs, only to be met with the sight of Chris punching Nate in the face.

I quickly rush over to Nate, not caring that I just woke up and looked like trash. I lightly grab his chin and examine what had happened.

"SLS/N, I-"

"We just-"

Matt and Chris try to speak, to explain what happened, but I cut them off, feeling my anger boiling under my skin.

"No. I'll deal with you two in a minute. Nate, go to the bathroom." I demand. My brothers instantly shut up, watching as I followed Nate to the bathroom and shut the door.

He gets up on the bathroom counter while I dig under the sink for the alcohol and cotton balls.

He doesn't say a word as I stand between his legs, getting close to his face while I work on his busted lip.

I dab at his cut with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. he inhales sharply, pulling away from the sudden burn.

"Shh, you're okay," I say, lightly grabbing his chin and pulling his face back towards me.

I can feel his eyes on me the entire time I'm working, my cheeks turning pink with the rising heat caused by the attention.

"SLS/N?" He asks, trying to keep his mouth still for me.

"Yes?" I reply.

"My lip hurts. I think you need to kiss it to make it feel better." He whines, giving me puppy dog eyes.

I giggle lightly, putting my materials away. I pulled his head down and kissed the top of his head, not on the lips because I didn't want to hurt him.

He leans into me, resting the side of his face on my chest while I lightly play with his hair. His arms wrap around my waist and we stay like that for a minute.

Soon I pull away, saying,

"I'm going to deal with my brothers. You okay in here for a minute?" I ask him.

He nods, kissing my cheek before I leave.

-

I walk out to the living room to see all my brothers on the couch, looking guilty. Except for Nick, he just looks upset.

chris looks up.

"I-Is he okay?" He asks me, genuinely worried. I nod, then he goes back to being sorry.

"Guys? What happened?" I ask, my voice coming out as a whisper as I feel the mention begin to rise in the back of my throat and eyes.

Chris looks up at me, tears in his own eyes.

"I just- I can't stand to see you hurt. I don't want you to get your heart broken. And I know you deserve the very best. I just want to know if he's really what you want." He says, a few stray tears falling onto his face.

"Do you really love him?" Matt asks, looking up at me with tears falling from his own eyes.

I nod, blinking back the water in my eyes.

"I do. I really do. He's amazing in every way. He loves you guys, he loves me for who I am, and would never ever do anything to hurt me." I say.

They both nod giving me smiles. I run forward and wrap my arms around each of them.

"Thank you," I say.

-

I go get Nate out of the bathroom, and he is immediately met with a hug from my brothers. Chris and Matt talk it out, making up and agreeing.

"But I want no funny business! Door 3 inches open at all times!" Chris tells him sternly.

Nate salutes him saying "Yes sir!"

I walk over and sit next to Nate. He wraps his arms around me from behind. I lean back and he kisses me softly, being careful of his lip.

"I love y-" He begins to say, but it is cut off by my brothers.

"EWWWWWWW!" They all shout at once, bursting out with laughter.

"I guess I better get used to that, huh?" He says, smiling down at me.

Damn right!" Nick shouts.

I roll my eyes, leaning back to kiss Nate once more.

Thats it! I hope y'all liked this story! I'll definitely be doing more in the future, as well as more Nate one-shots!

Tag List: @idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe #nathan doe smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo

[oddballwriter]

Reader fangirling over moon knight not knowing it was steven/marc/Jake? 🎃

Under Your Nose

Warnings: Not much other than the moon boys lying to you and keeping a secret from you. Also the idea of walking alone at night while drunk. 

Author’s Snip: I am so sorry, I literally forgot that this was in my inbox. Sorry for the long wait.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 764

They found it kind of funny. In a sense. You had no idea that the vigilante that you've been fixating on is actually your boyfriends. You didn't live with them so you wouldn't know that them leaving for something was actually them going on a mission. It also kept you from connecting the dots that whenever they leave, Moon Knight's out and about.

They liked to hear your praise. In a way, you not knowing that it's them made your positive comments more genuine because, to you, Moon Knight was just a crime fighter that you would hear about, and so the influence of them being your boyfriends didn't make way for a bias. There were, however, sometimes there were cases where they barely managed to keep the secret.

One night, there was a gang that the boys had to take care of that put up more of a fight than they thought they would and left the system sore from having to fight back and defend. When the next day came, Steven, who was fronting at the time, decided to pay you a visit. But you were able to tell that he was stiff. When you asked, Steven threw the explanation that Jake was fronting last night and he had done an intense workout. You took it and so it was left at that. "Well, then how about we lay down and watch something so you can feel better, yeah?" you recommend. Steven just nodded with a smile,

Next came the time that you had gone out with friends to a bar and had more drinks than you usually do. You decided to walk to the boys' flat since you were not sober and didn't have a ride, and it was closer to the bar than your place. Maybe you should have texted them as a heads-up to your sudden arrival, but by the time you thought of that you were already going up in the elevator.

When you knocked, there wasn't an answer. Maybe they were asleep, it was pretty late after all. After remembering that they had given you a spare key, you unlock it and let yourself in, trying to be as quiet as you can. But looking around, no one was even home. You figured that maybe Jake was cabbing around town or Marc was on a late-night walk. With that idea in mind, you shot them a text telling them that you were at their place and why before taking a quick shower. changing into some clothes you had there, and promptly falling asleep in their bed.

Marc was there in the morning making you some breakfast. He of course, just confirmed that he was out for a stroll around the block because he couldn't sleep, even though he was patrolling. If anything he seemed more concerned that you walked there alone drunk in the dead of night. "I'm fine. It was just a ten-minute walk here." you shrug off. "Still, I don't like the idea of you walking alone like that when it's dark out." Marc said. "I'm surprised we didn't run into each other to be honest." you remark.

And then there was Jake. He had to deal with getting information out of someone and he figured that the best way was the old 'talk in a chair' way. But as it turns out, that guy was more of a hassle than he thought too. He put up a good fight and actually got him good with a punch to the face that damaged his nose. But they always, lose when it's Jake so he got his way in the end. But when you came over the next day, again, you say the bandage and got worried. "It's nothing, beba. I had this guy in my cab. He was drunk off his ass and being a pain. When I looked at him to tell him to knock it off he socked me in the nose." Jake lied. He could still see the concern on your face as to gently touched his bandage. "I'll be fine." he said as he kissed you on the forehead.

It's not that the boys want to keep lying to you. If anything all three hate it. But they feel this air of worry when thinking about you knowing too. They know it's dumb. And they know that they can't keep up the secret for long since they want you to be in their lives. But they just need to think of how to bring it up to you at some point.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

[the-kr8tor]

IMAGINE COWBOY HOBIE WITH A SINGER READER WHO SINGS TO MAKE MONEY SO ONE DAY HOBIE COMES TO THE CITY BECAUSE HE HAS TO LIKE HUNT SOMEONE DOWN OR SMT AND GOES TO THE TAVERN AND SEES READER SING AND HES ABSOLUTELY MESMERISED

SORRY AN IMAGE IS MY HEAD RN

Another cowboy! Hobie request! Thank you, lovely, I hope you like it 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, minimal dialogue, No specific physical description of the reader, Cowboy! Hobie, Western AU, Cowboy AU, TW violence, CW injury, CW drinking. Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie enters the tavern, all bloodied knuckles, leather and broken skin. His horse, Harley, whinnies outside, glad of the rest from all the running she'd done earlier. The patrons quiet down, roaming their eyes on the stranger. Some glare at him, looking for a fight while the alcohol is still fresh in their veins. A few look away after seeing his twin pistols strapped on his waist. His lasso swing next to his pistol, the rope shredded and well used.

His hat hides the cut on his eyebrow, lips dry, he saunters over to the bar, spurs clinking, hands tucked in his belt buckle.

Sitting down on the creaking stool, he flicks the brim of his hat, emerald eyes wordlessly stares at the bartender who slides a glass of whiskey over to his waiting hand.

The amber liquid warms his insides, numbing the pain from his recent injuries. He swirls the alcohol in the glass like a swirling whirlpool of ambrosia, threatening to drown him in its warmth.

A soft guitar strums on his right, his aching neck turns to the sound, his eyes find you sitting on a similar stool, a worn guitar sitting on your lap, a smile on your lips. A sight for sore eyes in the dim smoky tavern.

You press your lips close to the mic, hands shaking, eyes fluttering shut as you start singing.

The noisy bar suddenly silences, numerous eyes watch you on the little stage covered in sticky alcohol. Ears perk up at your rhythmic strumming. There's goosebumps rising under Hobie's leather clad arms.

Your voice drops on him like a bucket of ice water, waking him up from his stupor. He can't seem to remove his eyes from you, for the first time in a while, Hobie smiles genuinely.

The alcohol lay forgotten in his hand as you sing your third song of the night. Apparently the patrons don't like him staying for two songs more.

Two men sidle up next to him, one blocks you from his view, the other right behind him, so close that he can feel the man's foul breath on his nape.

“You're far from home, stranger” one drawls, whiskey breath fanning Hobie's face.

“This town ain't big enough for ya.” The other man says, fingers reaching for Hobie's collar.

Before they get their hands on Hobie, he grips his glass, flinging it towards the man behind him, nailing him right on his temple.

A fight ensues, you jump away from your seat, eyes wide, using your guitar to shield yourself from flying bottles. Backing away, you dodge a glass.

Hobie fights his way towards you, kicking a man right on his groin, earning a high pitched scream from the man. Another patron, too drunk to see straight, hobbles over to you with a sick grin. Hobie sees this, already sprinting and dodging flying stools to get to you.

He unclips his lasso to hogtie the man down, but you beat him to it by smashing the man's head with your guitar. The broken wood splinters, the sound pinging in his ears.

The drunkard fall on his back like a hay bale, the broken guitar around his neck, head poking out of it.

Hobie looks at you dumbfounded, a growing smile on his lips. He stands there with his hands holding on to the lasso while chaos surrounds him. The second you look at him with your pretty eyes, everything seems to stop just for you.

You smile back at him, all saccharine, eyes crinkling in the corners. Your reach for him, flexing your fingers. Without a word, he takes your hand. And you run away with him, through the backdoor, away from the mayhem, and onto the dry plains.

He knows he's met his match. And you can't wait to get to know the mysterious cowboy who gladly took your hand without question.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #cowboy au #cowboy! hobie #western au #hobie brown x gn! reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x gn! reader #cw drinking #cw injury #tw violence #hobie fluff #fanfic #cowboy! hobie brown x reader

[kingluffy5]

GRRRRR IMAGINE TAILUNG ( from kungfu panda ) WITH a leopard reader who has a smaller body than him, LIKE IMAGINE WITH THE SIZE DIFFERENCE HOW NICE CUDDLING WOULD BEEEE

All right so obviously I have to change some things around in terms of story. In this Tai Lung when finding out he is not the Dragon Warrior decides to continue training at the Jade Palace as a master, he is considerably less violent but will still be sassy, and in this au he is actually good friends with Po. This one will be small do to a lack of specificity on what you want and nothing to really base off of.

Tai Lung x Leopard Reader (GN)

Tai Lung has been training for a while and Y/N just wants to cuddle

3rd Person P.O.V.

Sounds of kung fu could be heard from the pool of sacred tears as Master Tai Lung was training with the Dragon Warrior, Po.

“If that is all you can do Panda I just might claim the title of Dragon Warrior yet,” Tai Lung jokingly mocked as the two dueled.

“Don’t start thinking this fight is over just yet Tai Lung, KICK OF AWESOMENESS!!!!” Po yelled as he kicked at Tai Lung’s stomach.

“Po you know I can easily block that right?” Tai Lung said as he flips Po over him.

“Yeah but it gives me the chance to do this,” Po revealed as he stepped on Tai Lungs tail.

“AHH! Mother of - ”

“Tai Lung are you still training!” A voice yelled, one that is able to strike fear into the hearts of legendary warriors such as Tai Lung, Po, and even Master Shifu himself.

1st Person P.O.V.

Here I am walking all the way up to the pool of sacred tears when Tai Lung said he would be done training hours ago, after the recent attack on the Valley by Kai he started training more and more and it is like I barely see him any more. I get he wants to train to protect the people of the Valley but I still want him to come home before I go to sleep.

Once I get to the top of the mountain I see Po and Tai Lung shivering which is weird because even if we are this high up it is still pretty warm out.

