#like. shes got severe 'no one has ever done it like me. i am the weirdest girl at the party' syndrome | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atticrissfinch · 11 months

Text

Ruined

Part 2 to Gimme What I What: A Fic In Texts

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader summary: when you and joel meet for the first time, the awkward date definitely ends up being worth it warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, brief implication of sarah death, dom/brattamer!joel, age gap (Joel is 56, reader is 25), brief mentions of alcohol consumption, dirty talk (joel has a filthy mouth i’m so sorry), daddy!kink, praise!kink, degradation!kink, slight humiliation!kink, slight pain!kink, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, slapping, choking, spitting, ball-sucking, spanking, light hair pulling, light restraint, unprotected piv, creampie, a splash of innocence!kink for funsies, pet names/degrading terms (darlin’, babygirl, pretty girl, whore, slut, bitch, etc). reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab. probably more than this honestly just fucking everything, joel got v carried away… word count: ~9.2k | ao3 a/n: thank you all so much for your love on part 1!! it was way more than i ever expected for my first fic in the fandom, so i appreciate it so much. these two definitely got away from me a bit but joel gets what joel wants and i am not one to deny him. I highly recommend reading part 1 prior to this. also no beta so pls forgive any mistakes we simply don't see them.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

Joel is half-tempted to down a whiskey before he leaves for the restaurant, but thinks better of it. He has never been so goddamn nervous. Not on his first date with his ex-wife, not his first official project of his brand new business, not even the day Sarah was born.

After his rather indecent text exchange with you, his brain was off to the races. He didn’t want to come off as overbearing or desperate, but damn if he couldn’t get you off of his mind.

He lasted three days before he texted again.

[7:34 PM] Joel: Would you allow me to treat you like a proper gentleman should have done first and take you to dinner on Saturday?

[7:36 PM] You: Can’t stop thinking about me, huh? 😏

[7:36 PM] Joel: I’m a lonely old man. Humor me.

[7:37 PM] You: I think you misspelled “horny” 😝

[7:38 PM] Joel: Hey. A man can be two things. I can be lonely and horny.

[7:38 PM] Joel: But the two things I prefer to be are a Southern gentleman and a depraved degenerate.

[7:38 PM] Joel: Ideally on the same night.

[7:39 PM] Joel: So let me get dressed up. And then after maybe you’ll let me pull YOUR dress up 😉

[7:40 PM] You: Smooth

[7:40 PM] You: Who says I’ll be wearing a dress?

[7:41 PM] Joel: Again, I ask. Humor me.

[7:41 PM] Joel: 7 PM, Olivio’s?

[7:43 PM] You: I’ll be the one in the dress

It’s true, he hadn’t been on a date in years. Over a decade, if he’s really counting. After everything that happened with his ex and Sarah…well, he’d spent a lot of time picking up his own pieces and attempting to weld them back together with nothing but a heat gun and several bottles of whiskey. And a lot of meaningless sex.

Tommy had helped, but he had his own life and family to care for. Joel does like Maria, even if she is a bit tender-footed with him most of the time. And damn it, does he love his niece. But sometimes when he looks at that rambunctious, golden-hearted tornado, he feels like his stomach has suddenly taken residency in his throat. She’s got a lot of Tommy’s features. Many of which are also Joel’s features.

And many of which were also Sarah’s.

Joel can’t quite put his finger on the reason he asks you out on a date. He is certainly no stranger to one-night-stands or fuck buddies. There was something about the way you seemed to completely disarm him without even trying. The way you made him laugh right off the bat. The way you responded so readily to his brand of dirty talk.

Shit, it also helps that you might be the most gorgeous young woman he’s seen in a long time. He may be old, but he is definitely not blind. If you like experienced older men, he’s got an extraordinarily willing one for you right here. He sincerely hopes you’re just as beautiful in person and not playing him for a fool.

He checks himself for the tenth or eleventh time in the mirror, ensuring the buttons on his white button-up aren’t accidentally asymmetrical and that an appropriate amount of his chest is showing–trying his best to walk the fine line of “dressed up, but not too dressed up”.

He went back and forth on the tie, ultimately deciding it might be a tad too much. He does choose a nice belt buckle–a sleek oval with engraved Texas wildflowers and a steer’s skull in the center. He adjusts and readjusts the buckle so it sits just right below the belly of his tucked shirt. He knows his stomach has gotten a little soft over the years, a long way from when he used to care about having a more trim and toned body.

But he’s never been self-conscious about it; his body does what it needs to do to get the job done, if not for his damned knees and lower back. But he’s been content with himself, not too bothered.

Until tonight, that is.

He shakes it off, nothing to be done about it now. He just hopes she likes her men a little soft in the stomach, but hard where it counts. Besides, if he has it his way, by the end of the night you’ll be craving every inch of him regardless of how he looks.

He finishes up by rolling the sleeves on his shirt to the tops of his forearms. He does know he has nice arms. If construction does anything, it does guarantee that. He figures he should play to his strengths. Not to mention he fucking hates the feeling of tight, buttoned sleeve cuffs around his wrists.

He checks the time on his watch, muttering a “shit” as he jumps into gear and hurries out the door.

---

The moment he lays eyes on you, he’s absolutely positive he must be dreaming. There was no way you look as good as you did in your picture—hell, better.

You did wear a dress. A flouncy little lavender thing that molds to your breasts perfectly while still putting your cleavage on display, making his dry, nervous mouth suddenly feel like a water slide—one he would love for you to ride on. His eyes slip down to where the dress lands a little higher than mid-thigh. Enough to still be decent, but enough to still look plenty indecent.

When he catches your eye, you light up, and it might be the most breathtaking sight he’s ever witnessed. He jumps up from his seat at the table reserved for the two of you and reaches for your hand to place a light kiss to the back of it. Lips still hovering over your skin he says, “You look absolutely stunning, darlin’. Prettier n’a picture.” He allows you to relinquish your hand and hurries to pull your chair out for you. You give a small giggle at the gesture and offer him a polite thank you as he scoots you in closer to the table.

Before he can help himself, he dips low by your ear and whispers, “Somehow even prettier than your pictures. I didn’t know that was possible.” You blush slightly at the words and Joel strolls back to his seat across from you.

“And you are mighty handsome, Joel Miller. I’m very glad that I was right.”

You glance at the table, taking in the small bouquet of flowers laying on the center of the table.

“Oh!” Joel hops up again, swiftly picking up the bouquet and rounding the table to offer them properly. “Almost forgot. For you, of course.” He shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, got so distracted with you walkin’ in all…perfect and such.”

You gift him a light laugh in return, pressing the flowers to your nose and inhaling. “They’re beautiful, thank you, Joel.”

Joel nods matter-of-factly, giving you a bit of an awkward smile. “I apologize, my dating skills are a little rusty.”

“You’re just fine,” you say with another small laugh. “I’m gonna go run these to my car, okay? So we’ve got some room on the table.”

“Shit,” Joel mutters, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about where you’d have to put ‘em, I just wanted to be polite—”

“Joel,” you gently interrupt as you stand with a delicate hand on his shoulder and the flowers pressed against your chest, “I love them.” You make sure he is making eye contact with you when you deliberately nod reassuringly.

You smile at him again, sliding your hand down his shoulder to his bicep, squeezing so lightly he’s not entirely sure you actually meant to do it, before letting go and winking at him over your shoulder as you head out to your car.

Oh, you definitely meant to do it. Joel looks down sheepishly, smiling a little to himself. He feels the tips of his ears heating up. You called him handsome. You squeezed his bicep. You loved the flowers. Fuck, he’s got to shake off this awkwardness. It is not doing him any favors. He stretches his neck from side to side, rubbing it as he takes his seat again.

The second time you approach the table, you look just as radiant. When he stands again to help you into your seat, you bypass your chair and press a soft hand to his chest. “I can pull out my own chair, but thank you. And thank you for the flowers.” You lean in on your tip-toes and give him a peck on the cheek. Pink rapidly starts to bloom where your lips had been and he tilts his head in gratitude, only retaking his seat once you’ve taken yours.

Right then the server appears, and you order a white wine. Joel takes that as his cue to finally have that glass of whiskey he’s been yearning for, for about the past three hours.

As the server leaves, Joel’s brows scrunch together as he looks up at you. “How the hell are you so good at this? I feel like I’m flounderin’ to impress you here.”

You shrug, a smile dancing at your lips once more—god, he could watch that smile for hours and not get bored a single second of it. “You remember I told you that I typically know what I want.”

“I do. And I greatly admire it right about now. Feel like a goddamn fish outta water.”

“So many fish similes,” you tease, taking a sip of your water that had been set with the table.

“I’m doin’ my best out here,” he sighs, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture.

“I think the good news is it can only get better from here,” you tease again with a smirk. “I can wade through the awkwardness because I know full well what’s on the other side of it.” Your eyes dip down ostentatiously to what you know sits just below the lip of the table, and then slowly rake back up Joel’s torso to his lips, finally meeting the spark that has ignited in Joel’s own eyes. “Unless you end up being all bark and no bite,” you add with an innocent lilt to your voice.

Joel feels a low growl travel up his throat. “Oh, I bite.”

The server chooses that moment to deliver your drinks. Joel clears his throat a little, shifting in his seat as he wills the prickling of arousal in his body to subside for the moment. As she sets down your wine, you offer a quiet thank you to the server, then glance again at Joel and respond with a simple, “Good.”

The banter comes easier after that. It seems like neither of you can really help the sexually-charged quips that keep slithering out of each other. In a way, Joel is grateful for it. Sex he’s comfortable with. He can do sex. Romance, not so much. And as much fun as he’s having playing the gentleman with you, he is itching to show you what he truly has to offer. Prove that he is bark and bite. See those perfect tits spill out of that pretty dress like they’ve been fighting to do all throughout dinner.

When the check arrives, Joel immediately reaches for his wallet.

“Do I need to do that thing where I pretend like I want to help pay, or can we just skip that?”

Joel flicks his eyes over to you with raised brows before he slides his card into the black check presenter and hands it to the server with a polite smile and an expression of gratitude. When the server is on her way, Joel lets out a small chuckle and looks back at you. “Oh, you’re gonna pay, darlin’. You’re in charge of dessert.”

You quirk an eyebrow back at him. “Am I now?”

Joel nods, running his thumb back and forth over the rim of his empty whiskey tumbler. “I’m in the mood for somethin’ juicy and sweet. Any ideas?”

Your tongue mindlessly, mesmerizingly caresses the straw in your water. “Something with whipped cream and a cherry on top maybe?”

Joel scoffs, leaning in across the table with a harsh whisper, “I know a goddamn slut like you don’t still got her cherry, but you better believe if you did I’d be popping it tonight while you screamed out my name.”

A wicked smile crosses your face as you adopt an innocent cadence to your voice. “But I do still have my cherry, daddy.”

That goddamn name again. With that goddamn voice to go with it. “Fuuuuck me,” he mutters, desperately wishing he had another whiskey to toss back. But he fully intends on taking you back to his place as soon as the server returns. “You better knock that shit off real quick or this restaurant is ‘bout to get a front-row seat to me spreadin’ open your precious unpopped cherry, little girl.”

You meet him with a determined look of your own, squinting your eyes with a challenge. “You don’t have the guts, old man.”

Joel is about to leap out of his chair when the server cheerily places down the black book and thanks you both for dining before leaving again. Joel snatches his card from the book and shoves it into his wallet before leveling a finger at you. “You need to learn some manners, babygirl. ‘F you agree to follow me to my place, daddy will teach you those manners.”

Your eyes flicker from his pointed finger to his eyes. “I can be very stubborn.”

Joel smirks. “I like ‘em stubborn. Makes it all the sweeter when they finally break for me.”

That line gets you. You swallow. “Fuck.”

Joel scribbles in a generous tip on the receipt, mostly grateful that the server didn’t hover much and left the two of you to flirt awkwardly (in his case) in peace. He gets up and offers you his hand to help you stand. When you take it, he hauls you up close to him as you let out an unexpected gasp. He drifts his mouth to your ear like he had earlier, but this time his words are far less congenial. “Think very carefully about whether you decide to follow me, babygirl. Because I fully intend on fuckin’ ruinin’ you for every other goddamn man who even thinks about this cunt.”

As Joel heads out the front doors and pulls his car out onto the street, he doesn't even look back to see if you’re following.

He knows you are.

So far, Joel is fucking perfect. You love how awkward he was trying to impress you. You love how he gradually transitioned into that dominant personality when he became more comfortable. And you love that, when it comes to sex, he seems to be able to read you like a fucking book.

Like, the man bought you fucking flowers. Come on. Who the hell buys flowers for a first date anymore?

Maybe a guy who probably did most of his dating in the eighties and nineties, you guess.

But seriously, how were you not expected to open your legs at the first chance? He’s straight out of a dirty rom-com. The way his sexual banter comes so easy to him, dishing it out as well as he can take it. Threatening to fuck you in the middle of a restaurant. Whispering in your ear how he’s going to destroy you for other men.

If it turns out he can, you decide, you’re going to fucking let him.

Joel’s pickup rolls up the driveway of a nice suburban home, on a nice suburban street. You follow suit, pulling up the drive next to him. Before you even have your seatbelt off, Joel is opening your door for you and holding his hand out for yours.

“Such a gentleman,” you purr playfully, accepting his hand. You’re pretty sure you hear him mutter under his breath, “Not for long.” That makes you smile. He drops your hand in favor of placing his on the small of your back, guiding you up the front steps to the door.

You almost expect him to jump you the second he unlocks the door, but he doesn’t. Once you’re both over the threshold, he presses the door closed behind him with his back and leans against it, his arms folding across his chest.

You give him a sultry look, taking one step toward him. Before you can take another step, he holds a finger up, indicating for you to wait. You wait.

“Now before we do this,” he starts, his voice calm and velvety in the tension-filled air, “I want to make sure I’m not gonna spook ya.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna spook me, daddy.”

His head tilts away the slightest bit at the word, and you see a flex in his jaw. “Regardless. I wanna clarify. Is there anythin’ I said to you during that…text conversation…that you didn’t like?”

Your heart swells a little at his deliberate consideration. It is so rare for a guy to actually make you feel safe and reckless at the same time. “Not a single thing,” you breathe, shaking your head. “Trust me, I’ve read it over about a thousand times at this point.”

You have. You didn’t want to bother him much after it happened, hoping he would make the first move. Instead, you just read the conversation over and over, your eyes lingering over his filthy words as you allowed him to bring you to orgasm two, three, five times over the few days Joel hadn’t reached out, just through his written words.

Lucky for you, he did make the first move. And now you hope—fear—that he might be getting ready to give you the best night of your life.

His eyes trace over your face, deciding you were telling the truth. “Well,” he flexes his biceps as they stretch across his chest, and looks down at the hardwood floor for a moment before meeting your eyes once more, “I can get a little intense. I’m a man who likes bein’ in charge, who likes puttin’ little troublemakers like you in their place. I may slap you, I may choke you, I may spank you. That okay with you?”

You nod eagerly.

“Your face is real pretty, darlin’, but I need you to say it. Let me hear that pretty voice too.”

You clear your throat. “Yes. That’s okay with me.”

Shit is it ever okay with you. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so okay with something. You’ve experimented plenty, tested the waters of more kinks than you can count on both your hands (as well as your toes if we’re being honest). You know exactly how you like to be treated. You already feel yourself shivering the tiniest bit with excitement and possibility.

“You have a safeword?”

You nod. “Honeysuckle.”

“Alright. You use that word if you need to, for any reason, and we stop. No questions asked. Otherwise, I’m gonna assume everythin’ is fine and I’m gonna keep goin’. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he rolls off the door at his back and saunters over to you, gripping your chin in his large hand. His thumb catches and drags along your jaw with a callused touch that you think you could quickly get addicted to. As he speaks, you feel his breath ghost over your lips, “We’re gonna have some fun, aren’t we, babygirl?”

Your eyes flutter closed as his nose traces up and down the shell of your ear, completely losing yourself in the sensation of him being near you.

“Answer me, babygirl,” he orders quietly but firmly into your ear.

You swallow and nod your head, “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” The combination of his praise and the intimacy of his deep voice floating into your ear has goosebumps shooting across your flesh. “That’s what you call me. Daddy or Sir. Is that clear?”

You quirk up the corner of your mouth. “Not ‘Mr. Miller’?”

You don’t anticipate the sharp smack that lands on your cheek, whipping your head to the side. You feel the sting immediately after, and you have the insane thought that you want him to do it again. He jerks you back by your chin to look at him, eyes unflinchingly blazing into you. “I’ve already told you once not to call me that. Or were you lyin’ through your teeth about readin’ those texts a thousand times?”

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the smile that spreads on your lips. “I remember, sir,” you reply, testing the new term on your tongue to see how it feels. You like that one too, you decide.

“Seems like you fuckin’ forgot. I hope, for your sake, you got a better memory goin’ forward.” Your eyes catch Joel flexing his hand at his side, probably shaking out the smart of your face against his palm. “‘N you better wipe that goddamn smile off your face. Little girl’s got a fuckin’ death wish.”

You struggle to rein in your smile, biting into your lower lip. “Yes, sir.”

Joel’s hands find your hips, walking you back until you hit a wall. He inhales deeply into the crook of your neck, shaking his head as he exhales. “Nothin’ but trouble, just like I said.”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sigh as Joel’s mouth sucks wet kisses into your neck and down to your collarbone.

“Not yet you ain’t,” he grumbles into your skin. His hand skates down your thigh, gripping near the back of your knee and hitching it up onto his hip. Your dress raises with it, revealing your lace panties to the open air. The fabric, already flooded with your arousal, chills against your flushed pussy with the new exposure. “But you will be, babygirl.”

You already know how big he is from his picture and video, but when he grinds his crotch against yours, you start to understand how big he really is. A moan falls out of your lips at the thought.

“Feels awful big, doesn’t it?”

You whimper in response, his mouth still working its way across your chest and onto the swell of your tits in your dress.

“What do we do if it doesn’t fit?” He proposes as he grinds against you again, hand clutching tight into the flesh of your thigh at his hip.

“I don’t know, sir,” you pant out.

Joel chuckles with a darker tone than he has before, and the sound inexplicably has a gush of juices defiling your panties further. He raises his head to curl his tongue at your earlobe and nip it playfully. “We make it fit, babygirl.”

Your head falls back against the wall with a breathy moan, daring to bring your hand up to bury into his hair and tug lightly. Thankfully he groans into your neck at the action. You nod your head, albeit a little shakily. “We’ll make it fit, daddy.”

“Atta girl. Now let me see these pretty tits. Practically burstin’ out this slutty little dress, hmm?” He slides his hand around to your back, finding the zipper and pulling it down. The top of your dress droops down over your waist as you slip your arms out of the straps. A dexterous hand makes fast work of the clasp of your bra, and you allow that to fall too, leaving you naked from the waist up. “Fuck, babygirl.”

Joel’s face immediately drops into your chest, hands squeezing them together to nip and suck at them. “Shit, this is all I been thinkin’ ‘bout all week. These perfect fuckin’ tits.” You gasp as he takes a nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking until it’s hard and stinging while he massages the other in his broad hand. He dutifully mimics his ministrations on your other breast until they are both hard and glistening.

Breathing heavily at your chest, he suddenly pulls away, grabbing your hand and tugging you behind him. “Fuck it, waited long enough,” he mutters, leading you up the stairs and through a door at the top—his bedroom. Your dress falls down your hips on the way and you step out of it hastily along with your heels.

Joel drags his eyes up and down your body in nothing but your soaked thong as he jerks his shirt out of his pants, making quick work of the buttons and shedding the garment. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.” The order is cold, domineering, and you don’t think twice before obeying. “Fuck, the way those pretty things bounce when you drop to your knees for me. Naughty fuckin’ thing.”

You look up at him with an attempt at innocence, bringing your hands up to play with your tits for him. “Not used to a beautiful, young girl being on her knees for you, daddy? This new for you?”

His eyes burrow into yours, his face stoic as he flips open his belt buckle and unfastens it deftly, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it onto the floor. He raises an eyebrow at you. “I’d think twice about antagonizin’ me like that if I was you. Got you on your knees pretty damn quick, what makes you think you’re the first young, slutty piece of ass I’ve had lookin’ up at me with those big, baleful ‘fuck me’ eyes?”

He cups your chin in his hand, using the other to undo his jeans and pull down the zipper. “You got somethin’ to say, little girl, then say it. ‘Fore you got your mouth full.”

You blink up at him, swallowing the excessive saliva gathering in your mouth at the thought of him filling it. “Nothing, sir.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Nothin’? That smart little mouth always got somethin’ to say, and when I let you speak you got nothin’?”

Your eyes dart away from him as you let out a quiet breath. “I just…,” you shuffle on your knees nervously. “You mentioned you were out of practice, so I thought maybe…”

“Look at me,” he barks out at you, and your eyes hurry back to him. “You look at me when you’re talkin’ to me. You got somethin’ to say, you say it right to my face.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, when I said I was rusty I meant about the whole datin’, romance thing. But I don’t gotta wine and dine a girl to fuck her.”

“You wined and dined me,” you point out.

Joel nods. “I did. And now that I think about it,” he removes his hand from your chin to rub at his own, fingers scratching against his beard, “I haven’t heard a thank you for that, have I?”

You play the dinner over in your head, analyzing whether he’s right about that. “I thanked you for the flowers.”

“Didn’t see you eatin’ the flowers though, did I?”

“No, sir,” you reply softly. “Thank you for the dinner.”

Joel strokes your hair gently for a moment, then grips it harshly at the root, jerking your head back so you’re looking at the ceiling. “Open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, opening your mouth wide. You can’t exactly suck him off from this angle, but you don’t ask questions.

He doesn’t make you wait long for the answer. Without warning, he leans over you and spits directly into your mouth. Your eyes fly open in shock. You’ve done a lot of things. Yet, for some reason, you have never had a man spit in your mouth. You feel it glide along your tongue and pool at the back of your throat.

“There’s your dessert, babygirl,” he grunts coldly, “Swallow it and say ‘thank you’.”

Something akin to shame paints your cheeks pink, but you love it. The feeling of degradation has your pussy pulsing in your panties. You make a point to meet his gaze as you swallow down his spit, mixed with your own, and say, “Thank you, daddy.”

He loosens his hold on your hair, stroking it softly again. “That’s a good girl. See? Told you I’d teach ya some manners.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Joel crouches down to your level and palms your cheek, brushing your skin with his thumb. “Good manners get rewards, babygirl. Would you like that?”

You hum as your eyes drift closed at the rhythmic movement of his thumb. “Yes, daddy.”

“Look at me, babygirl,” he prompts, but with softness this time. Your eyes fall open again to stare into his for a moment before he tilts your chin and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s exceedingly chaste in comparison to everything else you’ve done up until this point, which makes the tips of your fingers and toes tingle.

He deepens the kiss slowly, bringing his other hand to cup around your neck. Not squeezing, but a comforting pressure that has you sinking into his kiss even further.

“You taste so sweet, babygirl,” he muses, placing a final kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you for my reward, daddy.”

He nuzzles his nose against yours, “You’re very welcome, baby. Thank you for being a good girl for me.”

You take a deep breath. “Can I…”

Joel pulls back enough to watch as you speak. “Can you what, babygirl?”

You fiddle with the hem of your panties, but look him in the eyes like he asked. “Can I please suck your cock, daddy?”

Joel’s gaze falls to your lips as he licks his own. “You say ‘please’ so fuckin’ pretty.” He hoists himself back up and finishes pulling his cock and balls out of his underwear and undone jeans.

Your eyes go wide as you drink him in, his hand wrapped around the width of himself making it look even bigger. He strokes himself leisurely, using the pre-come at the head to lubricate the slide, staring at you with hooded eyes. “What do you think, baby? Not quite so eager when you see how big it really is?”

You shake your head. “I still want it, sir.”

He lets out a laugh. “‘Course you do. Cock hungry little whore.” He taps the leaking head against your bottom lip. You immediately lick the pre-come off in your haste to get just the briefest taste of him, savoring the saltiness on your tongue. “Greedy cumslut. Spit on it.”

You look up at him hesitantly, but he nods down at you. You gather your saliva in your mouth and follow instructions, spitting it onto the head of his cock. Joel groans, stroking himself from tip to base and spreading out your makeshift lubricant.

He makes you wait for it, makes you watch as he strokes himself at a languid pace. “Bein’ such a good girl for me. So responsive. What are the fuckin’ odds that the person on the other end of my wrong number is a bratty little slut like you? Just my type.”

“I’m very lucky, daddy.”

“Shit, I'm lucky, babygirl. Lucky you were brave enough to push me to talk to you. Lucky you’re such a desperate fuckin’ whore, you get your tits out for every man who gives you the time of day. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Say it out loud for me. What are you?”

You bite your lip, affecting a façade of innocence that severely contradicts your words. “I’m a desperate whore.”