“You promised to be home hours ago,” I angrily reminded my partner.

“I’m sorry dear you see we just lost track of time,” He said honestly and guiltily.

“Heroes of the Valley my butt you two would lose your heads without me and Shifu here to make sure you don’t overwork yourselves come,” The statement came from a place of care as me and Tai Lung were partners in every way, romantically, as well as in Kung Fu. While I do not train in the ancient art and am smaller than the likes of him and Po, and would likely easily lose most fights, I make sure Tai Lung takes care of himself.

“You’re right dear, let’s go home and rest,” He suggested.

— — —

We ate dinner in silence and were now in bed, also in silence.

“Are you still made at me Y/N?” He asked.

I growled in response, confirming his question.

“I’m sorry that we were training for so long, and I know it probably does not make up for it but we did genuinely lose track of time,” He apologized.

“But why do you have to train so much? I want you to be home more,” I asked.

“When Kai attacked I was almost powerless to stop him, I didn’t want to have that feeling of you not being safe anymore, I want to always be able to protect you,” He said.

I suddenly curl up into him and bury my face into his chest, “Just shut it you big lug,”

#kung fu panda #tai lung #tai lung x reader #dragon warrior

[yourfatherlucifer]

Without Me (SM/JY)

Ex!Idol!Mingi x idol!afab!reader x idol!Yunho

Summary: You supported him through his journey, until he realized how famous he had become. Then he threw you aside like you were nothing. Unfortunately for him..you had a plan.

Warnings: none except mingi and Yunho fighting and this one shot being shitty

AU: None

Genre: Angst

WC: 1.3k

Nets: @newworldnet

Inspired by Without Me by Halsey

“Mingi! Look!” You shook the paper in your hand in excitement but all he could do was wave you off.

“I’m busy, Y/N.” Mingi readjusted his headphones and completely blocked you out once more.

You sighed in defeat. You had been working on your lyrics sheet for so long and when you finally finished it, you were excited to share it. As usual, Mingi pushed you away without another thought.

You wondered what got into him lately. He was the one who invited you to the studio to begin with. If he didn’t want you there, then why.

“Fine.”

You folded your paper and shoved it in your pocket and left the studio.

You remembered when the two of you used to be so happy together.

“Oof!” You slammed into someone’s chest the second you closed the door behind you.

“Oh my, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” It was Yunho.

You couldn’t help but smile at his voice, relieved to hear someone who was actually interested in talking to you.

You looked up to meet his eyes, his cheeks lightly flushed, “Hi, Yunho, I was just leaving.”

“Why? I thought you were excited to hang out with Mingi?” He genuinely looked confused but he knew how his member and best friend could be around you. Even he noticed the change.

“Um..He just..he doesn’t want me in there, I don’t think.” Your shoulders slumped as your voice slowly began to quiver. This hurt Yunho.

“Do you want to get something to eat with me, Y/N?” Yunho held his hand out to you with his attempt of a comforting smile.

-

Weeks had passed and you noticed Mingi was straying even further from you. He even stopped engaging in conversations with you unless someone else was around.

He looked so happy on stage and surrounded by fans but when he was around you, he’d turn sour and ignore you. It hurt so much. Did he even love you?

You even noticed how he’d flirt with fans on fancalls, the evidence being posted online for you to see. It would only give you tears.

There’s no way he still loved you. He never looked at you.

He even stopped inviting you to hangout with him and the members, or even just the studio. The boys had to invite you themselves and even then, he’d ignore you.

Every night was filled with you crying into your pillow. You stopped receiving goodnight texts from him several weeks ago.

Eventually, you gave up. You had to confront him.

“Song Mingi.” You stomped up to him.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He didn’t even bother looking away from his screen.

Your fists clenched in anger and his members stared in shock, too afraid to say anything. This was the first fight they ever witnessed between the two of you.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, dude.”

“Dude?” Mingi set down his phone in disbelief.

“Do you even love me?” Tears brimmed your eyes but you didn’t give up.

“What are you talking about?” His eyes grew bored and that pissed you off. He truly didn’t care.

“I’m literally the only one trying to keep us together, Song Mingi. You can barely even look at me!”

Mingi ignored the stares from his members and chuckled, “And? I’m not complaining, might as well break up then.” He shrugged you off like it was nothing and went back to his phone.

You couldn’t believe him.

“You..what?” Tears flowed freely down your cheeks, “That’s what you really want? After all we’ve been through? I’ve been with you since the beginning..and you get a taste of fame and all of the sudden you don’t love me anymore? I was there for you in your darkest times..”

Mingi nodded his head agreement, “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Goodbye Y/N.” He wiggled his fingers in a mocking goodbye.

“Fuck you, Mingi.” You stormed off without another word.

His members jaws were dropped in shock, “Mingi..what have you done?” Hongjoong mumbled.

Even Yunho wanted to run after you but he didn’t. He’d find you later and comfort you in peace.

-

It had been a year and you made your hot debut. You were thriving, you had your revenge planned since your breakup.

Fighting against the standards, you wrote a song, a song exposing your ex, Song Mingi.

The stage scared you, but it was time. To showcase your debut song, Without Me. But of course, Ateez was also showcasing their comeback after you. Perfect timing.

Your fingers were wrapped tightly around your microphone, the cheers finally dying down as the light focused on you.

You took in a heavy breath as you sang your revenge.

You were doing so good so far when you reached your chorus, the part you waited for, the part targeted towards him.

“Tell me how’s it feel, sitting up there? Feeling so high but too far away to hold me. You know I’m the one who put you up there. Name in the sky, does it ever get lonely? Thinking you could live without me.” You were seething as the lyrics flowed within you.

Yunho watched in amazement, he was excited for your debut. Even texted you everyday telling you how he couldn’t wait. He was the only one you kept in contact with.

He saw how Mingi couldn’t even watch. He knew the song was about him. He knew it was too late. He regretted his actions but he didn’t deserve you. Even Yunho told him that.

The day the two of you broke up, Yunho was pissed at Mingi. How could he let such an amazing thing slip right through his fingers? He even punched his best friend, something Yunho never would have done but he was angry. Angry at how horrible Mingi treated you. Treated you like you were nothing to him anymore.

Hell, you supported him all the way to his debut. You were there everyday for their training, every single day cheering him on. He was even jealous of how in love the two of you were but it was for nothing anyway. Not when Mingi let you go so easily.

Yunho couldn’t look at his best friend for days, he even had to pretend on camera that he still liked him.

Even his CEO didn’t blame him for hurting Mingi but he still had to talk with him, especially because of the busted lip he gave Mingi. The whole KQ company was like family to you, they were sad to see you go since you were there from the start.

Yunho watched as you fought back tears as you reached the end of your song. Oh how he wanted to run up there and hold you tight.

You bowed towards the crowd as the cheers erupted. While you wiped away the stray tears, you waved at your fans and walked off stage. Only to meet Yunho.

“Hi, Yuyu. It’s good to see you.” You hadn’t seen him in awhile, especially since you’ve been so busy preparing for your debut.

“You did amazing.” He stepped up closer with a smile on his face, hand reaching out to grasp yours, “I’m so proud of you.”

Mingi walked towards the voices, seeing how the two of you were interacting. He was jealous. Yet he knew fucked up. There was no going back. He couldn’t change the past.

How could he let you go?

“So, Y/N, I have a question.” Yunho’s cheeks were once again tinted with heat.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Your heart filled with excitement at his words.

“I’d love to, Yunho.” You squeezed his hand tightly, oh how you waited for this.

Mingi saw this coming, he had to right? If only he didn’t break your heart, you’d still be his.

Now he truly lost. His world had come crashing down. You were gone forever.

His best friend won you over.

You would never be his again.

#ateez x reader #x reader #Mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #Yunho x reader #Jeong Yunho x reader #newworldnet

[deadlyashesart]

Alastor's dissapearance (Part 4)

Whoa, writer's block is finally gone?! No way!! Anyway, I'm sorry it's such a short chapter after such a long wait. This isn't the last chapter! I have a few more ideas I'd like to write that follow this timeline. It may be a little OOC, but I find it a little difficult to write vulnerable Alastor... Hope you enjoy anyhow, and stick around for more!! Thank you all for the support! <3

Part 3

-----

She didn’t dare cry, because how could she? She wouldn’t let her emotions over a guy she hadn’t seen in seven years affect her ability to work or protect her subjects. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel, at the very least until she figured out a way to minimize the impact of the exorcism that was coming in only a few months. She was a very busy woman, after all.

A week passed since, but It didn’t take long for it to reach Rosie’s ears that he had stepped foot back into Cannibal Town.

Alastor walked casually, a hand rested behind his back while the other held his cane. He could feel the stares of judgment from the cannibals burning into his skull. Usually, he wouldn’t give less of a damn, but the guilt that had been rotting him from the inside out was growing with each cold glance.

Eventually, he reached Rosie’s Emporium. It was fairly early in the morning, and the building was still closed. He knocked thrice, hoping a certain white-haired cannibal overlord would open the door.

His silent prayers to himself had been answered and his smile became a little more genuine as Rosie came to the door. She didn’t look thrilled to see him. She held back an annoyed groan and instead opted for a tired sigh. “What are you doing here, Alastor?”

“I believe I owe you an apology,” he answered, his voice annoyed her.

Rosie had to admit that Alastor looked different. More vulnerable, in a weird way, despite still having his usual smile plastered on his face. “Please leave. I don’t have time for this. Besides, don’t you have that little hotel to tend to?” Rosie attempted to close the door, but Alastor wedged his cane between the gap and made it impossible to.

“I fear our long-awaited reunion didn’t go to either of our expectations. I do not want our friendship to falter over a silly miscommunication, so please allow us to try again.”

“You disappeared for seven years and couldn’t even send me a letter regarding your return. That isn’t just a silly miscommunication, you’re just being an inconsiderate asshole.” Rosie’s tone wasn’t angry or sad anymore. Instead, it was stern, numb of any other emotion. This was her way of protecting herself.

Alastor’s ears flattened against his head. He didn’t want to act desperate. He had an image to maintain after all, and he was still standing in public. But he needed Rosie to hear him out or he’d never forgive himself. “I brought you something… As a show of good nature. I’m not here to start a fight or hurt you like I did before.”

Appearing in his hand from a cloud of dark smoke was a small bouquet, roses to be exact. He wasn’t a very creative gift-giver.

Rosie stared at him for a moment, taking the bouquet. She gave a deep sigh and opened the door fully. “Very well.”

“Thank you.” Alastor quickly took the moment to enter the emporium before Rosie changed her mind.

-----

They entered the staff room and sat down on the couch beside each other. Alastor’s eye twitched ever so slightly as he saw Rosie’s new radio sitting on the coffee table. To him, it was an abomination. How dare someone add a TV screen to a radio? But he couldn’t bring it up now, or he’d lose his chance to mend things with Rosie.

“Say what you have to say now, Alastor,” Rosie began, picking up a cup of coffee she had left so she could answer the door.

Alastor paused. He had a lot he wanted to say. He wanted to give her an explanation on why he left, but even the thought made the invisible chains on his neck squeeze tighter.

“I’m… Sorry, Rosie. I truly am,” he finally managed to say. “I allowed my pride” —that really stung to say out loud— “get to my head and distract me from what actually mattered.”

Rosie listened intently, taking a sip of her coffee. She almost choked on it when Alastor suddenly took one of her hands in both of his.

“You are one of the most important people in my hellish existance. One of my only true friends. Back at the meeting, I did feel remorse. Trust me, I did. But I was unaware how badly my disappearance had affected you, and I responded incorrectly.”

He let go of her hands and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He hated this feeling of vulnerability, he wasn’t used to it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t send you a letter… It’s inexcusable, but it truly did slip my mind. I promise you, from now on, I will keep in touch. Maybe we can go back to having our bi-weekly walks? What do you say?”

Rosie blinked, feeling conflicted. This was a side of him she’d never seen before. She was still upset, of course, an apology won’t fix the years of hurt he caused, but it was a start.

A small smile appeared on her face and she opened her arms, inviting him for a hug. He looked at her, his permanent smile finally reaching his eyes with genuine joy. He hugged her, and she hugged tighter.

“So… Is this forgiveness, my dear?”

“It’s definitely a start…”

“Thank you.”

They broke the hug, and Alastor’s eyes drifted towards the radio on the table. “Now, if I may ask, why did you purchase such an abomination?”

“Alastor.”

"Apologies."

#radiorose #platonic radiorose #alastor and rosie #rosie and alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin rosie #angst #hurt/comfort

[dark-fics-4-you]

Drabble Idea: Rafe being a sorry little bitch after getting high and being abusive to reader. Something like he comes into the room and he asks something along the lines of “Are you mad at me? I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to” and reader is just shook still. Then maybe dubious consent f oral receiving?

Heartless

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, abusive relationship, domestic violence, manipulation, toxic relationship, oral f!recieving

You slammed the door behind you, blinking hot tears out of your eyes. Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to your vanity, drawing your hand close to the cut on your forehead. You touched it delicately, replaying the scene in your head repeatedly like that would help it make sense.

Expectedly, the genuinely concerned conversation you had tried to have about your boyfriend’s drug problems had transformed into a heated argument.

“You can’t control every aspect of my life, Y/N,” Rafe spat at you, anger flashing in his eyes, no doubt further fueled by the coke in his system.

“I’m not trying to control your life Rafe! I’m just trying to make sure you have a life to live! That you don’t throw everything away for some nose candy!” You threw your hands up, exasperated and tired.

This conversation was long overdue, and you had tried putting it off as long as possible, giving him the benefit of the doubt until it was impossible to ignore. He had a problem.

“You don’t understand what it’s like, Y/N-!” Rafe snapped at you. His face was growing red, one of the veins in his neck starting to pop out.

“Oh I don’t understand? You think I don’t have issues I wish I could just block out with drugs? You think that just because you get into fights with your dad that you’re entitled to be a coked out zombie 24/7?” You knew it was a fucked up thing to say, but you really didn’t expect his reaction at all.

Large hands grabbed and pushed at you and before you could register what was happening, you felt your forehead smack against the corner of the dining table, body crumpling beneath you as you fell to the floor.

You looked up at your boyfriend in shock, and he probably looked even more shocked than you did. You pressed your hand to your head, surprised when you felt a wet warmth at your hairline. You pulled your hand away and you realized why the look on Rafe’s face was so scared.

Crimson stained your fingertips.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to do that.” His voice was shaking, frantic, and when he reached down to you, you flinched away.

You looked up at your boyfriend through teary eyes, terrified, before you got up and ran into your shared room.

You pressed the warm washcloth to your head, sniffling as you dabbed the blood away.

A sound from behind you caught your attention, and you looked in the mirror to see Rafe, head hung and an apologetic look in his eyes.

“… Are you mad at me, Y/N?” He quietly asked, voice barely reaching your ears.

You felt a pang in your heart at his regretful tone.

“No,” you choked out meekly. It was true, you weren’t mad at him. You were terrified of him.

“I really didn’t mean to, it’s just- just sometimes i get so mad. And I feel like when you aren’t listening to me, it just makes me even more mad, you know?”

You didn’t know, but you nodded your head, a few tears falling past your lashes as you stared past him.

“Let me make it up to you, Y/N.” Rafe cooed, drawing closer to you, pressing against your back and wrapping one arm around your waist as the other hard found your neck, not squeezing, just resting there to put you on edge.

“Rafe, I really am not in the mood right now-” you gasped when his hand moved to roughly squeeze your breast, fingers teasing your nipples over your shirt and bra.

“Are you sure you’re not in the mood?” He challenged, walking you forward towards the mirror.

“Yes, I’m serious Rafe,” you begged, “Cut it out!” You turned to face him, but he caged you in against the bathroom counter, hands finding your hips and lifting you to sit on the counter before pulling at your shorts.

He kneeled before you as he pulled your shorts down, holding your legs when you tried to kick at him.

You gasped when he buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Your fingers gripped the sides of the countertop, legs shaking when he pushed a finger in and began to curl it inside you. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips when he pressed a second finger into you.

“You know, it’s really hard for you to convince me that you’re that mad at me when I can turn you into such a pathetic mess so easily, princess.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron dubcon #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron fanfic

[imajinxnation]

A request for

Neo Anderson!! x Fem Reader

like a enemies to lovers trope ig

shes apart of the crew and her and Neo never rly go along they have a bonding moment she opens up to him about some traumatic past event they grow closer but didn’t realize someone over heard the person over heard tells everyone she thinks it was Neo she gets mad at him they fight he dose everything to get her to understand it wasn’t him

and in the end they make up ig start a relationship something along those lines

if u can!

Too Far..

Neo (Thomas Anderson) x FEMALE!Reader

SUMMARY // You and Neo have never really gotten along, but that all changes when he finds you crying in your room..

TW // Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

I absolutely LOVE this idea!

Sorry this took so long! Been having writers block!

I don't like what I wrote, but I wanted to finish this anyways

ALL GIFS FOUND ON PINTEREST

The moment I woke up this morning, I knew.. I just knew that it would be an awful day. I woke up in a sweat, having just had a nightmare, my small room on the Nebuchadnezzar not helping and making me feel claustrophobic and panic even more.

I curl my knees up to my chest, hiding my face in them as I tried not to cry, but my tear ducts filled until a droplet of salty water fell, which started to turn into more and more tears, streaming down my cheeks. I let out a choked sob, trying hard to not make too much noise and wake up the people in the rooms beside me.

Apparently I failed at keeping quiet because, not too long after, I hear a metallic knock on my door. I hesitantly rise from my bed quietly and slide open the door a crack only to see The One standing at my door, a slightly annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, so you are awake! Mind telling me what you're doing, making all that noise?" He asks, obviously having been woken up from my strangled sobs.

I reply, too emotional to try and argue, "Sorry, Neo.. I'm just.. not in a great mood right now," I sniff and rub my tear-stained cheeks harshly.

He notices my glazed, reddened eyes and wet cheeks, suddenly feeling a bit concerned instead of annoyed. He opens the door wider and lets himself in, not saying anything. He plops down on my hard mattress, which makes him cringe at how uncomfortable it is.

"Christ, how do you sleep on this thing?" He asks, rubbing his tailbone.

"Barely.. Not everyone gets special treatment, you know?" I hint at the obvious favouritism.

Neo looks away, a slight guilt nawing at him before he looks back at me. He the pats beside him, asking me to sit with him. I stare at the spot beside him for a second before slumping down next to him, head held down.

"What's going on with you, (Y/n)?" He asks, a slight harshness to his tone.

"Nothing.. I just woke up feeling off.." I say, partly telling the truth.

"You know better than to lie to me," Neo sighs, disappointed.

"..I had a nightmare.. about my life when I was still in the Matrix.." I start to open up a bit.

He looks over at me curiously, "What was your life like there?" He asks, sounding genuinely curious about what my life was before being woken up.

I suck in a breath, debating on whether I should tell him about my past. I sigh and just do it, after all, what's the worst that could happen?

"When.. when I was living in the Matrix like the majority of people, I had a good life.. until the end of middle school.." I let out a shakey breath, "That's when things started to go down hill.. I started to notice things, deja vú, inconsistencies in the Matrix, and how cookie cutter a lot of people looked.."

Neo nods, actually listening to me.

"Thought I could confide in my friends.. Turns out I couldn't, because the moment I dropped out of school.. nobody contacted me ever again, unless you count family.. I was the black sheep and it hurt.." Silent tears fall down my face.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up at Neo, an understanding look on his face, nodding at me to keep going as he rubbed my back to try and console me.

"One day, I was going to the library.. but I got jumped by old 'friends'.. The people I had trusted and loved back in school were now totally against me and filled with disgust for me.." I stop, ending my story with a sob.

Neo hesitates a bit before gently hugging me, bringing my face into his chest, letting me cry into it. One hand stroked my hair while the other patted my back.

"I'm sorry that happened to you.. You were brave enough to share how you felt and share your opinions and they rejected you in the worst way possible.. I know all of us here felt estranged in the Matrix.. but none of us ever did what you were able to do.. not even me," Neo confessed.

We stay like this for a long time in silence and a new understanding in each other. What we failed to realize was the sound of boots running away from my door.

Only a day later, word had spread about my past and how I had been discarded by all my friends when I was still linked into the Matrix. The looks of pity and sympathy coming from the others making me feel exposed and like a wild caged animal, being gawked at and stared at with pity I don't want.

Anger boils inside me and I immediately search for Neo, eventually finding him asleep, connected to the Matrix.

"Hey, plug me in, I need to talk to Neo!" I say, anger evident. The control crew member nods hesitantly, unsure. I sit in one of the leathery chairs, feeling like a patient at the dentist. I feel the sharp sting of metal connecting to the port in the back of my neck and connect to the Matrix.

The crew member gets me as close to Neo's location as possible and directs me to where he is. He's in a fuckin' noodle shop.

"We need to talk," I say, tensed.

Neo looks up and a look of surprise crosses his face as he sees me standing in front of him, a sneer on my face. The surprise on his face quickly turns to confusion as I slide into the seat across from him.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here?" He asks, obviously confused.

"Needed to talk with you. Why the fuck did you tell everyone about my previous life!? I trusted you to keep something personal like that to yourself!"

Neo does a double take, shocked at the tone I use with him. His brows furrow and a frustrated look crosses his face.

"What are you talking about? I never told anyone about your Matrix life!" He exclaims.

"Oh bullshit! You're the only person I told my past to, so how is it that the day after I tell you it, everyone is looking at me like I'm a wounded animal that needs help!?" I growl out, tears filling my eyes with frustration.

Neo sighs, seeing my teary eyes and says calmly, "I swear.. I didn't tell anyone. Maybe.. maybe someone overheard. The walls on the Nebuchadnezzar aren't exactly soundproof.." he suggests.

I take a deep breath and think for a moment.

"Yeah.. that's possible, I guess.. but who would do that?" I say to myself, not expecting an answer from Neo.

"Look, you can't do anything about it now. Everything's out in the open already, and I'm sure everyone will go back to normal around you once they realize you don't want sympathy or whatever.." Neo says in a low, soft voice.

"..Yeah, your right.. You know, for being 'The One', you're not very good with people." I point out.

Neo laughs a bit, shaking his head.

"Comfort is not my forté. Now, let's get out of here before an agent sees us," Neo grabs my hand and we wuickly leave the noodle shop, finding a nearby phone to leave the Matrix with.

As we left, I had a feeling in my heart that me and Neo had gotten a lot closer because of this mess.. and maybe that's a good thing.

#keanu reeves #x reader #keanu my beloved #keanu reeves characters #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x reader #neo x reader #neo anderson #neo anderson x reader #thomas anderson #the matrix x reader #the matrix #keanu #the matrix imagine #neo anderson imagine #x female reader #x fem!reader #thomas anderson x reader #the matrix neo #keanuverse

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so sorry if I do it wrong but!! I was wondering if you could write something where you’re at work and end up having to wear a coworkers jacket or something because it’s cold, or you spill a drink etc. And after you go to see Matt and he can smell that it’s someone else’s jacket and gets jealous. (Can smell their scent plus any perfume or cologne they wear) It can be kept as fluff or lead to him doing more to show that yours his and his only 🤭

Idk I feel like he would be the type to be jealous over that stuff, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

hii! don’t worry, you did it perfectly! I love this. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

that’s not my cologne (matt murdock x fem reader)

wc || ~ 0.5k

warnings || none (?) jealousy, but it’s all hidden in playfulness and jokes, so there’s no angst. there is implied smut at the end though, but no details

masterlist + rules

taglist

The clock had struck five, immediately logging off your computer and darting out of your office block, too excited to see Matt. 

“Oh, Dan!” You shout out to your colleague down the hall. “Your jacket. Thank you again.” Smiling friendly as you shrugged off his cardigan to pass it to him.

“No problem, love. I’ve always got a spare one for you.“ He grins, slinging it over his crossbody bag. “Boss man wants me to photocopy these.” Making a laborious groan. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Absolutely, have a good weekend. Thank you again.” 

“Any time, have a good one.”

//

You had finally made it to Matt’s apartment building, bustling though the door to rush up the steps, looking forward to seeing him. Knocking on his door a couple of times, waiting impatiently to be let in. 

“Hi.” You say cutely. 

“Hi.” He grins, matching your excitement.

“I’ve missed you.” Greedily kissing his face.

He parts from you and his face turns deadpan. “What’s that smell?”

“What smell?”

“You smell like a man.”