“And what should a desperate whore like you do when on her knees in front of a giant cock like this?”

You furrow your brow as you search for the best answer. “Beg?”

Joel shakes his head, “Not unless I tell you to. Whether you get this cock is not up to you, is it?”

“No, sir.”

“What you do is you shut up and take what you’re given.”

You nod in response, not wanting to speak unless he asks you to after that instruction. He places his hand at the back of your head as he moves closer toward you.

“Now, open nice and wide for daddy.”

A whimper slips out as you drop your jaw and stick out your tongue for him.

Joel starts by rubbing the head of his cock along the length of your tongue, letting every inch, every taste bud get its fill of him. He is thick and heavy on your tongue, already stretching your mouth to accommodate him. You can’t help moaning around him as he dominates your mouth.

“Very good. Now keep that tongue out,” He instructs as he pushes further in, not stopping until he hits the back of your throat. You reflexively gag against him, your jaw protesting against the size of him, but you stay steady. His hand on your hair digs in tighter, ensuring you stay still as he fucks in and out and taps at the back of your throat repeatedly. Your reaction to the intrusion tampers as he goes, allowing him to take you faster, rougher.

Tears well and break free from the corners of your eyes and your nose starts to run at the relentless onslaught of his cock aggressively claiming your mouth. Joel’s grunts and groans mesh with the wet, sinful sound of your gagging as you relax your jaw and give it over to him to just take.

“Good fuckin’ girl. Knew a slutty, cock-starved bitch like you would take this dick like a champ.” He pulls out and you cough, saliva running thick between your lips and his cock. “Look at you, darlin’,” he smacks his cock against the side of your face, then the other side, then your dripping lips, “Fuckin’ pathetic.”

You just open your mouth for him again.

“That’s right. Open right back up for me.” He begins to fucks your mouth punishingly, bringing a hand to your chin and smearing your spit wherever he can reach on your face. “Such a fuckin’ mess.”

He eases up again, using the head of his cock to spread more of your spit across your skin. He guides you with a firm hand down below his dick until you’re level with his balls “Suck.”

You waste no time mouthing wetly at them, sucking each ball into your mouth and laving over them with your tongue. Joel’s moans grow louder as he strokes his cock above you. “Just like that, yes baby. Such a filthy mouth on you. So much more useful–fuck–when it’s filled up.” You hum around him, glowing with pride at his small break in composure.

“Alright, babygirl, that’s enough. Gonna make me fuckin’ come already,” He grunts out, pulling your mouth from between his legs. He grips your upper arm and helps you stand. Your knees twinge from the sting of the carpet rubbing into them and your jaw aches from the stretch, but your hormones are soaring and your pussy is practically vibrating with how hard it’s throbbing.

You let him lead you where he wants you, which happens to be in front of a full-body mirror hanging on the wall. You take in your nearly naked form in the reflection, watching as Joel wraps his hands around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

“I want you to see what I reduce you to when you’re with me. See how fuckin’ wrecked you are just from me fucking one of your holes. Look.”

You definitely see it, that’s for sure. You take in your blown-out pupils, your puffy red lips, your watery eyes, and your tangled hair. A mixture of tears, snot, and saliva coats your flushed cheeks and thoroughly fucked features.

You look used. Taken.

Ruined.

“You see it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember it.”

You nod at him in the mirror.

Joel’s hand travels south as he locks eyes with you in the reflection. He toys with the band of your panties, then slips his hand inside. Your eyes follow his hand hungrily.

“Look at me,” He orders. You return to his heated gaze, forcing yourself to hold it as he dips a finger between your folds for the first time. You have to fight your body’s will to roll your eyes into the back of your head at the unbelievable zap of pleasure that comes from finally being touched. You fear if you disobey his orders he’ll stop, and you think you’d actually rather die than cause that to happen.

His finger traces lazy circles around your entrance, sliding around with far too much ease. “Shit, babygirl. You could swim in these fuckin’ panties they’re so wet. Filthy fuckin’ girl, gettin’ off gaggin’ on this dick.” He slides in with zero resistance, pulling a moan from your raw throat. “This cunt is screamin’ that she’s ready for my cock, isn’t she?”

Another pitiful moan vibrates your lips as he adds a second finger, spreading them inside as he fucks you. Your clit feels like it’s straining for his attention as it goes neglected, but you don’t dare speak. You simply melt into his avaricious eyes as he winds you up around his fingers.

Your hips jut forward in search of even an ounce more of pressure as you whine, shamelessly seeking relief as your orgasm begins to spiral without him so much as bumping into your clit. Joel tuts in your ear and removes his fingers at your actions and you groan loudly.

“Now, now, don’t get greedy, babygirl.”

“Please, daddy,” You sob, grabbing at his arm that’s now resting on your stomach, fingers still wet with your juices. “Don’t stop. I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t stop.”

Joel chuckles in your ear, extracting his arm from your grip. “Oh, darlin’. Unless you safeword, you’re gonna do whatever I want regardless. Not much leverage there.”

As much as you hate to admit it, you know he’s right. You would do just about anything this man asked you to do at this point. He has you feeling so safe, so seen, that your safeword is far from the front of your mind. Still logged away in case you need it, but laying blissfully dormant in a corner of your brain. You’re as wrapped around his finger as your pussy was moments ago. You don’t know what this man is made of, but it’s intoxicating your senses, bending your will to his like some ethereal elixir trickling down your throat and seeping in through your skin.

He taps his two glistening fingers at your lips. “Clean up your mess.”

You oblige, sucking the digits into your mouth and enthusiastically licking them clean of yourself. He pulls them out with a pop and uses his spit-slick hand to play with your tit, squeezing the flesh and pinching at the nipple. “You let me play with you like a little doll, don’t you, baby? My little fuckdoll.” Then his hand is gliding up your chest and around your neck again. He presses in on the sides of your windpipe just enough to hinder your air supply. “Are you on birth control, babygirl?”

Your brain wades through the fog clouding your thoughts from the pleasurable thrill of the suppression of oxygen. You manage a nod.

“That’s good,” He mumbles into your neck, sucking and scraping his teeth and clearly not caring about leaving marks on you. You know you should probably be concerned with the state of your neck tomorrow, but you truly cannot bring yourself to give a fuck. Particularly so when he continues his thought. “Because I intend to shoot my load so deep inside this pussy that you taste it on your tongue.”

Your head drops back in a loud moan, “Yes, please, daddy!”

He tightens his hand on your neck, your brain going hazy again. “Listen to you, beggin’ for this come. Probably let anyone with a cock bust their nut in that fucked out hole. Dirty fuckin’ slut. Wouldn’t be surprised if you feel so wet ‘cause you got another man’s load in there right now. Hmm?”

The humiliation at his words has your whole body burning hot. You take a grateful gulp of air as he slackens his grasp on your throat. “Don’t let anyone come inside me, daddy! Only you!”

“You’re goddamn fuckin’ right only me,” He growls, delivering a hard smack to your pussy over your panties. “This?” He cups a hand over your crotch and digs his fingers in, “is fucking mine.”

You nod frantically, “Yes, daddy! All yours, I promise!”

At last, Joel releases you, spins you around, and shoves you in the direction of the bed. “On your back. Wanna watch your soul leave your body when I stretch you open for the first time.”

You scramble onto his bed, crawling to the top and plopping yourself among his pillows. Joel strips off what remains of his clothing, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. Seeing him fully naked has your cheeks going hot and your brain working overtime. You allow yourself a moment to take him in and admire just how truly sexy this man is. His scruffy beard, the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, the enviably plush lips. Your eyes roam down his strong, broad chest to his soft belly, looking absolutely delectable. You want to bury yourself in that tummy, kissing it and biting it and laying your head down on it after.

His thick, sturdy thighs frame that beautiful, massive cock. You want your mouth on every goddamn inch of him at once.

Joel clears his throat under your awed stare. When glance back up to his face, you could swear his expression goes momentarily bashful. “Like what you see, darlin’?”

“Very, very much, sir.”

“Feelin’s mutual, babygirl.” He crawls up the bed after you, hovering over your sensitive body. You know it's probably in your head, but you almost feel a staticky sensation flowing between the two of you as he glares at you hungrily. He sits back onto his calves and flattens his hands against the top of each thigh, inching them achingly slow toward your panties. He hooks a finger under the hem at both hips and tugs them down at a frustrating pace, clearly enjoying every moment of your desperation.

Your body starts getting fidgety. “Please just take them off,” You whisper hastily, hopefully quiet enough that he doesn’t hear, but of course he does.

He raises an eyebrow at you and pauses, leaving your thong in place halfway down your calves. “Are we not bein’ patient, baby?”

You bite your lip, your fingers clutching absentmindedly at his duvet. “I think I’ve been very patient, daddy. Just want you. It’s a compliment.”

That elicits a little smile from him. “Is that so? You think that’s how this works?” You shrug sheepishly. “Who’s in charge here, little girl?”

“‘You…”

He tilts his head in a manner that feels oddly threatening. “And who here decides whether you even get fucked at all?”

You whine, admittedly a little childishly, “Daddy, please–”

You hear the slap before you see or even feel it. This one was harder than the last one. The impact has your head swinging sharply to the side, followed by the ignition of a thousand fiery pinpricks where the smack landed on your face. You exhale a breathy gasp at the sheer force of it as tears well involuntarily at your waterline. A warm hand puts pressure on your smarting cheek, thumb stroking soothingly at the rapidly blooming pain. When he speaks, his voice is low and admonishing, but with an undertone of compassion. “Do not whine at me like a bratty child. Especially when I am asking you a specific question that I expect you to answer. Understood?”

You nod as you scrunch closed your eyes to rid yourself of the tears. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel brushes his thumb up below your eye where a tear has escaped, wiping up what he can. He locks eyes with you as he brings the finger to his mouth and wraps his lips around it, sucking off the salty evidence of your distress.

Something like that from anyone else in the world, you think, would come off as truly unhinged. But because it’s Joel, the act just serves to arouse you more. Him getting off on your humiliation, your pain, your suffering. Every issuance of degradation, purely for his own twisted pleasure.

It’s so fucking hot.

The way he masterfully seems to manipulate the levity of each moment since you entered his home–taking, then giving, then taking again–has the synapses in your brain firing at each other. The exhilaration of never knowing what he’s going to do next has your body in a near-permanent state of stimulation. It makes you want to poke and prod at him but humbles you enough to pick and choose your battles with him.

Joel rids you fully of your panties after that, flinging them somewhere behind him. “Are we happy now? Finally gettin’ what you want,” he grunts. He wedges his hands at the back of your thighs and lifts, pushing your knees up by your ears. “Hold yourself open for me. Let me see what’s mine.”

Your body shudders at the rush of air between your legs and the anticipation of getting his cock inside you after what feels like a million years of waiting. You take over his grip on your legs, hooking your hands around the backs of your knees. Maybe you should be ashamed of how open you are for him like this, but the sick thrill of depravity ebbs away any disgrace.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans in wonderment as lays on his stomach with his face at your folds, spreading your lips lewdly with his fingers. “Perfect fuckin’ tits, perfect fuckin’ pussy.” You do your best to crane your head forward to watch as his head dips low, licking a firm stripe up the whole center of your cunt. You jolt reflexively toward his mouth for more. Just that one lick has your legs shaking in your hands and your clit burning with the desire for release.

Joel lays a single wet kiss to your clit, sucking for barely a second before pushing himself back up onto his knees and crawling over you again. His mouth shines with your wetness and a mischievous smile. “You ready for me to pop this cherry, pretty girl?”

You can’t help but laugh a little deliriously. Partly with unbridled horniness, partly with the utter absurdity of the false notion that you could possibly still have your virginity, particularly with the juxtaposition of the debauchery the two of you have committed in this room already. You do, however, love the little callback to your earlier dinner banter.

“I’m so ready, daddy.”

“You sure? It’s gonna hurt.”

“I want it to hurt,” You whisper.

“Shit,” He mutters in response. He takes his cock in his hand and you feel the blunt head of him press at your entrance. Once again, you’re forced to come to terms with how huge he is in comparison to your hole. You expected him to maybe stretch you more with his fingers first, try and make the initial intrusion a little easier. Then again, you’re not at all surprised he doesn’t. Joel’s sadistic streak has already poked its head out a couple times tonight, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scratch a correspondingly masochistic itch of your own.

“Daddy, it’s too big,” You whimper as Joel teases at your dripping hole.

Joel nuzzles along your ear. “Now, baby, remember what we said earlier?”