“Excuse me?” You laugh. “A man? You telling me I stink?” Snickering as you walked into his apartment. 

His head tilts to the side, unamused. “The cologne… that’s not mine.”

“Ohh.” Finally realising what he was talking about. “I borrowed a friend's jacket today.” 

“Why?”

“Uh… because it was cold.” You say slowly, chuckling.

“Why?”

“The AC switch broke, so it was freezing all day. You jealous?” You lightly joke. “Oh Matt, you are.” You tease as you lovingly prod his arm.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Nope.”

Noticing an uneasy emotion on his face, you decide to reassure him rather than tease him any further. “He’s gay, and he’s married, Matt. Dan let me borrow his cardigan because he always has a spare.” You sweetly say.

Just like that, his shoulders loosen like the words you just said melted the tension in them. Was he really jealous?

“You need to shower.” A faint smirk looms behind his deadpan face.

“A shower? You’re not being serious.” You tease.

“Uh yeah, I am. I can’t speak to you when you smell of another man. Shower.” Pointing to the bathroom.

“Oh my goodness, you are.” You snicker.

“I can’t hear you right now. That heinous smell is blocking my ears.” A grin slowly spreading across his lips.

“You are ridiculous.” You laugh, genuinely amused.

“I don’t care, get in there.” Fighting off a smile.

“Only if you join me.” You flirt.

“No.”

“Are you being serious?”

“No.” Breaking his facade to chuckle. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought, come on.” You tease, gently gripping his tie to lead him into the bathroom. “Can’t believe you were jealous… you know I’m all yours right?” You whisper, undressing in front of him. “Show me what you do with things that are yours.” 

“Oh, I will.” Dragging you into the shower with him. “I will.”

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock fem!reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matthew murdock x you #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock blurb

[rainswept]

hihi @kaeyas-beloved !! this was for the secret santa — i’m so sorry it was so late, i had some complications with my health that made it so i was unable to write. i hope you had a great christmas and new years!

blood. childe.

1k words. cw. mentions of drowning/death/violence (in the past)

“One day, I’ll take you to my homeland for winter.”

Nestled in the stomach of the gray patterned bowl Childe holds is a steaming soup, tentacles and crab legs still simmering in a blood red sea.

Beneath the chilling blanket of the abyss he lies, frail and wounded and young. He scrambles to find himself — he hides his throat and bares his teeth — he gains a scar and is sure he’s killed hundreds. With desperation, he lashes out at anything that moves, whether he can see it or not. Sometimes he lands a hit. Sometimes he gets hurt. Sometimes he stumbles in the dark and awaits a blow that never comes.

Garnish and pools of oil bubble up beside it like a delectable hot spring, savory delights wrapped up in little pockets of half-translucent dew.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight. While he can still breathe, blood fills the gaps in remaining senses he has — a metallic taste on his tongue and a sticky thing under his fingernails.

“It snows a lot more than this.”

He cannot feel nor hear a way up, so he goes down.

The darkness settles around him until he no longer has any use for his eyes, and it seeps into mouth and drips down his throat until he can no longer draw breath. Drowning. The sting of his cuts gnaws at his skin and he wraps his fingers tight around the bleeding. Drowning. Drowning. Still drowning.

He sits down on the couch beside you, wood in the fireplace crackling and snapping as he settles. His fingers are bare, free of the gloves that separate him and the blood he spills, and they slip out from beneath the bowl so carefully it barely makes a noise as it settles down onto the wooden coffee table.

He brandishes his sword, spear, claymore, bow. He swings and shoots with a feral vengeance, and he blocks with desperation to protect. One day, he is afraid it will not be enough.

Teucer, Tonia, Anthon — his siblings flash before his eyes. Then you. You, your sweet words and your comforting embrace and your gentle touch as you wash the blood away from his skin. It is washed down the pristine porcelain sink without a second thought, and if a wound is revealed in the process, you bandage it wordlessly. What did he do to deserve that? This he often wonders, though he has never dared to voice it.

Your fingers wrap around his torso, and you place your head against the crook of his neck. His eyelids grow heavy.

People may look at Childe and think, above all else, he is a fighter.

He wouldn’t say they are wrong.

Like melting chocolate wedged between a graham cracker and molten-hot marshmallow — he did always like to make those — he sinks down into your embrace as if it’s the last time he will ever get the chance to.

To be an older sibling, a Harbinger, a lover, is to be a protector. And to protect, most often, you must fight.

He is a fighter — he always has been — that doesn’t change when he dons the codename Childe, or the title Tartaglia, and especially not when he thinks of his family calling out the name “Ajax”. Especially not.

He casts a nostalgic look out of the window. It glitters like forlorn stars scattered about the night sky, hazy memories and long-forgotten childhood dreams that are now realized to never have had a chance to come true.

Drowning.

You pick at your bowl, and he thinks you are humoring him. “Does it, now?”

He laughs. It’s a warm sound, not like the one he makes before a fight, no. It’s genuine, scattered stars in every crack in his voice like that of the ever-burning fireplace in the living room.

“Of course.”

Drowning.

Childe’s grip on his spoon tightens, and his eyes flick to the blooming bouquet, a proud centerpiece on the wooden dining table. He reaches out to adjust one of them that had risen out of the water.

...

Beneath the quelled sky when it’s cold is a myriad of memories, old and new, past, present, and future tangled into a flowering embrace despite the unchanging blanket of snow.

Seeds of hope of all kinds will bud or die, sprout up through the ice as it melts, prove that they are strong. They are steadfast, loyal, and resilient. Like him. Like the Tsaritsa, he hopes. Like his siblings. Like you.

Over and over again, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger had coaxed blood to spill by his hand. He had stolen it from warm bodies and watched as they grew cold.

He holds you closer as he takes a sip of the soup. Here, he is reminded everything he stands for — why he is still here in the first place. The warmth of your hand, the forgiveness of your touch, the light in his siblings eyes that he is making sure does not get stolen from them like it did his.

Blood, pouring from a wound until eyes grow dim and hazy; blood, the family he had and would spill his to protect; blood, carefully encapsulated in safe veins, blushing cheeks, flushed skin. Love. The warmth in his home, the hull of the ship, the blade of the knife, the seed of the flower. The reason why he survived the abyss, and the reason why he survives now. You cleaning his wounds and him making sure you don’t suffer any.

Love is a tender night like this, sipping on specialty soups, curled up in front of a fireplace as a storm rages outside; limbs tangled beneath soft blankets, fleeting kisses filled with affection. He sinks into your embrace and wraps his arms around you, head resting on your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair.

Childe was always devoted to his life, his family, you. Everything he did was to protect something he held dear.

He didn’t regret a thing, for that meant you were safe, and he was too. Here, right now, taking breaths of fresh air one by one. Breathing. For once in his life, his head was above the water, and he wasn’t fighting with every ounce of energy to stay there.

i’m sorry this is quite short, but i hope you liked it regardless! i’m not entirely sure how to write for childe, but i’ve wanted to for a while so i figured this was a good time to seize the opportunity.

#—rainswept. #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #ajax x you #ajax x y/n #wtf is with the harbingers and having way too many names

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Five

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy. Word count: ~2k

Chapter summary: Daemon deals with the fallout of Melessa's discovery. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Header by the insanely talented @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The thought tempts Daemon to go after Melessa, pull her to him and demand that she forgive him. However, it is Rhaenyra’s coronation and it has been shrouded in enough uncertainty and controversy, without her uncle chasing his weeping wife through the Red Keep. The very last thing the beginning of his niece’s reign needed was more gossip.

He sighs, only realising when he looks over his shoulder that the serving girl he’d pulled from the feast is still in the alcove, pressed against the wall, wide eyed and disheveled. Pathetic. He is unsure whether it is a thought he directs towards himself or her.

“Fuck off,” he hisses, not bothering to watch as she smooths her skirts and scurries away.

Leaning against the cool stone of the corridor, Daemon sighs. He does not know how to put this right, apologies have never been his strong suit. He can put together battle strategies for entire armies, cleave his enemies in twain, and rain dragonfire down upon those who oppose him, but his problem solving does extend as far as opening his heart and admitting to his own wrongdoing.

The very thought of going to Melessa and placing himself at her mercy by pleading for her forgiveness terrifies him more than any battle ever could. He owes it to her, though; she has given up so much in his pursuit of her, even more so since they were wed, and in a single misjudged act of foolishness he has made it all seem worthless.

His footsteps feel heavy as he trudges his way up towards their shared quarters, turning over and over in his mind what he might say to her.

I’m sorry.

It was a mistake.

It won’t happen again.

None of it feels good enough. Daemon swallows thickly, his heart pounding, as he pushes open the door, preparing himself to be greeted by the sight of his wife’s mournful hysterics.

He is taken aback when he finds her seated by the window, staring out of it. She’d appear almost serene were it not for the fact that her eyes are rimmed red from crying. She doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Daemon shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. He bows his head, taking a breath, before looking up at Melessa and uttering the first thought that springs to mind.

“Forgive me,” he says softly, looking at her with genuine remorse.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she says flatly, her voice listless. “It was silly of me to assume our marriage was anything more than a political tool for you to ensure Rhaenyra’s place as Queen.”

A pit forms in Daemon’s stomach upon hearing this. He had expected her to scream at him, to be met with heartbroken tears and burning anger, he would have welcomed that. This beaten-down resignation is more than he can handle; surely she does not believe the things she says? He stands there silently, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“You’ve gotten what you needed from our union, and it is childish folly for me to expect you to not want to bed other women,” she continues. “But now you have gotten what you want, I wish to return to Highgarden.”

Bile rises in Daemon’s throat at her admission. He fights the urge to grab her, to shake her and demand that she be angry with him. He doesn’t recognise the broken husk of a woman seated before him. She is lacking in the spirited brightness he has come to adore from his wife. Had his carelessness really snuffed that out?

He opens his mouth to speak, but finds the words won’t come. She beats him to it, dull and monotonous sounding.

“Don’t let me keep you. We can make the necessary arrangements tomorrow. Go back to the celebrations. Give the Queen my apologies for my absence; I am not feeling especially jovial this evening.”

Not knowing what else to do, wordlessly Daemon turns and leaves. His mind races, fear swirling in his gut at how withdrawn Melessa is, unsure of how to coax her back out of the shell she’d retreated into. 

Irritation prickles at him as he strides through Maegor’s Holdfast, back towards the festivities. The very notion of playing at being Hand of the Queen for a feasting hall full of slack jawed halfwits, while his wife slips away from him, seems ridiculous. His jaw clenches as with every step the sounds of merriment get louder.

“There you are,” Rhaenyra calls out to him from across the courtyard.

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your loyal subjects?” Daemon asks, walking to meet her.

“I needed some fresh air,” she says matter-of-factly. “Finished with that poor girl you dragged away earlier?”

Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing in agitation. “You saw that?”

“You’d sat at the table like a petulant child for the entire feast. It was the first time I’d seen you move all evening.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Of course I saw.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “Well, so did my wife.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra raises her eyebrows at this.

“She wants to go back to Highgarden.”

“And you’re going to let her?”

“What choice do I have?” Daemon asks irritably. “I can’t very well chain her up and force her to stay here.”

“You fought so hard to get her. Is she not worth fighting to keep?”

“Of course she is!” he spits, temper flaring at the absurdity of such a question.

“Then show her that,” Rhaenyra responds softly. “Fight for her.”

“Your coronation feast—” he begins.

“—Is almost over,” she interrupts. “I need my Hand’s mind to not be preoccupied while fulfilling his duties. Fix this, so I may have your full attention tomorrow.”

Daemon nods gratefully, walking away with a renewed determination to win back the affections of Melessa.

She has moved from her seat by the window when Daemon returns. He spots her standing at the foot of the bed, folding dresses into a trunk and he cannot help the white hot fury that boils under his skin at the sight of it. She really means to leave him. He cannot bear the thought.

Storming through the apartment, he snatches a gown from her grasp, the fabric tearing audibly as he does so.

It is the first time all day—since she caught him with the serving girl, that is—that her face has shown any visible emotion. Her eyes widen in shock, quickly morphing to anger as she scowls.

“What are you doing?” she cries in an accusatory manner. 

“I could ask the same of you,” Daemon says darkly. “You aren’t going anywhere. Stop behaving like a child!”

“It is not me who is cavorting in hallways with servants. You cannot keep me here as your prisoner!” she shoots back. 

He can tell from the way her voice wobbles that she is about to cry again and his heart aches at the sound, immediately regretting how he has handled the situation.

“Petal,” he pleads, his voice softening, still holding her now ruined dress in his hands. “You are not my prisoner—you are my wife.”

She shakes her head sadly, eyes closing as tears fall from her waterline and roll heavily down her cheeks. “I was an infatuation for you, one that you have grown tired of. Just let me go. Please.”

“You aren’t; I haven’t; I can’t,” he implores desperately, letting the garment he holds drop to the floor to reach for her.

She backs away, sniffling. “You know,” she begins, voice thick and watery. “It is not the utter humiliation of what you did to me that hurts most. It is that I have spent the past half a year trying to be the perfect wife for you and still I am not enough.”

Daemon hates this. Why will she not allow him to touch her? He cannot comfort her, cannot mend the broken pieces if he can’t hold her. He aches to pull her to him, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides as stares at her filled with shame and regret.

“You are enough,” he whispers. “More than I deserve.”

“You never say it back,” Melessa croaks. “Do you love me?”

Daemon balks at this, opening his mouth before clamping it shut again. He’d never uttered those words to anyone, wasn’t even sure he knew what such an emotion was. All he knows is that over the last six months something has grown within him, something dark and urgent that drives him to be with her, as though an invisible string tied his heart to hers. To be by her side was a need, not a mere passing fancy. If that was what love was, then he did indeed feel that.

But he has no idea of how to articulate that to her, how to make her understand that in his own unique way all of his heart belongs to her. So he says nothing, watching as she hiccups a sob before walking to the opposite bedchamber, the one that has remained unoccupied since they arrived back in King’s Landing, and closes the door behind her.

The anger builds quickly in Daemon, his patience threadbare at his inability to speak his feelings coupled with frustration at having made no progress in earning his wife’s forgiveness. With a snarl of fury, he picks up a small wooden stool that has been left discarded by the bed and launches it towards the nearest wall. It breaks apart on impact, clattering noisily to the flagstone floor.

“Fuck!” he shouts, before dropping heavily onto the bed, placing his hands over his face in frustration.

The smell of her clings to the sheets, almond oil and rosewater, maddeningly sweet. For a moment he considers barging into the bedchamber she now occupies and simply taking her by force. She’d have no doubt of his want or love for her if he felt how passionately he needed her. He thinks better of it. If she didn’t wish for him to even take her by the hand, it is doubtful she’d appreciate him rutting into her like an untamed beast.

He sighs. He has everything he has ever wanted, and yet has managed to ruin it. He could never allow himself to just be happy. It reminds him of when he and Viserys were children. They had had family visiting from across the continent who’d brought each of the boys a gift. Daemon had received a wheeled wooden horse, which he’d taken great delight in dragging around the gardens. Viserys had been given a model of a castle. To Daemon, it had appeared that Viserys was having more fun playing with his castle than he was playing with his horse. He’d taken it upon himself to destroy both toys. If he couldn’t achieve that level of happiness, then no one else deserved to have it either. Is that what he’d done to his marriage? Shame wells fiery and acrid within him at the idea.

He doesn’t realise he has fallen asleep, exhausted by the events of the day, until he is awoken by the creaking of Melessa’s chamber door. He sits bolt upright, anticipating the sight of her exiting through the door, but is disappointed and surprised to see it is Maester Orwyle instead.

Daemon stands, blinking back sleep, and stalks towards him. “Why the fuck are you creeping out of my wife’s bedchamber in the middle of the night?” he growls irritably.

Orwyle bows his head apologetically, a hint of fear in his eyes as he regards Daemon, glowering and tightly wound. “Forgive me, your Highness—your lady wife was having trouble sleeping. She requested milk of the poppy to help soothe her. You need not worry; I kept the dosage small, considering her condition.”

“Her condition?” Daemon questions suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Shrinking backwards with a gulp, visibly uncomfortable, Orwyle nods his head. “Y-yes, your Highness. She is with child.”

Daemon feels as though his heart skips a beat, a combination of shock and anger flashing through him in an instant that has him yanking the maester up by his robes. “She’s what?”

#daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon stannies #the rogue prince #prince daemon targaryen #pro daemon targaryen #hotd daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x ofc #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen angst #hotd smut #hotd angst #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryem fan fiction #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fan fic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic

[smok3r7]

One Door Closes & Another One Opens

Joel x OFC!Divorce Lawyer

Explicit, 18+

I Need Help

Main MasterList & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: She’s a divorce attorney and he’s a husband looking for help to save his daughter, and himself, from his gambling addict wife. Renae Russo is a woman who fights for her clients and wins. She’s satisfied with her life and what she does - but she wishes she could have a little more. What happens when Joel Miller becomes her client and an old flame of Renae’s reignites in the same breath?

Chapter Summary: How can a diner affect two peoples lives and the way they live? It’s like the butterfly effect and weird coincidences all wrapped into one, for both Joel and Renae.

Word count: 10.1k

Warnings: Angst, verbal fight

—

Joel can feel the tension in the truck between him and Sarah, it seems every other second he’s glancing over at Sarah next to him in his rear view mirror and he just watches the way her small face contorts, like she’s trying to find a way to talk about it. He can only imagine the questions she has about this morning, or the situation as a whole. But frankly, he’s more worried about his answers to her - how would he explain it in a way she would understand, but without totally degrading Annie?

Because she is still her mom.

His palms can’t help but sweat and constantly re-grip the steering wheel multiple times, and his stomach softly growls but it’s hidden by the country music that flows through the truck. He’s so nervous and the lack of sleep has him feeling even more on edge. He’s never been like this around Sarah - but she’s also never witnessed first hand, or at least to Joel’s knowledge, how bad Annie actually is.

“So, dad,” the sweet angelic voice soothes his ears, but also scares him, “What exactly is going on with mom?”

There it is - the one dreadful question he didn’t want to hear, especially today. Umm, well, he’s trying to think of something, really anything to say to her while he’s focusing on the morning traffic in front of him, only about a block away from her school.

“She just isn’t the same. Did- did I do somethin-“

“No,” he blurts out and turns his head, loud enough to startle her for only a second, and look back at him as he stares into her beautiful doe eyes, “Don’t ever say that alright? Mama’s just got some of her own things she’s gotta sort through - I can’t help her, Grandma ‘n Grandpa can’t help, only she can. It's never your fault, ‘kay?”

Sarah just nods her head and whispers, I love you. Joel can feel the water glaze over his eyes, so he glances back to the driveway that leads to her school, then back to her. “I love you too baby girl. Now,” he clears his throat as he pulls up to the front of the building, puts the truck in park and twists his torso to look at her fully. “I don’t want this mornin’, or the things about Mama, to mess with your head. Go have fun with your friends, learn somethin’ new that you can tell me at dinner t’night, alright? I love you so much, my little princess.”

A genuine smile takes over the meek one she had, and she leaps out of her seat and wraps her arms around Joel’s shoulders and tightly squeezes. You’re the best, she whispers into his neck and he’s somewhat surprised, but he whisks those thoughts away and mindlessly hugs her back.

This is his daughter, and Annie may be her mom, but Joel will be damned if he continues to let her act like this, especially since he knows that it’s starting to affect Sarah.

“Alright, dad,” she laughs, “I’m gonna be late!” Joel lets go of her, sorry sorry kiddo, and watches as she slides over to her door and hops out the truck, but before she closes it she tells him she loves him one more time. Joel blows a kiss to her and waits until she’s in the school to pull away.

Sarah picked out her outfit today and surprisingly, it turned out cute; A simple light purple t-shirt, white capri cargo pants, and her purple and white sneakers. Her gorgeous brown hair was pulled back into a low bun, one of her favorite hairstyles for school.

He can’t help but feel warm and proud about his intelligent, beautiful daughter. He pulls out from the school and continues down the main road to his house and he dreads having to face the reality that waits for him.

—

With his house key in the door knob, Joel takes a deep breath before he twists the key to unlock it and deal with Annie. This is the last time, he mumbles as he pushes the door open and locks it behind him. Deciding to not dwell on this anymore than he has to, he walks down the short hallway that leads to the kitchen where he sets his keys down and grabs cleaning supplies from the cabinet under the sink.

Again, this has become part of his egregious routine and Joel despises it every single time, mainly because he never would’ve guessed this is how his life would’ve turned out to be. He married Annie because he genuinely loved her, and she loved him.

Maybe they were naive to get married only after two years of dating and knowing each other. But Joel felt that she was the love of his life, he was acting like a teenager trapped in a thirty year old body.

Their chemistry was like they were meant to be, Annie completed him in ways he never imagined and he matured a lot in their relationship - more than her it seems now. The sex was nothing Joel expected out of her, it became one of the main reasons he loved her was because of her skills in bed. The way she could take his whole cock in her throat and let him ruin her face how he wanted, had Joel obsessed. A major red flag now that Joel looks back on it. But they were so happy the twelve years before Sarah and the couple years after but Joel’s love for her has vanished completely; all he cares about is Sarah and Tommy.

When Annie was hammered one night about a year ago, she told Joel that she simply fell outta love with him because he gives so much time and attention to Sarah. Joel absolutely lost his mind that day, he came this close to kicking her out then and there but he just packed a bag for Sarah, picked her up from school, and they stayed at Tommy and Maria’s for the weekend.

This has happened more times than he’d like to admit and Joel is not proud of it or himself for allowing it, but he is proud of Sarah and how well she’s been handling herself.

Her grades have never slipped past a B-, she’s never been in detention, she still is the bubbly little girl that Joel remembers, and she’s still very involved with her group of girlfriends - Joel just worries a lot about her, always will. He just prays that it stays that way, even though he knows as she gets to be a teen, she may have some issues with things, in which Joel will be there every step of the way with her.

“Joel?” Annie’s tired voice comes from the living room, “Is that you baby?”

“Yep.” His voice monotone as he stands up with a small plastic bag full of dirty paper towels in one hand and cleaners in the other. “Be there in a minute.” Although Joel wants nothing more than to eat some greasy food and go to sleep - he’s probably accumulated four hours of sleep this whole week - Joel knows that he’s not going to be able to do any of that, this Wednesday is going to kick his ass.

After throwing away the soaked rags away in the trash can that sits behind the garage, he heads back inside, washes his hands, and grabs a small brown wash cloth and runs it under cold water, making sure to ring it out so it’s not sopping wet, otherwise she’ll complain about it dripping down her neck, and he doesn’t wanna hear it.

Joel walks into the living room and spots Annie laying on the brown sectional that’s against the huge front window. The suns blocked by the blackout shades that are partially over the window, a beam of light shines through the sliver in the middle.

“There you are,” Annie purrs, shifting to her side to look at Joel. “Worried me for a second.” He can tell she’s sobered up since he left her in the bedroom over an hour and a half ago. She showered, her damp blonde hair clings to her shoulders and neck, she’s wearing Joel’s gray sweatpants and his Texas Longhorns shirt.

Before he lost his love for her, this would’ve had Joel drooling while crawling to her, then fucking her into oblivion. But now, he has no physical reaction to her anymore, hasn’t for two years. Any time she tries to initiate anything sexual, Joel’s body doesn’t react - April fifth, two-thousand twenty-two was the last time they fucked and there was no attachment from Joel. He only did it to see if the chemistry and spark was still there, which it was not. It’s pretty sad if you really think about it.

Yeah yeah, Joel mumbles as he slightly bends over and sets the washcloth on her forehead while she just stares at him. He can’t help but feel livid about this morning, it’s the latest she’s come back and he can’t stop hearing Sarah’s, dad, on loop. It breaks his heart every time.

“You can’t keep doin’ this Annie.” Joel scolds her as he takes a step back, folding his arms over his puffed chest, “This is not healthy, or safe for you.”

Annie sits up, moving the cloth to the top of her head, and stares back at Joel, her bright blue eyes glowing, he can see the gears turning in her brain. “Wait…what?” Her expression is one that Joel hasn’t seen since she was sober, it’s like she’s actually listening to what he has to say. Which rarely happens anymore.

Now he’s getting angry, because she’s acting like she’s done nothing wrong or that this is all normal - which it’s not. Joel can’t help but scoff at her, “You’re a piece of work, ya’ know that? Did you not hear Sarah this mornin’ when I had to carry your drunk ass to bed?”