You turn your head toward his, your noses brushing lightly and your breath mingling together warmly. You nod. You reply in a small voice, “We make it fit.”

“That’s right, babygirl.”

And Joel pushes in.

The initial shock of pain has the breath whooshing out of your lungs, punctuated by a high-pitched moan. The pain rapidly dissolves into pleasure as Joel continues to roll his hips steadily into you, inch by inch. Joel grunts through clenched teeth, “Such a tight cunt for such a filthy whore. There you go, baby. You wanted this cock so bad, fuckin’ take it.”

All you can do is moan as your hands slip from behind your knees to wrap your legs around his waist. You’re flooded with relief when Joel permits the shift, continuing to rock his hips gradually until he’s bottomed out inside of you.

“Shit, that’s so fucking big.”

“I know, baby,” Joel placates as he pins your wrists above your head with one big hand. “Just take it like a good girl.”

Joel begins a brutal pace, pulling out to the head and snapping his hips into you with increasing speed. Your heels dig into his ass, silently begging for him to give you as much as he possibly can.

“How’s it feel babygirl?”

Your breath comes out in spurts as you try your best to answer, “S-s-so fu-cking good! F-f-fucking in-in-credible!”

“Splittin’ you right fuckin’ open, isn’t it, baby? Suckin’ it right up this fuckin’ cunt.”

“Y-yes daddy!”

A hand comes up to squeeze at your throat, and your eyes start to roll at the heady sensation. The lack of air intensifies the rhythmic pounding of Joel’s cock inside your pussy, a floaty feeling trickling through every vein.

“Pretty little thing, lettin’ yourself get used by a dirty old man like me. Spreadin’ these fuckin’ legs like I’m payin’ you for it.” Joel pulls out swiftly, flipping you over onto your stomach and yanking your ass in the air as if you were a ragdoll. His hand comes back around to grip your throat lightly as he shoves himself back inside in one thrust, settling back into that grueling pace. This position has his hips smacking into your ass on every thrust, the sound ringing filthy and wicked around the room.

“There we go, takin’ it from behind like a real whore now, huh?” He releases his hold on your neck as he gathers your hair like a ponytail into his fist, jerking your head back and using his grip on it like a handlebar, holding you in place as he wrecks your hole.

This angle has Joel hitting impossibly deep inside of you, and your pussy is screaming for attention. You’re pretty sure all Joel has to do is brush your clit and you’ll be coming all over him. As if he can read your thoughts, Joel mercifully drops a hand between your legs and starts rubbing circles around your clit. “Come on, babygirl, I know you’re close. Been close all fuckin’ night, huh?”

“Yes, daddy, please!” You sob, greedily rocking your hips into his hand as your orgasm burns heavy in your stomach. The hand in your hair releases in favor of curling it under your shoulder, hauling you deeper onto his dick.

“Come for me, baby, come on this cock.” His permission has the band inside you snapping completely, throwing your head back with a garbled mess of “thank you”s and “daddy”s and “sir”s, your legs shaking violently below you. Little pulses of lightning sizzle along your skin as your release runs its course, leaving you boneless and thoroughly sated.

Joel continues to fuck into you roughly, both hands clutching at your hips. “That’s a good girl, let daddy use this sweet cunt to get himself off. Just like that.” A hand comes down hard on your ass, making you jolt forward, but you’re too exhausted to let out more than a squeak. “Fuck, daddy’s close, baby,” He groans out, smacking your ass again to feel you squeeze around him.

Joel’s movement become erratic as he approaches his own release, grunting to punctuate each thrust. “Gonna flood this fuckin’ pussy with my come. Fuckin’...take…it…” he growls out as his own orgasm finally hits, slamming in all the way to shoot his come as deep inside you as possible with a loud, primal moan. He drops down onto your back to breathe heavily in your ear as his cock softens slowly. “Good…girl…” he pants out as he strokes the back of your head affectionately.

He rolls off of you gently, and you immediately feel the loss of his cock from your aching pussy. You have half a mind to beg him to just put it back in again to fill the void. Instead, Joel coaxes you to lay your head on his chest as he envelops you in his arms, scratching lightly at your back in a way that has you melting into his body. He uses his other hand to intertwine his fingers with yours and inhales deeply into your hair.

The two of you lay in companionable silence as you come down from your highs. Joel is warm and soft beneath you, smelling of cologne and sweat and sandalwood. You vaguely feel a trickling sensation between your legs as Joel’s come starts to slowly flow out of you onto your thighs and the bed beneath you. You let it happen, getting secret pleasure from being coated in whatever Joel saw fit to give you.

Joel is the first to break the silence.

“How’re you feelin’, darlin’?”

“Pretty sure I can honestly say I’ve never been better,” You admit.

He presses a long kiss onto your head. “You did so good for me.”

You smile broadly into his chest, placing a little kiss of your own there. “I fucking hate that you were right.”

“About what, darlin’?”

You look up at him, taking in his furrowed brow and adorably sex-tousled hair. You heave a great sigh and crane your neck to plant another kiss on his jaw. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

You see Joel fighting against a smile on his lips. “Sorry about that. I did warn you.”

“That you did. But as you now know, I don’t listen very well.”

“Nah, you just need a bit of a firm hand. And I don’t mind givin’ that to ya.”

“I don’t mind receiving it.”

Joel smiles fully now, tightening his hold on you. “I think I would count this as a successful first date.”

“Very successful, I’d say. Not sure how we top this one.”

“I mean…” Joel trails off, as if deciding whether he should continue his thought, but ultimately does. “You do have one hole I haven’t claimed yet.”

His words have your heart racing in your chest and the traitor between your legs heating up again when it definitely shouldn’t. “Fuck.”

Joel chuckles darkly, burying his face in your hair again. “Just food for thought.”

Next Part

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow@atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

Visit here for instructions on how to get a tab just for the blogs you’ve subscribed to at the top of your tumblr page!

taglist: @annaliseelliottxo @paleidiot @ashleymsnodgrass @tsukkie-daisuke @marisemonteiroo @leeeesahhh

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou #the last of us #katy wroted fic #daddy!joel miller #dom!joel miller

1K notes · View notes

seeingivy · 2 months

Text

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

dear head of the cullen clan, keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic. coldest regards, the head of the volturi (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.) (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.)

you snort.

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???), so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes. first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak. second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy??? third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient see u after work pookie :D, carlisle cullen (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.)

his response back is very prompt.

Never call me pookie again. (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.)

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here.

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now.

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one.

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him.

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind.

“hey. i’m sorry i-”

“jesus fuck-”

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you.

“i’ll use it, you pervert!”

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment.

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–”

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!”

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle.

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.”

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand.

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him.

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket.

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?”

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade.

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur.

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks.

“what?”

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…”

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him.

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out.

you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds.

“thanks! you too!”

he narrows his eyes.

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.”

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask.

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.”

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life.

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you.

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling.

“you did research for a date?”

“you can choke on your spit.”

you grin.

“you really know how to turn a girl on.”

“you’re filthy.”

you grin.

“and you’re actually so precious, i–”

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead.

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one.

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask.

he sneers.

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds.

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.”

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.”

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.”

sukuna scoffs.

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.”

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond.

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”

you snort.

“and you say you’re not a pervert…”

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him.

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers.

you grin, leaning in.

“is that right?” you whisper back.

“oh yeah. you irritate me.”

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them.

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek.

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead.

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation.

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over.

“are you crazy?” you whisper.

“what?” he asks.

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.”

sukuna leans back, obliging.

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?”

“oh, shut up.”

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap.

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too?

“sukuna. you didn’t–”

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds.

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile.

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star.

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it.

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.”

“you are so…”

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?”

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond.

sukuna grins.

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds.

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done.

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond.

“and how’s that?”

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.”

sukuna smiles.

“obviously.”

you jab at his side.

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.”

“okay, captain obvious. and?”

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.”

sukuna scoffs.

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.”

“hey! that’s not true.”

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.”

you curl your nose.

“worms?”

“yeah. what were you going to paint?”

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.”

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.”

“sukuna.” you whine.

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on his chest.

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek.

“you just get me, princess!”

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek.

“and i have to do special things for a special person.”

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same.

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond.

sukuna shrugs.

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.”

you groan.

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward.

“you know, you actually do though.”

“as if.” you groan.

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier.

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?”

“yeah.”

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.”

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face.

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke.

“you’re disgusting.”

“you love it.”

sukuna smiles.

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.”

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.”

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.”

you frown.

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.”

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.”

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face.

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.”

“i mean, i think i have an idea.”

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes.

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing.

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you.

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too.

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter.

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research.

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help.

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

361 notes · View notes

delulu-hours · 8 months

Text

Dog tags

Pairing: Jake Seresin x F!reader

Summary: Where reading a book has you fantasying about Jake and his dog tags as he has his way with you.

Waring: 18+ smut, unprotected, biting

A/n: Thank you @agentorange9595 for the request and the lovely idea! On a side not, I am not good at writing smut, but I hope you like it.

You couldn't help but bite your lip as you read the book in hand, fighting back a smile and the urge to giggle. Jake had been out for training, and you knew he would be back late, so you decided to finish the book you were reading. It was about a grumpy special op who fell in love with this badass sunshine girl. You had cried with the female lead when she learned about the terrible past the male lead had and the torture he went through during his ops. The romance was there, and it was hot. And there were several instances where they had hot, rough, and steamy sex. You had never felt jealous over the sex in the books until now. And it wasn't how the male lead was fucking her nice and slow, taking his time but being rough. No. It was for a simple reason.

That reason was that he was fucking her with his dog tags on.

Yep, the dog tags.

As you finished the sex scene, you let out a small groan. You rubbed your thighs together for some relief before placing the book down. "Pure thoughts." You told yourself, trying to help remove the image of Jake hovering over you, his dog tags hanging from his neck. The way his skin would glisten and how you would just be able to pull him closer by the tags. Another groan left your lips as you pulled the pillow to your face, and a muffled scream left your lips. This was torture. You had never known how deprived you were from the sight of seeing this man fuck you with his dog tags. The need for it. The only issue now was asking this from Jake. Asking him to rail you like no tomorrow so you could still feel him in you for days, and your legs couldn't handle walking. To the point where he would leave bruises on your hips from how hard he'd grip you. Your face flushed at the thought, and you wanted to curse your best friend for ever introducing you to a new world of smut. You pulled out your phone and shot her a quick text.

I hate you so much, but at the same time, I love you for recommending this book to me

10:47

You're welcome, and don't come at me with the innocent act cuz we both know it's just a mask.

10:52

You are anything but innocent, you're just too shy to ask.

10:53

You rolled your eyes at the message but placed your phone on the nightstand. You were almost done with the book and knew you could finish it tonight; however, you were ready to be done with it, so you just placed it on your nightstand. You turned off the lights and got ready for bed. Jake had told you not to wait for him, as you both knew you'd try to stay up until he came home. As you got comfortable, snuggling close to Jake's side, you drifted off and fell asleep quickly.

______

Several days passed, and now where you were, holding your drink in your hand. You could see the chain peek out from Jake's naval uniform from where you sat next to Bob and Nat. Lately, your eyes have been drifting to it, and you couldn't help the images that filled your mind as you bit your lip." You okay there?" Nat's voice broke your concentration as you looked at her. A smirk on her lips as she raised an eyebrow. "You look ready to jump him and rip his clothes off." The heat flushed against your skin as you let out a guilty laugh.

"Is it that obvious?" You pressed the back of your hand against your cheek. Nat just laughed and nudged you with her arm as you drank the rest of your drink in one go.

"So much so, but don't worry about any of these meat heads noticing except one." You looked up only to see Jake giving you an amused look, the pool stick in his hands as he took a drink of his beer.

"Oh my gosh," You mumbled. "I think I need another drink." You quickly got up, and Nat followed you.

"Want to tell me what that's all about?" She asked as she hooked her arm with yours as you went to the bar. "Usually, Jake's the one who looks at you like a meal he's ready to devour, not the other way around." This makes your face heat up even more, and the heat between your legs grows.

"Promise not to laugh." You gave her a pleading look as you found two open stools at the bar. She gave you a slight nod as Penny approached you guys.

"What can I get you girls?" She asked with a smile.

"I'm gonna need two shots of tequila." She gave you a look before going to get the shots. Nat had gotten her usual. "I've been reading this book, and it's steamy, Nat." You looked over at her, and a small sigh left your lips. "And when I mean steamy, I mean the girl is bent over while the guy fucks her like he's on heat, leaving marks everywhere. Claiming her and praising her." She raised an eyebrow. "And by no means is that the part that has me like this. Sex with Jake is amazing, but there's one detail in the book that has me running these images in my head, and I can't help it."