“No, I-“

“Didn’t think so.” He turns to walk away, he can’t have this conversation right now because he will snap on her. Then that will be something he will regret.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annie stands up and walks to him, the cool rag being thrown to the floor, “Huh?”

Joel spins around and in seconds in her face as he calmly, but strongly tells her, “I’m filing for divorce ‘n full custody of Sarah. That’s what I mean.”

“You can’t- Joel, no-“ Annie can’t form a sentence, she’s speechless from his threats, which she knows he’ll act on. Joel knows it too and he’s not scared, so he starts to walk away again. But Annie snags his left forearm, forcefully spinning him to face her, the pleading demeanor now forming into an evil one.

“You are not taking my daughter.” She snarls, her eyes never leaving him in a death stare, her body is vibrating from the adrenaline flowing. “Over my dead body, Joel.”

Joel can’t help but smirk at her sudden confidence, even though he knows she somewhat means it, there’s no way she’s gonna stick to it. “You’re already halfway there,” he leans down so he’s inches away from her face and whispers, “Why don’t ya’ go finish the job for me?” He knows he shouldn’t say it, but he can’t help himself - he’s been a doormat for so many years.

Something changes in Annie’s eyes, something dangerous. Joel should’ve seen it coming, but he doesn’t or at least not until it’s too late. Annie winds her right hand back and smacks Joel across the face, her acrylics scraping his cheek and tip of his nose. Fucking asshole, she whispers behind tears filling her eyes. Joel can’t do anything but smirk with his tongue in his cheek as he stands back up and just turns around to leave.

“You know,” he’s about to reach the corner that leads to the garage when he hears it, “A real husband would help his wife, not abandon her when she really needs him.” This punches Joel in the gut more than the slap did, because all he’s done for the past four years is be the husband who takes care of his wife who has an addiction, multiple, that she won’t admit to.

He’s the one who’s given up everything for her, he can’t remember the last time he had fun or a night to himself - his life revolves around Annie. But he has no fight left in him, he wants to give up on this and he has every right to. Joel knows there’s nothing left for him to do or to try to fix - this is the end.

“Same could be said ‘bout the wife.” He mumbles loud enough for her to hear and he sees the vengefulness and pain spread across her face before he continues to leave. Snagging his keys off the counter where he left them, Annie continues to cry and shout at Joel; everything from I’m sorry, to fuck you, Joel, to you’re not taking my daughter, until he slams the door behind him.

Now in his truck, Joel flips between skipping work or sucking it up and going in, but he decides there’s no way he could have a good work day, or even be productive. He’s simply too exhausted to be any kind of help to anyone right now. As he exits the cul de sac and hits a main road, Whitney st, he grabs his phone from the seat next to him and calls Tommy, he knows he’ll understand. Tommy’s the only one who Joel can really talk to about the things going on with Annie, so he knows how bad it is.

After the first four or five rings, he picks up, “Hey Joel, what’s up?” With one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding the phone to his ear, Joel sighs and tells him he’s not gonna make it in today.

“Annie again?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow ‘bout it all.” He sighs, turning down one of the million dirt roads, Cherry Ave, in silence.

“Alright, go get some sleep, big bro. Tell Sarah I said hi for me. ‘Kay?”

Will do, see ya. Joel hangs up and throws his phone back on the leather seat next to him, then moves to turn up the radio so he can mindlessly listen to it.

“There are days every now and again

I pretend I'm okay

But that's not what gets me

What hurts the most

Was being so close”

“Damn song,” he mumbles as he leans to his left and grabs his pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes while listening to the music. He grabs one and lifts it to his lips where it sits between the top and bottom, he flicks his baby blue lighter on and holds the flame on the end of the cigarette, quickly glancing to the road and back while he inhales lightly at the same time, making sure it’s lit. Once he feels the rush of nicotine hit his throat and flow through his chest, and a cloud of white smoke fills the truck and billows out the window, a sense of calmness swarms him from the inside out.

Joel continues to drive aimlessly for the next two hours, losing count of how many cigarettes he smokes, just wishing him and Sarah could just run away and start somewhere else. A place where she could flourish without the fear of her mother, where Joel could be the father he knows Sarah needs. And who knows, maybe even find someone for himself, to be an actual partner.

The dinging of his gas tank brings him back to reality, he glances down and sees the light is on, god damnit. He did not mean to drive that much, he needed this tank to last him till Friday but looks like he’ll have to fill up now and be broke for the rest of the week. Luckily he was on his way back, so he’s close to the city so he can make it to a Speedway that’s less than a couple blocks away.

“Three eighty-six?” He can’t help but laugh in disgust at the ridiculous gas prices as he pulls up to a pump,“What a joke.” Shutting his truck off, he rubs his eyes with his fingertips to help relieve the fuzziness that sits behind them. After recouping himself enough to go inside, he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and checks how much cash he has, pulling out two fifties and six twenties. Not as bad as he thought.

While debating which would be the best financial decision, his stomach growls like a pack of wolves. It hits him that he hasn’t eaten anything - he glances at his wrist watch that reads eleven twenty-two - in about twenty hours and it’s starting to affect him.

Joel remembers Jes’s Diner is only a mile away from here, his favorite place for brunch, which sounds fantastic to him right now. So he decides to use one of the fifties and one of the twenty’s, seventy should get him close to a full tank. So he puts the rest of the cash back in his wallet and hops out his truck to go pay for his gas before he heads to the diner.

—

Renae takes one last puff off her cigarette before she throws it to the sidewalk and smooshes it with her larger part of her heel, squishing it making sure it’s out. She’s meeting up with Gia and Bianca at the same restaurant they always do when they come home, Jes’s Diner, it’s just before noon when she gets there. She feels relaxed mainly because she doesn’t have any appointments until three thirty PM, so she can spend a good chunk of her time with her sister and niece.

The restaurant has an outdoor seating area with multiple large fans on the ceiling which helps to keep the air flowing, and since it’s the middle of May in Austin, it's warm.

“Auntie!” Bianca basically yells and leaves her chair to run to Renae when she spots her about two tables away. “Hi Lovebug!” Renae cheers back as she holds Bianca under her armpits and lifts her up into a tight hug, slightly swinging her small body side to side. I missed you so much, Bianca mumbles into the crook of Renae’s neck, and she tells the girl the same before she walks on over to the round table where Gia sits with rosy cheeks and a warm smile.

The cement causes her white colored heels to take over the slightly enclosed area, if she’s getting looks or stares she doesn’t care. Renae always has heels on her feet - it’s a rare sight for her not to. The only place she doesn’t is at the gym - other than that, you never see her without them. She knows the clicking of them on hard surface floors can annoy or distract a lot of people, but she doesn’t let the opinions of others influence things she loves.

And her main love will always be her heels - next to Bianca and Frankie.

“Alright B, sit down please.” Gia looks up at Bianca, who’s still in Renae’s arms, “You’re gettin’ too big for that, soon you’ll be as tall as Auntie Renae.” She can’t help but laugh as she watches Renae let Bianca down to the floor and turn to face her.

“And hi, Mrs. New York!” Renae smiles and slightly bends over to hug Gia, so she doesn’t have to stand up from her chair. Gia coined that name for herself when she first moved and, when Renae started saying it, it just stuck. So she calls her that every time, it’s even Gia’s contact name in Renae’s phone. Hi baby, Gia hugs her tightly for a moment, then let’s go and let's Renae walk to the other side of the table and sit down.

As she sits down she adjusts the hair clip that holds her vibrant loosely curled hair so it’s off her neck. Even with the fans, the Austin heat is rampant this time of day and year almost unbearable if not taken seriously. Gia always tells Renae she’s crazy for still having her vibrant long, thick hair down or how she wears jeans a lot of the time but Renae has become accustomed to the weather by now, after living in Texas for her whole life.

“So what’s new? Give me all the ‘deets!” Renae questions as she rests her chin in her right palm, while her left hand lays on the table. Bianca’s coloring one of the kid menus that they have here while Gia starts talking about their wonderful little world.

“Well, little miss Bianca here,” she lightly pinches Bianca’s cheek before letting go, “just finished her fifth grade class and will be at the middle school next year!” Renae looks over to her and she can’t help but grin from ear to ear about her niece. Look at you lovebug, she raises her left hand causing her jumble of thin gold bracelets to slide down her arm, for a high five and Bianca returns with a slap. She then goes right back to her coloring and not really paying attention to the conversation between Gia and Renae.

“Hi, welcome to Jes’s! I’m Ariana and I’ll be your server today. What drinks can I start you beautiful ladies with?” The cheery waitress asks as stands between you and Gia with her small notepad and pen.

“Chocolate milk, please!” Bianca tells her, lifting her eyes off her menu for a second before going back to it. Alrighty, miss? Ariana nods her head towards Gia. Just a water with a lemon, thank you. Renae’s thrown off by her request, usually the two of them would get the bottomless mimosas. She cocks her head to the side at Gia, who’s now trying to avoid eye contact.

“And for you miss?”

“Uh, I’ll do a mimosa, please.”

“Perfect, I’ll be right back with those for you guys!” Then she’s off to retrieve their drinks.

“Just water? What is goin’ on?” Renae can’t help herself, she’s gotta know if something is up because the only time Gia will order only a water is when-

“Wait- are you pregnant?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out as loud as she did. Gia can’t help but laugh and nod her head at Renae’s expression. Oh my god, Renae squeals as she scoots her chair back enough for her to stand up and slide over to the other side of the table where Gia is.

Gia stands up and Renae is finally able to see the medium sized bump that she’s been hiding. “Holy fuck- congratulations!” Renae says in pure love and shock as she hugs her younger sister, “What are you having?” Renae can't get the words out fast enough before she proceeds to pay attention to her bump. Hey, little thing in there, she whispers as she lightly holds her hands over the sundress that covers her sister's growing belly.

“We’re not sure, so we decided we wanted to find out in the delivery room. Robert is excited, he’s gone out and gotten piles and piles of things for the baby - a mix of boy things, girl things, and neutral things. I almost feel like he’s more excited than I am,” Gia laughs before Renae hugs her for the last time before returning to her seat.

“How do you feel, lovebug?” Renae asks Bianca, as she dabs her waterline with the napkin, trying her best to not ruin her makeup. I can't wait to be a big sister, I’m gonna be just like you auntie! The three of them giggle amongst themselves as Ariana comes back with their drinks.

“Are we ready to order or do we need a couple more minutes?” She asks with her animated hands and voice, the three of them look at each other and agree they're ready. Bianca orders first, followed by Gia, and then Renae. Ariana tells them it should be out soon and to just wave for her if they need anything until then.

Gia and Renae get back to chatting about Gia’s life in New York and with the new baby on the way. Renae is ecstatic for the both of them; but that hidden jealousy creeps up on her even though Gia and Robert totally deserve this. She just wishes those kinds of life changing experiences would happen to her before they did with Gia, or even in Renae’s life at all.

Maybe it’s an older sister thing. Always wanting to be the first to do something special, which she did; Renae was the first one in the family to get a college degree and to become an extremely successful woman, a lawyer even. She’s highly proud of herself for believing she could do it, but there’s still something missing and with Gia having it all, it hits Renae directly and hard. But after really thinking about what exactly that something is, she gets it.

Love.

“I have to pee, I'll be right back. B, do you have to go?” Gia asks her daughter, who agrees and goes along. Renae’s left by herself, with her second mimosa in hand, she decides to chug it so she can get a little buzz to take the edge off. She wasn’t expecting to hear this wonderful news from Gia but something about it just hurts Renae’s heart.

When she swallows the last bit of the mixture of orange juice and champagne, she spots this handsome older looking man on the other side of the outdoor patio, seated and eating by himself.

The man looks disheveled, but in a hot way, and Renae feels her heart skip. His hair is curly, but messy, she wonders if the grays she observes are natural, or from a source of stress - maybe a mix of both. What really convinces her is the scraggly beard that also has grays throughout. His age lines prove her point more. The two scratch lines on the tip of his large nose catches her off guard just a bit, she’s not sure what to make of them. His bulky arms stretch out the fabric of his soft dark shirt, she can visibly see the sweat stains that are forming in his armpits while he cuts his food up and brings it to his mouth.