"Oh god, please don't talk about sex with him." She scrunched her nose, and you shook her head. Penny came back and placed the drinks in front of you.

"Y/n talking sex?" She joined in the conversation, surprised as well. You weren't one to be open about these conversations.

"No." You shook your head. Taking one of the shots and taking it down in one go. There was a slight burn in the back of your throat as you placed the glass down. "No, I'm not talking about my sex life. All I'm saying is that I wish Jake would keep his dog tags on. The book I'm reading has plagued my mind with the thought of it, and I need it now." You looked at both women, who seemed amused about your confession. "I'm serious here, guys."

"Oh, we know that, honey," Penny patted your hand. "And I think that is why it's entertaining for us." You rolled your eyes and took the next shot; this time, no burning sensation followed.

"It also sounds like you've been deprived of sex for a while." You shot Nat a glare as she snorted. "Like a beast has awoken." You groaned and placed your forehead on the counter.

"I hate you so much." She just laughed, and Pen gave you another shot. You looked at the small shot glass that lay beside you. You rubbed your thighs with a slight whine that left your lips. "I hate ever reading that book even though it's so good! I even saved my favorite parts on it." You pushed yourself up and took the third shot for the night.

Little did you know Jake's eyes had been watching you the entire time. Since the moment he started playing pool with Coyote, he had felt the way you had been looking at him. He felt your eyes burning into him– undressing him– and if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed it. It was rare when you were filled with so much lust and need that you didn't even realize yourself that you were showing it. He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked; however, you would never voice out what you liked. And he didn't mind it one bit. In fact, he loved it whenever he would discover something new about you. Just like at this moment, he had a vague idea of why you were acting the way you were. He accidentally stumbled across a book he had seen you read recently. He got curious about what it was about whenever he saw you, as your reactions were entertaining. So when his curiosity got the better side of him, and he opened it on a marked page, he wasn't expecting what he read. It was a lot to take in that he had to stop himself before getting worked up, but also because it hadn't been something he expected. The details were so vividly written. Just thinking about doing what was written to you made him hot as he pulled at the collar of his naval shirt. He could see the flush that dusted your cheeks even from where he stood. Coyote called out his name; Jake ignored him, passing the pool stick to Bob as he stalked toward you. He could hear Phoenix teasing you and Penny laughing, but he didn't care what they said. You had him worked up, and now he needed you, preferably in the comfort of your home. "What you ladies goin' on about?" He drawled, his hand touched your lower back, and he felt you flinch. He rubbed his thumb on your back and felt how you leaned into him. Reacting to his touch like you usually would.

"Nothin', Y/n was telling us a funny story." Nat had an amused look on her face, and you glared at her.

"You don't mind if I steal her from you then?" Jake asked, already knowing the answer as he moved his hand to your waist, pulling you up. You stumbled a bit due to being caught off guard and the alcohol running through your veins. Nat shook her head, and that was all he needed before drawing you out of Hard Deck.

"Jake," You whined when you were out the doors. "I was still drinking." He moved you towards the truck.

"I think you've had enough for the night, Darlin'." You shivered at the sound of his southern accent sounding heavier than usual. "Wanna tell me what has been goin' in that pretty little head of yours?" When you reached his truck, he turned you to face him. His green eyes looked darker, and you didn't know if it was from the night or from the lust that dilated his pupils. His hands were firmly on your waist as he looked down at you. You bit your lower lip as you took him in. He looked beautiful, but the silver chain that caught your attention was sending you overboard. You pushed your hands up his chest as your fingers grazed the chain. He watched you curiously as you pulled his dog tags, freeing them from his shirt. Your fingers play with the chain before they move to the tags. "Is it that book you've been reading?" He asked, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He would see the needy look on your face, the way a pout sat on your lips. He watched the conflict in your eyes before you made up your mind. He felt the pull on his dog tags as he was forced to lower his face to you. His eyes widened, not used to the sudden dominance you were showing.

"I need you to fuck me, Jake." He felt your lips move against his. He felt how his blood seemed to rush through his body and straight to his groin. "I want you to use me, baby." He felt the tightness in his pants. "Fuck me rough. Mark me up." You pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "Please," You begged, looking up at him through your lashes. A growl ripped out of Jake's lips, and he gripped your hips tighter. A small whimper left your lips as you felt his fingers dig into your waist. And then it all happened too quickly. He got you in the truck and drove back home.

_____

You barely made it through the doors when his hands were all over you. He pushed you up against the wall and pressed up against you. You could feel him. How hard he was. A small moan left your lips as he groped your boobs through your shirt. "You did this to yourself." His lips moved against your neck before his teeth sunk into your skin. You let out a small gasp as you gripped his arm, your nails dug into his skin. His name left your lips with a needy cry. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off you before moving to your bra. His fingers traced the lace fabric over your skin, taking in the black color. "Fuck you're so pretty, sunshine." He was tempted to rip your bra. Rip the rest of your clothes, blocking his view of your beautiful body.

"Jake," You gave him a warning tone, already knowing what he was thinking. "You rip my lingerie, and I will cut your dick off." You threatened. He raised an eyebrow as if the temptation was there. He knew you didn't mean it; however, he had ruined a few of your favorite sets.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled as he lowered himself, placing kisses and allowing his teeth to scrape your skin as he lightly bit you. The goosebumps rose on your skin, and you gripped his hair. Just as he got to the waistband of your jeans, he unbuttoned it. Light feathered kisses on your skin as you threw your head back. He observed you as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your eyes dilated as you looked down at him. He kissed my thighs, and you brought them up, stepping out of your pants. "Look at you," His fingers grazed the front of your black laced underwear. He could feel how wet you were. "All wet for me, and I barely even touched you." He watched as you rocked your hips against his fingers. His other hand gripped your thigh.

"Jake," You whined, needing more. He moved his hands to the back of your knee. Pushing you over his shoulder, he picked you up and marched to your room. A smack echoed in the room, and you felt the burning sensation on your ass. You pushed yourself back up, surprised by his action, while he had a satisfying grin on his lips. He kicked the door open to your room. He didn't even say anything as you dropped him on the bed. You bounced a couple of times as you watched him unbutton his shirt. That look in his eyes made the pit in your stomach flare up. He looked at you like a predator, and you were his prey. He took his shirt off like he was ready to pounce on you, and your eyes racked down his chest. The dog tags hung around his neck and down his chest. You bit your lip as you looked at him, taking in his beauty and how the tags seemed to decorate him. It added to the fuel you had racing through your mind. You moved to your knees, your fingers touching his skin about his waistband as you looked up at him. The doe-eyed look you gave him made Jake groan as he fought the urge to ravage you like the animal he felt. He watched as your fingers undid his pants, your nails scraped his pelvic skin as you pulled his boxers down. He let out a hiss as his cock sprung up and smacked his stomach. You licked your lips as you reached out to grab his throbbing cock. Your thumb ran along the head, rubbing the precum across before you stroked down slowly.

"Fuck," Jake moaned, and you looked at him through your lashes. He looked down at you with hooded eyes as you pumped back up. His face twisted with pleasure before he grabbed your wrist. "Baby, if you keep touching and looking at me like that, I won't last." He pushed the words out, his tumble rubbing the inside of my wrist. "Tonight, it's going to be about you." He pushed you down, hovering over you as he removed your hands. He used his free hand to move your thigh so he could settle in between your legs. He was slightly rocking himself against you before he pulled back. A frown settled on your lips from the lack of contact. He just had a smirk on his lips. "Take it off, or else they're gonna get ripped." He claimed, motioning to your body. He slipped his pants and boxer off completely, and you wasted no time taking off your underwear and bra. You laid back, watching as his hands wrapped around himself and giving himself a few pumps. His eyes looked at you with such hunger it caused the arousal to gather between your thighs. His hands over the head of his cock as you spread your legs open, showcasing your glistening folds. His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw. He didn't even bother grabbing a condom as he settled between your thighs. He guided the head of his cock, coating it with your arousal. His left hand rested by your hips as he held himself up. Each time his head rubbed against your clothes, you whimpered. Desperately trying to get him in you, you shifted your hips and gripped his wrist.

"Jake, please. I need you." You begged, needing him now. He didn't even deny you as he guided himself to your entrance. He didn't even bother prying your hand off his wrist as he held your hip down. He used his hold on you to slip himself in with a full-force thrust. You gasped, back arched as you felt him stretch you open. He forced himself not to close his eyes from the pleasure as he watched the pleasure on your face. Using both hands on your waist, he pulled out all the way, causing a cry to leave your lips before slamming back in. He did that a couple of times, and each time; your reaction drove him crazy. Your nails dug into his skin as you gripped his arm. He moved down to capture your lips, using his right arm to steady himself. The cool metal touched your skin, and you brought his lower lip between your teeth, biting it lightly. Your teeth dragged against his lower lip as he pulled back, and you felt his left hand grip tightly around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't leave bruises. He began to move himself in and out of you; the noise of your skins coming into contact echoed in the room. Moaned curses left your lips as your ankles locked behind him. "Jake- fuck- don't," You squeezed your eyes feeling him hit your sweet spot. "Don't stop, please." He groaned, loving to hear your sweet pleas.

You opened your eyes, and a hazy look of pleasure filled your eyes as your gaze lingered on the dog tags that hung between the both of you. You brought your hand up and lightly tugged on it. Jake felt the way you clenched around him. He slowed down, and you looked up at him, ready to complain. "Is this what has been driving you up the walls, princess?" He raised an eyebrow. When you bit your lip and didn't answer, he rocked his hips before pulling out so the tip of his cock rested in your pussy. "Words. Have you been all needy little thing because you've wanted me to fuck you crazy with my tags?" You whined as he pushed himself in a bit. Even if not being in you was torture, Jake needed to hear you say it. You clenched your walls, trying to get him in you. "What did I say? Use your words." The tone in his voice was demanding. You closed your eyes, lip quivering from the lack of him.

"Jake," You tried to push your hips down, but he held you in place. You knew he wouldn't give you what you needed until you answered him. "Yes," You finally gave in. "I've been wanting you to fuck me with your tags." You looked up at him with hooded lids, and your lashes fluttered against your cheeks.

"See," He trusted himself in you, and you felt full again with him in you. "That's my good girl. It wasn't hard, was it?" You watched as he spun the tags so they would hang on his back, and he felt you clenched down on him hard. "Fuck," He groaned, using his strength to steady himself. "I'm gonna ruin you tonight so this naughty pussy remembers whose it belongs to." He promised, and you felt yourself tense up, knowing that quote a little too well. He licked his lower lip, a smirk dancing on them. You were in for a long night, and you were screwed. He had read your book, specifically the part you had marked.

#top gun jake #top gun jake hangman seresin #top gun jake seresin #top gun hangman #seresin #top gun #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #top gun imagine

1K notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

aita for calling my boyfriend babygirl

let me clarify upfront: my boyfriend has never expressed discomfort with this, and says he likes it, so it’s potentially a non-issue, but it’s still bugging me. this has been ongoing for a little over a month and i feel like i’m going nuts. forgive me if any of the language i use here isn’t correct, i don’t know how else to get the ideas across - feel free to correct me if i could be saying things more inclusively. sorry that this is rambly also. small nsfw warning (nothing too explicit)

i (22m) have been dating my boyfriend (19ftm) for a little over a year. i’m cis and he is trans. admittedly i’m not like… the most well versed in trans issues but i love him more than life itself so i really try to be respectful of him. he was bullied pretty severely in highschool, not just for being trans but his gender identity was no small part of it, and even though he’s not super dysphoric day to day he’s definitely got some boundaries about it. there are certain compliments he likes and some that upset him (he doesn’t enjoy being called pretty or cute, typically) and he’ll snap at people for referring to him with feminine names or titles like “sis” “girl” etc even if it’s done jokingly.

the thing is he’s rarely, if ever, done that with me? i call him pretty and cute all the time (because he is) and he’s always been fine with it. admittedly the first time i did it i didn’t know it was something that usually bugged him, but he’s never said anything to me about it. everytime i have he’s seemed happy. he’s very outspoken, i pretty firmly believe if it was a problem he’d say something about it - again, he has no issues being firm about this boundary with any of his other friends and family. i was doing this before we started dating, so after we started dating it sort of bled into pet names

again, it was never something i asked him about expressly, but at some point i started calling him, like… princess, babygirl, etc. i only ever do this in private, when its just us or when i’m pretty sure only he can hear me, for a few reasons. my boyfriend doesn’t really pass (entirely his choice. he doesn’t bind his chest and he doesn’t want any gender affirming surgeries or hrt - again, he’s not super dysphoric day to day, he only gets upset when it’s commented on and he can bounce back from it pretty quickly) and again, it seems like it’s always made him happy. at the risk of tmi, it especially seems to make him happy in the bedroom, which is another reason i avoid dropping these pet names in front of anyone else. it’s private and i don’t think it’s anyone else’s business.

so. to put this mildly. we went to a house party together recently and i got super smashed. it was a pretty big party so we were sticking by each other, and when you’re drunk and your partner is there… well, yeah. i was admittedly being pretty handsy. he didn’t tell me to knock it off or anything, he was reciprocating. at some point he started talking to his best friend from highschool (19mtf, i’ll call her Z) so i reigned myself in but i was definitely still drunk and horny and being clingy. i don’t know Z all that well - she and my boyfriend are very close but she can be pretty harsh, and i appreciate all she does for him so i like her, but we never talk unless he’s there. i’ve had maybe one one-on-one conversation with this woman ever.

they’re talking. i’m also there. i’m not trying to rush him but i definitely want to get home. the conversation lulls and i take the chance to ask my boyfriend if he wants to leave soon, and because i am aforementionedly drunk and horny i drop one of those earlier pet names. before he can respond to me, Z snaps at me. she says not to call him that and that i was being a creep - this alarms me and was kind of frustrating since i wasn’t even talking to her, and i recognize i’m not in a headspace to argue? with her? so i just tell my boyfriend to come find me when he wants to leave and i wander outside. he finds me about 5-10 minutes later and we head home.

it doesn’t get brought up again that night but a day or so later i text Z to ask her what she meant by me being a creep, because it was bugging me. she says that it’s obvious i’m fetishizing my boyfriend’s gender identity, that the fact i call him those things brings up major red flags, etc. i tell her that my boyfriend doesn’t have an issue with it. she says it doesn’t matter and asks me why i want to call him those names in the first place, and posits that maybe i don’t actually want to be dating a boy - that i just like the idea of dating a boy and actually want to be with a woman. i’m gay, so this is VERY out of pocket to me. i tell her my boyfriend is not a woman and end the conversation there, but it DOES stick with me. so, very belatedly, i ask my boyfriend what he thinks of all this. i adore him so much and i hate hate hate the idea i could’ve been treating him like that, even unintentionally. he says the pet names never bothered him and he’s never felt like that, and that he’s fine with me specifically doing it because he trusts me and knows i don’t see him as a girl.

so, whatever. she has a problem but me and my boyfriend don’t. i try to move on, but the next time i see her she asks if i’ve apologized/reflected at all. i tell her no, because my boyfriend said i have nothing to apologize for and it seems like a non-issue. she is now avoiding me, refuses to be in the same room as me, and will declare to anyone who asks that she doesn’t want to be near someone who fetishizes trans people and she doesn’t feel safe around me. my boyfriend tries to talk to her but she insists i need to apologize at the bare minimum, but to who? even if i did apologize to my boyfriend i wouldn’t mean it and he wouldn’t want it. Z is his long-time best friend, i can’t exactly go the rest of our relationship just avoiding her. so i have no damn idea where to go from here.

on some level, i worry she’s right? i honestly don’t know why i started calling him those things. i think it started as a joke but i just kept doing it when i noticed he seemed to like it. in hindsight that was maybe shitty of me, but i trust him to tell me when something i do is making him uncomfortable. it’s not like i can do that over, but if he ever told me to stop i would. it’s definitely true that if you saw my boyfriend on the street you’d probably assume he’s a woman, but i’ve never been attracted to anyone who actually identifies as a woman before. i’ve only ever liked men, and no matter what he looks like he is a man. this whole situation did make me think about how i think about him, and i’ve realized that, like… i want to have kids with him one day, and ideally i’d like him to carry them. ideally, but id never make him. if he decided tomorrow that he wanted to medically transition and go the whole nine yards i’d support him. he’s my whole world, i just want him to be happy. but does the fact i want him to carry children prove her right?

i��m just. confused. i feel like i’m running myself in circles. Z knew him in highschool so she was there when bullying over his gender was at his worse, so i get why she’s protective. she’s also trans herself so she undoubtedly understands this stuff better than me. but i’ve heard it’s normal for trans people to have complicated relationships with gender, so it’s normal to be okay with gendered language from some people and not others (like only letting close friends use certain pronouns for you). i figure it’s like that, but it’s not my gender so… i don’t know. should i just stop calling him those pet names altogether, even though i know at this point he enjoys them, to be safe? am i an asshole for calling him those things in the first place / would i be an asshole if i kept doing it?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

214 notes · View notes

captainpondlilly · 5 months

Text

Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.

My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object

You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*

A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could

I don't like "lunchlad"

Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this

My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"

I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry

What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons

I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone

In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!

In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"

My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for

It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea

I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam

Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal

Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*

I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun

I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get

I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since

I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below

Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes

Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway

My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me

I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake

I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact

The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop

On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place

he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again

Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me

We're the throw up boys!*

I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison

I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee

A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died

Today I have been hit by 3 scooters

Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones

My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing

Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me

Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*

When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole

If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.

If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through

I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀

*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!

#d20 #dimension 20 #naddpod #bahumia #brian murphy #emily axford #brennan lee mulligan #gilear faeth #siobhan thompson #lou wilson #ally beardsley #dropout #spire #fantasy high #fantasy high freshman year #fantasy high sophomore year #fantasy high junior year

294 notes · View notes

dwindlinghaze · 11 months

Text

language of flowers

summary: the five times remus gave you flowers secretly and the one time you gave him not so secretly (plus extra)

contents: fluff, angst, bad writing bcs it's 1 am in ly country and i can't sleep.

a/n: my fav writing prompt so i just have to do it :) i hope u enjoy ☁️☁️☁️☁️

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

one

you walked with your arms linked with mary as you two made your way to enter the charms' classroom. it was quite sunny outside, seeing as the flowers in the meadows were blossoming prettily.

"don't you just love spring?" the girl sighed, gazing at the scenery outside the stoney windowsill miles below. "look how colourful those flowers are!"

"they sure do look unreal! like that poppy field in wizard of oz!" you replied, matching her energy.

"mhm but this one's not poisonous, i assure you!" she grinned before you two separate ways to your own assigned desks.

you made a bee line towards your table, furrowing your brows at the peculiar light pink object on your desk. you reached close enough to see that it was a carnation you had thought was a rose.

a single stem with pale pink petals. over it, sat a small folded parchment that was tied with similar coloured ribbon as the flower.

you opened it curiously, tilting your head to the side. it said:

I don't want to look at anything else now that I saw you. I don't want to think of anything else now that I thought of you. I've been sleeping so long in years of dark night and now I see daylight, I only see daylight

your heart fluttered at the messy scribbles in the palm of your hand. cheeks growing maroon as you try to hide your face behind nothing.

"watcha have there?" a blooming voice came from beside you, catching you off guard.

you jumped back a little, causing the person next to you laugh. "oh hey rem," you said in trembling words.

"hey," he replied to the greeting as he sat down beside your desk. "you've got a flower!" he smirked teasingly.

remus saw the severe blush in your cheeks, him applauding for himself inside. he was the one that gave them to you- the flower and the note. it was a giddy feeling to see how you react in such a happy way.

"someone left me a flower!" you grinned at him, showing your bright smile. "uh but i'm not sure if it's meant for me i- maybe they just put it in the wrong desk," you felt yourself deflated at the thought.

it was logical though. nobody ever seems to be interested in seeing you. let alone giving you a handwritten love letter with a carnation.

seeing the excitement fading off from you, remus spoke up abruptly, "i don't think it's in the wrong desk. this specific desk has always been your since first year. c'mon smile for me yeah? the flower is meant for you. and only for you."

you smiled at him, feeling your cheeks reddened again. a small part of you hoped that it was from remus. you liked him since god knows when but you never spoke of it. afraid of what might be as the outcome.

"thanks rem, you really know how to make people feel better," you said to him, eyes glimmered with adoration for the boy.

"what does the letter say?" he spoke softly, looking at you in curiosity.

you unfold the piece of parchment that was on your palm before reading the heartwarming words to him. "not gonna lie- i had a hard time reading it the first time," you chuckled.

remus laughed nervously, fingers gripping on his chair. he scribbled it messily on purpose in hopes of making you not know that he is the one writing it for you as for he knew you will recognise his usual handwriting in the back of you head.

you put the flower and the note inside your robe's pocket, making sure that no damage will be done.

you went to bed that night with the words repeating inside your head like a mantra. nobody has ever said such thing to you. with the carnation placed on your night table, you toss and turn in your bedsheets. hoping a certain boy who loves chocolate and books and sweaters and libraries and teas and blankets and-

two

saturday afternoons are the best time to spend in the library. nobody ever cares to even steal a glance at the large wooden doors- their minds are full of weekend spirits.

that's exactly why you went to the desolated place. reading one of your favourite muggle fiction beside the windowsill as the rain pattered on the glass, its sound calming your ears.

you finished your book in the quiet until you were completely done, getting up to get a new once since you really have nothing to do today.

mary was still sleeping. she dedicated saturdays as her 'stay in bed the whole day', therefore now you're alone. you weren't exactly close friends with lily and her friends though you talk to them once every while; your friendship was kept small.

your pointer finger ran through the spine of the books, stopping once you saw one that catches your interest. you head back to your secluded desk, only to find another flower on top of it.

your heart beat twice faster now, glancing around to see if anyone's there or not. you couldn't seem to spot anyone though.

the flower this time is not a carnation. it was a white tulip. a paper was also attached within the stem just like last time.

you read it, it was shorter than the last one:

you're a mansion with a view.

it took you an embarrassing amount of time to fully understand what it meant.

mansion with a view- beautiful inside and out.

if you had a mirror in hand right now, the reflection it shows will be you and your crimson red cheeks.

after reading that, you find it hard to avert your focus to the book in front of you. the words were like splutter of inks and has no meanings.

at last, you decided to go back to the common room, seeing what the others were doing. you bumped into someone on the way there. someone tall and smells nice and familiar. with the impact of the crash, the things inside his bag are now on the floor, scattering everywhere.

"oh i'm so sorry i wasn't looking!" you sent an apologetic glance at the person, only to find out that he's remus lupin.

"s'fine," the boy smiled, kneeling down to collect his things.

"here, let me help you," you said, picking up the ones that were more far away from him, now all of his belongings are in his bag again.

"hey, s'this yours?" he held up a small parchment.

"uh yeah," you chuckled. "funny. you remember when someone gave me a flower a few days ago? they gave me one again."

"you think it's funny?" remus furrowed his brows, secretly eager for your answer.

"well- no. it's just not typical for me to receive these stuff. i like them though. it's very sweet," you blushed.

remus adored the faint pinks in your cheeks. he was the reason for that- technically. he didn't know what to reply, afraid if he said something, his stealthiness will be exposed.

"i'm going to the common room, you comin'?" he spoke.

"yeah. i was going there too," you nodded and began walking with him to the gryffindor tower.

remus is a mansion with a view.

you felt bad for the person that wrote you the letter because you were thinking of someone else with those exact words that they wrote for you. you couldn't help but wonder who it is though. maybe by then you'd fall for them too with all the sweet compliments they give.

three

a pretty and small bundle of blue flowers was propped on your desk one morning, like it's waiting for you. a small note was also attached to it, like the usual.

your smile grew larger, trying to hide your blush with your hair as you strode to your table.

you can't lie- you've been looking forward to it. it's almost like the only thing that's been keeping you excited lately.

"ooh, you've still got a secret admirer huh?" mary snickered, pushing your side teasingly.

"mhm," you agreed mindlessly, smiling in a joking manner her way, not caring about how much you will be poked fun at.

"don't you wonder who it is?" she raised her brows.

"i do," you admitted. "if they confess to me in real life, i'm sure i will give it a try," you shrugged as you opened the small paper.

"read it aloud. i want to know how much of a hopeless romantic some people are," mary giggled.

"if all my flowers grew back as thorns, windows boarded up after the storm. i'd built a fire just to keep you warm..." you said slowly, comprehending the words.

"aw that's sweet although i've no idea what it means except the last line," mary said.

"oh shut it mary," you nudged her side, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

you hoped whoever this is, knows how much you appreciate them and should not be afraid to confess to you openly. you would be upset if this person didn't make the move because you feel like the person behind this is sweet and hopeful.

you've got a slender vase in your dorm filled with water half way up to put the flower in them to keep them alive as long as it can. these pretty blue forget-me-nots are a perfect addition to your collection.