Renae can't stop staring. Her light green eyes won’t leave the man that sits on the other end of the restaurant, who’s simply eating. There’s just something about him that has her feeling foggy and dazed, maybe it’s the way his sharp jaw moves as he chews or the way his large hands grip his silverware and wrap around the handle of the coffee mug making them look like they’re meant for a mouse to use.

Who are you? she whispers to herself right before Gia and Bianca return from the bathroom. At the same time Ariana comes back with a tray that holds three different plates of food that is steaming hot.

—

Joel’s been to Jes’s Diner many times over the course of his life, so much that he doesn’t need to look at the menu. He gets the same thing every time; An omelet with all the fixings, a side of potatoes, two over-easy eggs, and a small side of bacon.

”No Sarah today?” Polly, the forty year old waitress asks, as she pours the black coffee into the mug that’s on the table. Polly and Joel were neighbors growing up, she was like one of the guys. So whenever Joel comes in, she gets his order.

“At school. It’s her last week as a fifth grader ‘n I don’t like it. Not ready for her to grow up ‘n leave.” He states as he grabs a packet of sugar and opens it, pouring it slowly, then picking up the silver spoon to stir the mixture. “It’s not easy, but you got this. I’m sure about it.” She chimes, trying to perk him up even just a little.

Thank you, he puts a weak smile on his face as he takes a sip of the steaming coffee, wake me up just a little bit, he thinks to himself. “I’ll be back with your food, dear.” He nods and thanks her again, taking another sip trying to jump start his head for the second time since Annie came home this morning.

While he waits for his food he does a quick overview of the patio; ten large round metal tables spaced out and about 8 of them are filled with small groups of families or women chatting amongst themselves. Then he spots her. This woman is stunning, even though his view is somewhat obstructed because of the other woman and young girl with their backs to Joel.

Her vibrant orange hair seems like it’s clipped back, but a few pieces hang in front and on the side of her face. Joel can tell she’s younger by the way she maintains herself, her eyebrows are thin but arched and her lips plump with a light red tint to them. Her skin is tan, like she was just at the beach or somewhere similar, strong thin tan lines from a bikini lace her skin. The way her eyes light up and her smile gleams in the conversation she’s having has Joel almost drooling into his coffee.

Her black tank top sticks to her skin perfectly, like it was made for her, causing her cleavage to spill out a little. He leans back in his chair a bit so he can catch a glimpse of her legs and he has to stop himself before he gets caught; light washed jeans that hug her waist, thick thighs, and calves perfectly.

Exactly his type.

Joel feels his cock grow in his pants as he continues to watch her. He shifts from in his seat and his belt buckle to try to relieve himself, then shifts his eyes back to his Home Screen on his phone that sits flat on his table, trying to think of anything other than this woman that has him feeling like a creep.

“Omelet, potatoes, eggs, and bacon for you, sir!” Polly comes back to the table and sets down his couple plates of hot food, his stomach grumbles again. Joel clears his throat and thanks her again and she’s off to work other tables.

Joel instantly dives into his omelet, eating like someone who hasn’t eaten in days - which he kind of understands, to an extent. Hopefully he won’t have to feel that way anymore, which brings him back to his fight with Annie and the divorce. He starts building a quick checklist of things that are his; The house, his truck and her car, has a full time job, all the bills are in his name - even her phone bill - and still has plenty of time for his daughter.

He shouldn’t have much of a hard time getting what he wants out of this situation, the only thing he could see is Annie trying to come after Sarah. Which Joel has a reasonable concern about because he knows first hand how bad her addictions are and that she has shown no interest whatsoever in trying to better herself. She’s simply not mentally competent to be a parent to Sarah, not even the slightest.

Joel has given her chance after chance to get help and she denies it each time. Says she’s gonna do better and actually try, but that never lasts more than two weeks, at most.

After two hours of breaking down everything and eating about ninety percent of his food, he’s finished everything but his couple strips of bacon that are left. He spots Polly walking his way so he stacks up the few plates and silverware he used and slides them to the edge of the table for her.

“Thank you, baby, you treat me so well,” she blushes, “but I wanna ask, everythin’ okay?” She points to her nose, suggesting what happened to Joel. He’s quick to dismiss it, Tommy’s kitten got me yesterday, he knows it comes off as a lie but he’s not ready to talk about his failed marriage with people. “Damn cats,” she fake laughs, catching onto his subtle warnings, “Well, here’s your check, just go up to Ben in the front and he’ll take care of you! Tell Sarah I say hi and I miss her dearly!”

“I will, dear, hope you have a good rest of ya’ day.” Joel nods his head and hands her two twenties before she picks up the dishes, you’re too kind, she smiles then starts her clean up process and she’s gone.

But before Joel stands up out of his chair he turns his head and looks for the gorgeous redhead from before, but he’s not prepared for how close she is to him. She’s a few feet away from him, her and the two others she was with are walking to the front door but they pass his table.

She’s even more beautiful in front of him; she looks to be around Joel’s height, five ten-ish, the heels make it difficult to tell. The sight of her under the table before was an absolute understatement of how she actually looks, her ass and thighs look like they could suffocate Joel - in the best way - and he can’t help but melt at the sight of her belly not being flat, she looks healthy. Proportional to her body type. Far too many women don’t have the love handles that Joel loves to grip or the plush skin he can bite into - his cock twitches again, making Joel incredibly aware of the situation.

Just wanna tear her ass apart, fuck her until she’s pleading for me to stop. Mhmm. Wonder if she likes it rough? Or if she’s a sweet little thing, who doesn’t have much experience… ‘n will let me show her a good time.

It’s quick, maybe three seconds but it feels like eternity the way they stare into one another. He’s infatuated with her and he hasn’t even spoken to her. Joel and her locked eyes, he memorizes the color; forest green with a hint of brown in the middle. He’s hit with the scent of vanilla, jasmine, and a faint smell of cigarettes, a smell that he would love to come home to everyday and take over the smell of his sawdust and sweat.

Instantly he can feel his cheeks warm and his lips curve into a dumb smile, and to his shock, she does the same thing - then she’s around the corner and gone, like an apparition.

Joel shakes his head twice, what am I doin’? He waits a minute or two for his dick to calm down, so he doesn’t make a fool outta himself, what is goin’ on? Joel can’t remember the last time he felt like this. It’s not like he doesn’t get the random moms of the neighborhood or in the PTA that flirt with him and try to be extra friendly. They’re nice and all, but he’s never been attracted to anyone other than Annie and if it wasn’t her, it wasn’t anyone.

After about five minutes of him yelling at himself in his head, he stands up and heads towards the front to pay, leaving him only eighty bucks left for the week, and heads back to his house.

Now back in his truck, only about ten minutes away from his shell of a home, he’s now back in his head about what to do. He figures the best thing tonight is to grab Sarah from school and head straight to Tommy’s. He wants to avoid as much trouble as possible because he hasn’t told Sarah anything about his decision, he just hopes he can do it before Annie manipulates the whole thing like she always does.

Pulling into the garage, he notices Annie’s Toyota gone, thank fuck. Joel for the second time today feels totally relaxed, parks his truck, takes the key out of the ignition and heads inside to shower and pack for him and Sarah. He wishes he didn’t have to do this, but he knows it’s the only way to stay separated from her because she won’t leave when asked to. That’s when the real problems begin.

As he walks into his house he’s instantly confronted with the smell of weed, it smells like it could be coating the walls. Joel never understood why she smoked in the house when they have a balcony from their bedroom and a back patio off of the kitchen. Joel doesn’t have a problem with weed, he smokes more than most people know, but he absolutely despises when Annie smokes in the house. It takes forever to get the smell out of the rooms and furniture, clothes even.

A part of him feels like she does it on purpose, because she knows that Joel is going to take care of it before Sarah gets home. So it’s almost like her form of punishment for whatever Joel did is response to her bullshit behavior.

“So much for a shower,” he grunts and begins opening all the windows and doors that have screens in them to avoid bugs getting in. He turns on any and all ceiling fans, lights some incense, and begins wiping down countertops in the kitchen - where he found his rolling tray and his weed, not hers of course.

About twenty minutes later, Joel’s alarm starts blaring on his cell phone in his back pocket, causing him to jump and drop the towel he was ringing out in the sink. He pulls it out and hits the stop button and checks the time. Two fifty five PM it says, informing him that he’s got thirty minutes to get to Sarah’s school. It usually takes at least twenty-five to get there from any of his job sites, so he gives himself plenty of time. But from the house the school is no longer than ten minutes away, which is nice, one of the main reasons why Joel picked the school - other than it’s the number one public school is his county.

Shit. He’s still gotta pick up around here and pack up her things, he really doesn’t want to come back later on. He needs to get outta here, preferably sooner than later. After double checking the house smells clean, closing all the windows and doors, he goes into Sarah’s room, which thankfully her door was shut and the only room that didn’t reek.

Joel can’t help but release a heavy breath and lean all his weight on the door, bringing his dry hands to his face and massaging his whole face in distress. He’s hit his breaking point; the lack of sleep, aggravation, disappointment, and sorrow that seep out of his skin and soul are escaping the strong man act he has to maintain.

He starts to weep into his hands as he holds himself up - he refuses to sink to the floor, he can’t bring himself to do it without feeling like a chump. Mainly because he’s breaking down in his ten year old daughter's bedroom. He’s had to keep a secret life for so long to other people, they just don’t know how bad it really is. He’s been through so much shit with Annie these past few years and he hasn’t asked for help, even though it’s been offered by Tommy and some of Annie’s friends who have come to Joel.

It used to mainly be that Joel was ashamed that he found himself and his daughter in this situation, and he didn’t want people to know his business. But now, he doesn’t care about that. He cares for Sarah and making sure she’s okay, that’s all that he needs to worry about right now.

He sighs, wiping away the tears he let slip through the cracks, and pushes himself off the door so he can grab his daughter's things. He grabs her empty soccer bag, sets it on her lavender purple bedding, and turns to her dresser and begins to grab clothes; shorts, shirts, leggings, socks, underwear, and her bathing suit. He slides over to her bathroom and grabs her toiletries that she has in a little bag in a drawer, bringing it over to the bag and zipping it up.

Joel figures they’ll stay at Tommy’s the rest of the week and all weekend. He just needs to leave the house, it’s suffocating for him to be here, too many memories - bad ones - for him to enjoy being here. Even though he’s by himself.

Takes him a shorter time to pack; his toiletries, work clothes, comfy clothes, and his bathing suit - it’s all he needs. With Sarah’s bag in one hand and his on his shoulder, he jogs down the stairs and moves to snag his keys so he can leave.

A sense of security takes over. Just knowing that he told Annie what he’s planning on doing and that Sarah is with him and not her, it’s relieving. He doesn’t have to worry about Sarah wanting to see Annie or asking questions about why, she already knows, most of it not all. He heads out to his truck and he’s on the way to grab Sarah.

With fifteen minutes to spare, he sits in the pickup line that’s full of a variety of trucks and cars waiting for their kid to come tiredly walking out. While waiting for her Joel decides to get a jump start and at least take a look online for some kind of divorce lawyer. If he’s gonna do it, he might as well start now. No backing out now.

Lawyers near me, he mumbles as he types into google, he has to scroll twice until a name sticks out to him. Without reading anything he clicks on R&R Law Firm, and he’s shocked when he sees a picture of two women and the one with red hair sticks out. It then clicks, that’s the woman from the diner.

Renae Russo.

—

Right after brunch, Renae took Gia and Bianca back to her apartment where they’ll be staying until Sunday afternoon. They’ve stayed at her place numerous times before so they know to make the place their own, and now with Frankie there Bianca has a little friend.

Renae has enough time to change out of her casual clothes and into her skin tight black dress, that covers her chest and goes to her knees, with matching black heels. She lets her curls fall from her hair clip as she teases the roots of her hair, creating volume and letting the curls loose; it’s a cute, messy but natural looking style that suits her perfectly.

“I’ll be back no later than six-thirty, love you guys!” She tells her sister and niece before she’s out the door and walking to her BMW. Shockingly, the weather calmed down a bit, it can’t be any hotter than seventy-eight or nine - way cooler than the ninety degrees it was earlier.

Traffic isn’t terrible, yet. She’s sure on her way home, it’ll be awful. It always seems like she gets caught in the worst traffic on the way home. She just can’t seem to find the right way back, she thought after ten years she would be a pro. But guess not.