"moony, when are you going to actually confess to her? are you going to wait until earth slipped off its axis and fell into jupiter?" sirius flopped down on remus' bed face first, groaning.

"what are you talking about. i already have," remus replied nonchalantly.

"no- pads meant like actually! not in some handwritten note that doesn't even have your name in it- let alone your initials!" james chimed in.

"that's the whole point y'know. so she doesn't find out," remus rolled his eyes.

"don't get sassy moony," sirius slapped his arm. "what if she found out that it was you all along?"

"she wouldn't."

"she would," james retorted.

"she wouldn't."

"she definitely is going to."

"no."

"your head is as thick as the hogwarts wall," sirius scoffed. "one way or another- she's going to find out about it- or at least try to."

"say, if she did find out it was you, will you two be like- i don't know- together?" james thought out loud.

"i doubt i can."

remus. remus lupin with his complicated head. he sends you flowers and love letter daily but he doesn't want to be with you? pathetic.

"why not? it's y/n we're talking about. she fancies you," james said.

"i don't know," remus said, burying himself under his blanket while also pushing sirius off of his mattress.

truth be told- it would be his biggest regret if he never spoke of his love. he would love to be loved by you or even just loving you.

somewhere in the haze, he has grown some strong feelings for you. he didn't know how it happened or when or maybe it had always been there since you two got paired up in care of magical creatures.

he grew fond of you. the little things that you do make him fall for you even more. the way he wants to be the highlight of your day, the moon in your twilight, the sunrise in your mornings. he wants it all.

he wants to know the feeling of being mutually in love. though he believed no one will ever love a monster like himself.

that part of him is slowly breaking his own heart. how could anyone ever be in love with a hybrid? how will anyone ever live with the curse of their beloved one?

even with all the reassurances in the world, he would never accept himself. it was a blessing for him to even have friends. he wondered if some miracle could be strong enough and kill the wolf inside him so he can love openly.

so he can love you without any doubt and afterthoughts.

four

monday sun rises, meaning classes are back to normal again. you were getting ready for the day, sitting on your vanity when a common barn owl dropped a stem of flower right at your lap.

a pretty pink hydrangea was there, a note slipped in between the delicate petals.

all these people think love's for show, but i would die for you in secret

your smile reached your eyes as you put the pink flower along with the other bundle of flowers from your admirer.

you were kind of in a funny situation. you wanted to always keep getting these flowers for as long as possible but you also wanted to know who this person is but also you wanted remus to give you these.

it's all silly, you know.

"rem! i got another flower!" you said giddily as you stood beside him for the first class. it was a very heart-fluffing thing to see for him. you look flushed and happy.

"yeah? this person must love you very much!" remus replied with a sly smile. it was quite a nice feeling; talking about his love for you in a third person.

"yeah..." you trailed off. a part of you had a small hope of remus being your secret admirer but he seemed to be so cool about it. he doesn't show any signs or hints. maybe he's just a good actor. "do you have any idea who might that be?"

"mmm, no," he shook his head, turning his focus on the professor ahead. "but this person better be so proud of themselves because they made you giddy. look at you! you look like a puppy in a park," he chuckled.

"oh shush," you kicked his feet softly.

you made a mental note to yourself to be cautious of your surroundings at all costs next time, especially when you're alone. you were curious to find out who the person behind this is.

many many thoughts swam through the head of yours. a certain person popping here and there too.

five

you walk with your head down.

it hasn't been a pleasant day. firstly, your shoes got stuck on the mud when you're on the way to attend care of magical creatures. secondly, you dropped your bowl of soup during lunch, ending up with you having to deal with the stickiness in your uniform skirt until class has ended because there's zero time in between each.

it wasn't a big thing really, but it was big enough to bother you for the rest of the day.

your daily flower hasn't been sent too.

that was a silly thing to think of.

you decided to have an evening stroll around the castle grounds, just to clear your head a bit. you haven't had nature walks in quite a long time.

what you didn't expect was to see a certain gryffindor boy, holding a book while scheming through the field of wild plants.

you couldn't quite catch what the book was, but you caught how calm he was. how stunning he looks under the warm orange sun.

remus looks so peaceful. like a painting. like he has no single worry in the world. (as he should)

he bent down, reaching for a pink flower. he held it with such tenderness, afraid it will be damaged.

you hid behind a tree, heart beating in anticipation.

you knew this was wrong. say if you were the one who's giving out flower to your crush secretly, you wouldn't want anyone to see.

thank god it was getting dark because now you were able to run back to the castle. breathless.

when you arrived at your dorm minutes later, you saw that same identical flower remus picked earlier on your bed.

it was a pink chrysanthemum. smells beautiful.

this one looked the prettiest compared to the rest somehow. maybe because you saw that beautiful sight of remus picking them fresh from the soil.

the note read;

i'm captivated by you, like a firework show. i see sparks fly whenever you smile.

every word now and then seemed to melt your heart a little more, knowing the person behind this.

six

it has been a few days since. the last class you were supposed to be having right now was dismissed, meaning the students have extra time before dinner.

you decided to go outside, to the field of wild plants.

you now felt somewhat guilty for dragging this- although you shouldn't really. it was remus' idea and whatever is the outcome, it will be on him but since you found out about it, you can't help but feel like you have to face remus.

tell him so he doesn't have to be a lover from afar. so he doesn't have to be hopeless and pining for god knows how long.

well, how bad can it be? you two have the same feelings to each other. nothing bad will happen right?

you don't know much about flowers but a red rose seems like the most common type of flower to give to your significant other.

you decided to pick them up, stupidly not realising that there were thorns on them.

"aah!" you hissed, dropping it on the ground. you looked at your finger, a red scratch painfully visible on your skin.

"are you okay? what happened? why are you bleeding?" a familiar voice appeared from behind you. "oh [y/n]..." remus frowned sympathetically as he grabbed your fingers. he grabbed it with such tenderness that it reminds you of how he hold that pink flower.

"m'fine, rem." you pulled your fingers but he was much stronger than you are.

remus took out his handkerchief from his pocket for him to wrap them around your scar in order to stop the bleeding. "what are you doing here?" he asked, gently caressing your hand.

"i-," you paused, taking a deep steady breath. "i wanted to give you a rose," you replied, unable to look at his face.

he dropped your hand, his mouth agape.

you can't be. there's no way....

he waited for your explanation. "i know i shouldn't but i saw you. three days ago, you were here. um, i wanted to give you a note with a flower too. uh- here," you put the folded parchment to his palms. cheeks red from embarrassment.

remus was afraid of what the note contained. it could be you rejecting his feeling or something else he couldn't quite make himself to believe.

he put the parchment inside his pocket, "let's go back."

and that was the last thing you heard from remus.

extra

it has been two days. two whole days of remus being afraid to open your note.

it was propped on his desk. untouched.

he didn't even know why he's being this complicated. of course james and sirius were right. you would find out sooner or later. you are not dumb. never.

so today, he man-ed up himself.

he reached for the parchment that was tied with a pale yellow ribbon, slowly unfolding it. he saw small doddles of yours around the edges and corners.

this sure is not a rejection letter.

he felt so ashamed. he must be putting you through a tough time right now and it's all because of his fear of being rejected.

don't you worry your pretty little mind. people throw rocks at things that shine. and life makes love looks hard. the stakes are high, the water's rough. but this love is ours.

that is the sweetest thing remus has ever read. he quickly got up from his bed. done sulking around and absolutely done with being scolded by james and sirius every hour of the day.

he will make it up to you. he will.

you on the other hand was sad, confused, and lonely at the same time. it's miserable and not magical.

you thought it would be good to give remus a rose? bad decision.

for god's sake, you didn't even know for sure that the flower he picked was for you! it could be for someone or something else. maybe that flower you received was from someone who is not remus.

maybe just the colour of the flower was the same as the one remus picked. that's it.

your thought were quickly interrupted when remus entered your space.

his eyes looked tired and hopeful at the same time. in front of him was a giant bouquet of different kinds of pink and white flowers.

"forgive me please?" he said slowly, stretching his arms forward.

"wh-"

"i'm sorry. sorry for not responding to you sooner. for keeping you in a difficult situation. i'm going to make it up, i promise."

"it's okay, you're here," you smiled at him, that sunken feeling went away.

"i am. these are for you, there's roses."

"rem- they're so pretty," you took it from him.

"like how you are-" he said, cringing at his own words. somehow when you're around, his brain seemed to lag.

you shook your head, laughing, "i love them."

"i was wondering; if you're free on saturday, would you want to go on like- a date? with... me?" he bounced his legs.

"at six?"

"yes."

"a date then."

#x reader #character x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus fluff

447 notes · View notes

rallamajoop · 3 months

Text

On Mia Winters, misogyny, and abuse

As should be pretty obvious by now, I love Mia Winters. I honestly think she’s one of the most compelling characters in this whole damn franchise.

But let me make clear: you don’t have to love her. Mia’s canonically done a lot of shady shit in her time, and her relationship with Ethan has real problems. There are perfectly viable interpretations where the only thing really holding it together is his own denial. Only I never seem to get to read any of those takes, because the most common characterisations Mia gets in fic are an irredeemable monster, or a cardboard cutout who exists only to be written out as quickly as possible. And to write Mia out to that degree doesn’t just do her character a disservice, it does Ethan a disservice, and a big one.

The amount of Mia-bashing I see out there in this fandom turns my stomach. It’s not just the slash fans who’d rather ship Ethan with another dude. I have seen Mia loudly bashed in tags on het or gen fic in which she does not even appear. I have seen male fans reviewing these games on youtube who treat her the exact same way. But it’s never more frustrating than when that hate comes from the same fans who’ll turn around and talk about characters like Chris or even Lady Dimitrescu (she who canonically abuses her and murders her servants, and, y’know, eats people without a shred of remorse) like they’re perfectly forgivable and have done no real wrong. And don’t get me wrong: I love Lady D, but I love her because she’s magnificently evil. Mia? Mia’s a whole lot more complicated.

But to really explain why this hate makes me so uncomfortable, I’m going to have to start with the start of Resident Evil 7, and Mia’s very first scenes in this whole franchise.

Let me quickly summarise the opening of that game. A man whose wife disappeared without explanation suddenly gets a message about her whereabouts. He travels to an isolated location, breaks in, and finds her. She denies ever sending him that message, and seems incredibly distressed that he’s there at all. They fight. It ends with him sinking an axe into her neck and shooting her several times with a handgun. But see, he didn’t do anything wrong! It was all self-defence! She started it! She was acting crazy!

If you didn’t spot it, the whole opening of RE7 reads uncomfortably like a story about a woman escaping an abusive relationship, then being tracked down and murdered by her ex.

Obviously, I am not here to tell you Ethan’s abusive. He’s not, we’ve got no reason to imagine he is. He was legitimately acting in self-defence.

But the fact the first thing Ethan has to do in this game is find the balls to kill his own wife ‒ that a whole new era of Resi games has opened with a sequence so easily read as a sympathetic justification for how a man might perfectly innocently track down his missing spouse and "have" to kill her – that made those opening minutes into by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole franchise for me. Shit like this really happens. I mean it, I will track down the fucking statistics on women who are murdered after trying to leave an abusive partner if I have to.

What happens to ‘Mia’ in the opening to RE8 isn’t much better: it's as textbook a fridging as any I’ve ever seen. Yes, it’s a fridging that gets retconned away later when she turns up alive, but the fact that’s even possible speaks to just how awful and confusing her death is. The game opens with Mia’s violent murder at the hands of this series’ longest running ‘hero’, and the event is framed entirely in terms of how awful it is for her husband. That's as frigid as a fridging gets.

The eventual reveal that the real Mia was just trapped alone in a cell being experimented on by a madwoman for god knows how long doesn’t actually make it better. The horror Mia goes through in both these games is a footnote, barely explored.

I bring these events up not to condemn the RE franchise, not to say that including these sequences was unconscionable, or that violence against women can never be shown in a horror title. A quick glance at my tumblr should demonstrate how much I adore these games. Tropes like fridging become problems only because they’re so ubiquitous they can come to define almost the only roles women get to play, not because any individual example is necessarily grounds for outrage. If anything, there’s just as much to analyse in all the hate thrown at characters like Ethan Winters (or his predecessor, Jonathan Harker) as a archtypical examples of sexism against men – backlash against the very idea of a male character in the disempowered role of horror victim, usually reserved for women.