Searchin’ kisses, the man she misses, the man that he longs to be.

Renae sings along to the one and only Amy Whinehouse, her favorite artist of all time. That’s her girl. It was her first concert at sixteen and Renae has been in love with her ever since then. She knows all Amy’s songs and has been to fifty percent of her concerts. Renae actually made it to her last show in twenty-eleven in Serbia, and we all know how that turned out. It was truly heartbreaking for Renae to witness and listen to, live.

So he tries to pacify her, cause what’s inside her never dies.

Suddenly her phone starts vibrating in her purse that’s sitting in her passenger seat, since she’s at a red light she reaches over and grabs it. Now more of a mumble than actually singing, she reads the name on her screen and she can’t help but smile. Her cheeks turn redder and redder, she can’t help herself from slightly biting her lip as she stares at the ten letter name.

Dominic Amaro</3

Renae’s favorite and most recent ex, the one that she just can’t let go of, but knows that she ultimately has to. After two years of dating, he had to move back to Italy to take care of his mother who became extremely ill and help with his two younger siblings, and although Renae understood completely, it doesn’t mean she wasn’t hurt by it. She saw herself marrying him, even having kids. She thought he was the one, but she was wrong.

But even after breaking up three years ago, they randomly call each other and will chat about anything and everything. Sometimes leading into phone sex… Or, quite often, if she’s honest. It’s one of the highest reasons why Renae hasn’t lost her mind completely. Dominic has the voice of an Italian man - that of a gentleman, not a mobster - his octave is low but his accent is smooth, almost like an Idris Elba, but Italian.

The traffic light switches to green as she hits the green accept button, raising the phone to her right ear as she manages to fly towards her job. Hi Dominic, she purrs with one hand on the wheel and the other on her phone, anticipating his smooth voice.

“Hi amore mio, how are you?” His voice is relaxed and Renae can tell he’s had a couple drinks, his accent is loose, not as strong as sober Dominic.

This kind of irritates her, but also not, because he can’t hold his liquor and that’s usually when a lot of their fights start, and Renae does not want to do that right now. If she was at home, she would absolutely rip into him and let him fight back - then fuck herself with her fingers while he talks her through it and strokes himself to the sound of her arousal and her deep moans.

Renae chuckles at his words as she pulls into the parking garage of her building, “Things are goin’ well, work has been busy and Gia came into town for this weekend. So I’ve been pretty happy.” She confesses, pulling into a parking spot and turning her car off, throwing her keys into her lap.

“Va meglio?” Are things getting better? Last Renae knew, Concetta had liver and kidney failure, but that was a couple months ago by now.

Before he says anything, she hears him heavily sigh and take a sip of whatever alcohol his choice is. That’s not a good sign, she mentally says while she quickly pulls her phone from her ear and looks at the time. Three twenty five. Fuck me, she mutters. Raising the phone to her ear again she hears him mumble something. What, baby? she asks him with sincerity.

She hates that she’ll have to shorten the conversation because from the context clues she’s picking up, this isn’t going to be good news. But Renae always puts her work first, which might be why she messes things up for herself - like marriage or kids. It’s just how she lives her life right now and she’s content in living with it, until otherwise she’s going to continue living this way.

To be less of an asshole than she already is, she lets Dominic vent about his mother and how she only has a little less than a year to live, and how his younger siblings are rays of sunshine but he feels terrible for them because they’re so young. Renae can’t help but feel her stomach tie into knots at the news while she walks through the parking garage and waits in the elevator. She met Concetta once when she came and visited Texas for a month, the sweetest little Italian woman ever - feisty too, Renae and her were two peas in a pod really. So even though she doesn’t have much to go on about her, Renae still feels awful for Dominic because no one, especially him, deserves to go through anything remotely similar.

“Amore,” she drags out, leaning her ass against the back wall of the elevator, “I’m sorry. I mean like, Damn- I wish you and your family didn’t have to go through this.”

“Prego, um- but the real reason I called is cause, uh“ Renae can tell he’s having a hard time getting his words across, she’s not sure if the language barrier or if he’s just struggling. Dominic’s English isn’t bad by any means, but Renae can tell after he moved back to Italy, he’s reverted back to speaking Italian all the time because of the way he speaks.

She’s now out of the elevator and on her office floor, waiting to walk into the long hallway that leads to her destination. Since she knows her office is occupied, she decides to finish her phone call. It's just something personal that she doesn’t want people to know about. Gia doesn’t even know that she’s still in contact with Dominic, not because Gia would be disappointed about it but just because Renae doesn’t want to have to explain any of this to anyone.

Another big reason she doesn’t want to bring it up is because she doesn’t even know how to break it down to herself. Renae has zero idea of what to make of the situation-ship with Dominic and she hasn’t needed a reason to. As far as she’s concerned, Dominic is just another man that she can’t let go of and she feels like he knows it.

She checks the clock on her phone one last time and she’s two minutes from being late, but there’s also no way she can just hang up on him, even if he understands that she has a client. Renae can’t help herself, she still loves him, or at least thinks she does.

“In a month I’m coming to Texas for a couple days-“

“You can stay with me!” she blurts out, and she’s not sure why she says it. Maybe it’s the desperation for some touch, a familiar one, or it’s the empathy in her that has made her feel for him. “Just send me your flight information and I’ll grab you and give you a place to stay. ‘Kay?”

A second of silence comes from the other end of the phone before he coo’s, “è così difficile non amarti…thank you.” It’s so hard not to love you.

This hits Renae directly in the heart, hard. She wishes she could jump through her phone and hug and kiss Dominic, but she can’t. This thirty-five year old man has her wishing she never lived in Texas and met Dominic in Italy, just living their happiest lives together.

“Well,” she bites her bottom lip again in a poor attempt to hide her smile, “you don’t make it easy yourself, Dominic.”

With both her shoulders occupied with bag straps, she leans her back against the wall outside two wooden doors, and stares at her pointy black heels. She hears a tiny chuckle leave his lips, she can visualize the slight pinkness that overgrows his face - much like herself.

Suddenly Rachel Yonkers - the other half of R&R Law Firm - walks out of the double doors. Causing Renae’s attention to come back full force and on her as she says, I’m headin’ out for lunch, see ya’ in a bit.

Slightly pulling the phone away from her mouth she responds, enjoy, as she smiles and waves her free hand. After the elevator doors close on Rachel, Renae’s attention is back on Dominic who correctly guesses she’s at work and then lets her go.

“Ciao, my love.”

“Ciao, Dominic.”

She hangs up and gently throws her head back until she rests on the wall with her eyes closed. What am I doing? This is gonna ruin me. He’s gonna ruin me forever. Somehow, she stops herself from falling down yet another spiral.

Throwing her phone into her purse, she takes a deep breath as she stands herself up, slightly shaking her whole body to get rid of the jitters that flow through her entire nervous system. Smoothing the sides of her black cotton dress, then swiping a strand of thick hair on her left side behind her ear, her fingers drag along the shape of her medium size hoops that hang from her ears, before walking through the double doors.

“Hi, Riley!” She chirps as she struts through the lobby of her office, head on to her assistant who’s behind her desk. Riley is fresh out of college, she has her criminal justice degree and is currently studying for her law degree - so she’s been with Renae for the past year and she told Riley this can be a permanent job for her.

“Afternoon, Ms. Russo. Jackie Cora is waiting for you!” She informs Renae as she staples a stack of papers together, setting them down on a pile.

Awesome, thank you, Renae smiles as she adjusts her black Micheal Kors purse that hangs on one shoulder and her laptop bag that hangs on the other. Her three thirty appointment is with Jackie Cora, who wants to file a PPO on her ex husband, Charlie Frey. He won’t stop harassing her with phone calls and emails about wanting to try again with her or come back to get some of his things, even though they aren’t there anymore.

Police can’t do anything other than tell him to leave while they’re present because there’s nothing legally they can do. But he hasn’t stopped since the divorce which was 5 months ago, and Renae was the one who did their divorce, so she knows how dirty and hasty Charlie is.

“Hi Jackie!” Renae chirps as she enters her office and walks to Jackie who’s sitting on the opposite side of her desk. Jackie stands up and shakes Renae’s hand, returning to welcome, then sitting down as she begins to divulge into the things that have been happening and what she wants done about it.

—

Staring at the printer, Renae’s right hand sprawls on the counter and her pointer finger taps impatiently, her nails causing a tink tink noise that echoes through her office. She glances away from the stack of papers that are slowly piling, to the clock above her and it’s been two hours since her and Jackie Cora have been together. She sighs as she goes back to the almost dead printer and she only needs one more page, which thankfully comes out with no issues.

“Here we go,” she announces as she grabs the stack of papers and turns around to bring them to Jackie. Who sits at the table surrounded by two large envelopes, her and Renae’s laptop, and Renae’s notes. “The last of your copy of things. This one is the letter that you’ll read in court on the thirtieth, so two weeks from today.”

Renae grabs the last envelope and seals the papers, then hands it over to Jackie who then collects her belongings putting them in her large tote bag. “Thank you so much Ms. Russo, god.” She stands up, her long brown hair thrown behind her shoulder as she steps to Renae and hugs her, which Renae returns warmly. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Please call me if anything escalates, please.”

After a few minutes of back and forth farewells, Renae is left alone in her office. She can finally relax, she did not realize how bad Jackie’s situation actually was. The amount of text messages and calls that she had printed out for evidence was staggering, Renae has never dealt with anything quite like this. But she has no doubt in her ability, that she’ll be able to help Jackie out - if anything it should be easy.

“Fuck, man,” she groans, throwing her curls up in a messy bun that sits on top of her head with loose strands all over - it’s more of a real messy bun than the cute, intentionally messy kind. She digs through her purse that sits underneath her desk - I need a cigarette after that fuckin’ debacle, aha - she feels the box with her finger tips and quickly snags them out.

Her mood swings instantly as she sees her Marlboro Reds in her hands. She’s not proud of it but her cigarettes are her anchors in life; always there when she needs them to. But she’s not a crazy smoker, a pack will last her four to five days a week sometimes. It’s something that works to take the edge of just a little while.

Which is exactly what she craves right now.

Phone in one hand, Marlboro Reds in the other, Renae struts to her door but just before she pulls her glass door open. Her phone on her desk rings. Motherfucker- she mumbles as she hangs her head down while shaking her head, every goddamn time.

It takes her a second before she commits to turning around and answering her phone as she plops down in her office chair. Renae Russo, she forces herself to sound light and cheery, because work comes before cigs.

“You have a call on line two, saying he wants to talk to you specifically,” Riley tells Renae, “I don’t recognize the voice at all.”

“Hmm, okay thank you, hon’.” Renae doesn’t waste any time. She’s quick to switch lines, putting the phone on speaker so she can move around freely without the problem of the cord. Pushing herself out of her chair, she stands up and leans over her desk just enough so her hands support upper body, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Good evening, I’m Renae Russo and who do I have the pleasure of speaking to right now?” Even with her voice forced, she still genuinely wants to help whoever this person is - they just happened to catch Renae at a bad time. It’s a good five seconds of silence from her black phone that she now stares at from her position.

She knows some people have a hard time reaching out to divorce lawyers, which is why she gives them a chance. Uhh, he starts before he clears his throat, Renae can hear a faint mumbling that somewhat sounds like encouragement to continue.

“Hi Ms. Russo, um. I’m Joel Miller n’ I wanna- well, need to file divorce papers against my wife. Shit, ex-wife I guess now.”

Renae is trying her best to pay attention to what Joel just said because of the way his voice flows so effortlessly, but has much effect. Most southern accents sound the same to Renae at this point, she hears it all day long, she’s gotten so good that she can guess some towns or parts of the state based on their accents alone. However she’s stuck on his, there’s something about his that has her feeling gooey and mushy on the inside. Enough for her to have to sit back in her chair, leaning back just a bit as rests her elbows on the arms of the chair and she intertwines her fingers on her belly. Trying to contain herself and hide the butterflies that dare to escape.

“‘n I need to get full custody of my ten year old daughter.”

Her stomach drops and her nerves grow larger.

“Well, Mr. Miller,” she charms, leaning forward to grab a pen and a sticky note, “It’s a good thing you called me.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel x oc #joel and sarah #joel the last of us #joel tlou #daddy joel #tlou joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #fluff #joel miller fluff #eventual smut #ANGST