But with this context in mind, my god is it uncomfortable to see people talk about Mia as irredeemable monster who deserves to suffer more. People who will valorise the likes of Chris Redfield, who didn’t even bother to stop to tell Ethan that’s not Mia, yet talk about Mia like being shot to death in her own living room was only what she deserved. That is just a whole load of yikes.

And given that both games open with Mia being violently killed by a male protagonist (twice in RE7, with the player in control), it sure is convenient how so many people have managed to ‘find’ the evidence that proves she’s the real villain. You don’t have to think too hard about Chris Redfield as a violent maniac or Ethan Winters being forced to kill his own wife if it’s okay to inflict violence on this woman. “Yes, but she shouldn’t have done [X]…” or even “But what if she’s the real abuser” is a narrative that gets thrown at real women in abusive relationships all the time – especially when the man is a friend of whoever’s casting judgement, or even a celebrity. Real world examples of this shit in the wild run the gamut from wild fan-takes on The Shining ‘proving’ that actually the abused wife was the ‘real’ abuser all along, right up to the ongoing hate campaign against Amber Heard. People don’t want to have to think badly of someone they admire, and will take any excuse to shift the blame. The stakes are infinitely lower when we’re talking about fictional characters, but the same pattern plays out.

And look, I do get it. It’s easy to go into these games and come out with a negative opinion of Mia. She’s the one who lures you into danger in RE7, acts all innocent, and then comes at Ethan with a chainsaw – and when you finally find out her big secret at the end, it turns out she was working for the people who created Eveline from the start! You’re really not given a lot of reasons to invest in Ethan and Mia’s relationship before she’s suddenly coming at him with a knife, and the fact she never does get to come clean to him in canon leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

It’s really easy to go into RE8, note all the glaring signs that Ethan’s relationship with Mia isn’t healthy, and draw your own conclusions about a woman we don’t hardly even see again for most of the runtime of the game. Half this goddamn fandom still seems to think Heisenberg is actually a lycan, ffs – most of what people think they know about Mia is more meme than fact, and the rest is pretty surface level. Basic media literacy is not exactly high out there in the tumblrweeds (let alone the rest of the internet).

But as for the idea that Mia’s responsible for all the horrors Ethan went through, people seem to forget that Mia herself went through so much worse. Ethan spent a day in the Bakers’ property, and a day in the village. Mia spent years trapped in the Bakers’ property, and days at least imprisoned in Miranda’s lab, knowing exactly how much danger her family were in, helpless to save them. She’s no innocent herself, but ye gods has she already suffered for her crimes.

So with all that out of the way, well, what’s the actual ‘evidence’ that Mia herself was abusive? No-one's coming into this one without some bias, but let’s at least give it a fair shake.

Right upfront, I want to recognise that in both fiction and reality, women can be abusers, and men can be victims. Abuse in heterosexual relationships is far more likely to occur with the man as the abuser, but the reverse does happen, and the fact culture at large can be so eager to cast the woman as the villain doesn’t make it any easier for the real male victims of abuse to get recognition and help. Society as a whole is still just really shitty about enabling or excusing real abuse.

But the idea that Mia was abusive has very little to back it up. Whatever you make of “her” interactions with Ethan at the start of the game, the fact remains: that’s not Mia, and the fact she’s acting so strangely is meant to be our clue that something much bigger than a little marital strife is going on here. Knowing all this doesn’t really make the scene where she’s violently executed less disturbing, but you can’t miss the hints we don’t yet know the full story.

So the question becomes, is there any evidence that the real Mia was abusive? I’ve dug into this one a bit before in my post about trying to figure out the timeline of exactly when Mia was replaced, but there are no definitive answers as to how long Miranda's been living in their house. To summarise a long post (and a surprisingly lively timeline of events from the days before the game begins): the most likely intent seems to be that Miranda’s been posing as Mia for less than a week, though a lot of the vibes of the scene give me the impression it’s been several weeks at least. Ultimately, that’s going to come down to your own interpretation.

The Mia mentioned in Ethan’s diary who blew up at him at the hospital could be the real Mia, but more likely isn’t: you can’t really use her to argue anything definitive, one way or another. The Mia from the flashback where Ethan gets the call from Rose’s doctor is the real Mia, but if you think getting upset when your husband brushes off your obvious distress over your daughter’s health makes you abusive, then nothing I say here is going to convince you otherwise.

The only ‘real’ evidence that Mia might be a problem is one line you might hear from Ethan while taking Rose to bed, and it is admittedly a red flag: your mother’s scary when she’s angry.

And to anyone whose whole hatred of Mia has been built backwards from this one line – especially anyone who’s grown up in a dysfunctional household themselves – hell, I get it. It is one really yikes thing for Ethan to say about his wife.

But in Mia’s defence, I can only point out that, well, yes, canonically, she is scary when she’s angry.

Oh, did I say angry? I meant fucking possessed.

And if Ethan’s bringing up the spectre of that time, even subconsciously, maybe that should be an even bigger clue that the Mia in this house right now isn’t Mia.

But what really shows this line for what it is is that we’ve seen the real Mia angry. We’ve seen her cold fury at Eveline, daring to go right back to asking ‘can we be a family now?’ within hours forcing Mia to assault her own husband with a chainsaw. We’ve seen her frustration at Ethan’s own denial, and we’ve seen her stalk out of the room when he blows off an important conversation for a call from work. We’ve seen her advance on Chris after he shut her down, demanding, Where is my husband? Where is my daughter?!

We have never seen her angry without real justification. Her anger is neither violent nor disproportionate. It’s consistently purposeful, focused, and contained. There is nothing scary about the real Mia’s anger, unless you’re threatened by the very idea she might have something valid to be angry about.

There is evidence of tension in the Winters’ marriage from before Miranda’s arrival, but it takes a very different form – most evident in the flashback scene where Ethan receives the call from Rose’s doctor. Far from Miranda’s brusque, dismissive copy of her, the real Mia is anxious and depressed, scared of what Rose’s results might reveal. Here, Ethan’s the one brushing her concerns aside (“We talked about this […] Rose is fine!”) He recognises there seems to be something Mia’s not telling him, says they should talk about it, but then immediately brushes the conversation off when he gets a call from work, while Mia storms out of the room.

You can certainly read Mia as a hypocrite here, getting angry at Ethan for not knowing things she’s deliberately kept from him. But it’s Ethan who decides a call from work is more important than a conversation with his wife – someone who is obviously distressed, canonically still on a regime of drugs after the traumatic events of RE7, very likely suffering PTSD along with Ethan, and maybe even some form of postpartum depression. We don’t know anything about Ethan’s work, so there’s no point in speculating about how much he ‘needs’ to take that call. Mia’s no clear villain here – quite the opposite.

Personally, I tend towards taking this scene as evidence that Mia has tried to talk to Ethan about what really happened to him, but hasn’t managed to get him to face the truth. For all that Ethan supposedly wants to talk about the past, it’s a defining plot point that he’s badly in denial himself.

Or they could both be at some fault here: Ethan unwilling to face the truth, while Mia is reluctant to force him to face something she knows will hurt him and bring him distress. Even when Mia says outright that she ‘tried to keep this a secret, but…’ to Chris at the end of the game, the implication is as much that she’s tried to keep it a secret from people like Chris, who might decide Ethan is dangerous. She’s lied to protect him before, and if she’s still lying to him about her past with the Connections, then the fact that knowing the truth will hurt Ethan is obviously among her reasons. Protecting Ethan has always been among Mia’s top priorities ‒ even at her own expense.

The only other real hints we get about Mia’s inner life come from the glimpses of her we get in Donna’s domain. But I’m hesitant to read too much into these, given how unclear it is how much is just a manifestation of Ethan’s own anxieties. If anything, the ‘Mia’ in these scenes almost seems to have some far worse secret than simply having not told Ethan something he really ought to have put together on his own, and I’d kind of love to see that explored too – at least as long as that goes somewhere more interesting than round umpteen of ‘and that’s why Mia sucks’.

But my point here isn’t that you have to read any of these scenes the same way I do. I do think it’s important to recognise that nothing written for a game like RE is truly character-driven; scenes exist to serve the plot far more than to reflect consistent character motivations or hold up to fridge logic (which, let’s face it, is the real reason for most of Chris’ horrific behaviour in this game, let alone anyone else’s). The result is rarely super consistent, and leaves ample space for multiple interpretations of anyone’s motivations. Regardless, the idea there’s any hard evidence that Ethan and Mia’s relationship is dysfunctional, or that whatever’s wrong is Mia’s fault alone, is going to be incredibly hard to justify.

Any assertion that Ethan and Mia are somehow on the verge of divorce also needs to be weighed against the masses of evidence of how much they love each other – the number of times Mia has said she loves Ethan, up to and including (yes, I’m bringing this up again) how ready she is to die for him in RE7. Her speech to Chris at the end of RE8 states explicitly that being together with Ethan and Rose is the only thing that matters to her. “Mia, I’m sorry, I love you,” are some of the last words Ethan ever speaks – and I can’t help but read into how the moment he finally pushes Rose into Chris’ arms so they can get away with him weighing them down is right after he learns that Mia is alive, and thus implicitly that Rose won’t be alone if Ethan doesn’t make it. And good god does that scene break my heart every time.

It’s worth recognising that the fact Ethan and Mia love each other doesn’t inherently mean their relationship is healthy, or that you have to love them together as much as I do. Like I said up top, you don’t have to like Mia, and you don’t have to justify not liking her if you don’t. I would genuinely like to see fics where Mia and Ethan’s supposedly-necessary break up feels in character. Where Ethan loves her but just can’t deal with the resentment and the fallout over all the lies she told him, where he's been clinging to his 'happy ending' with Mia after surviving the Bakers so hard he can't face the fact things just aren't working, or where he’s having to face that their relationship only ever really worked because she was away so much. It will break my heart, but fiction is allowed to do that.

But god, it would be nice if people could just take the bashing below an eleven around this place. The number of times I’ve had to sigh and back-button out of reading something, because yet another author has decided to project their own hatred for Mia onto the husband who’s still reeling from watching her being violently murdered in front of him… it gets fucking old, y’know?

I would really like to think that in the year of our lord 2024, fandom would be a bit past this thing where they bash the canonical female love interest in the name of shipping the hero with another dude. People will bend over backwards to try and cast Heisenberg and Chris as guys who really care about consent and worry about Ethan getting hurt, because heaven forbid anyone be caught shipping something slightly problematic. And yet misogyny still somehow gets a pass.

You do not have to love Mia. You don’t even have to like her. But ye gods, the hate she gets is baseless and absurd.

Hasn't this poor woman suffered enough?

(And on that note, I promise I am finally done soapboxing in defence of Mia Winters, thank you for bearing with me for this long.)

#Mia Winters #Ethan Winters #mithan #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 7 #RE lore #meta #Mia Winters week

122 notes · View notes

duchess-of-mandalore · 1 year

Text

I cannot tell you how over-the-two-moons-of-Mandalore I am about the Bo-Katan we got in “The Mines of Mandalore.” While I was hoping they’d treat her character with nuance and not make her a villain, I did expect that they’d immediately set her up as an antagonist to Din’s story. I also expected that we’d pick up in Season 3 with a Bo who was angry, frustrated, despondent, rude, and impulsive and I was ready to defend every one of those emotions.

I never expected the Bo we got in this episode.

She’s fierce and tough, depressed and hurting, but then we also get these sad smiles and longing looks and these beautiful moments where her gentler side comes through.

She’s wields the Darksaber with skill and precision and the expertise that comes with both practice and willingness to connect with the saber the way Kanan taught Sabine to do. That’s her sword.

But she’s honorable. She could have killed Din (or at least let him die) several times over. She could have taken the Darksaber. She could be bitter about the fact that he has it.

Instead, we see her wield the Darksaber as an expert, and then place it back on the ground with the rest of Din’s weapons.

I was scared we’d get a Bo that disregarded her character development in Rebels, but she’s proven that she’s still committed to fighting honorably for her people, just as she told Sabine to do.

And she’s just so ... beautifully soft.

We saw Bo be soft so rarely in TCW and Rebels, but Katee is leaning into giving Bo that gentle side.

Her immediate concern when Grogu shows up alone and willingness to go find his dad even though at first she’d been like “It’s Din Djarin. Let’s get rid of him once and for all.”

Each and every time she talks to Grogu, she’s so tender and calm. She encourages him when he’s scared and pushes his pram out of the way when she senses danger. She talks to him and knows he understands and tells him at least generally about the connection she’s had to Jedi in her life.

(In short, Bo loves babies!)

The way Grogu looks at her tells me he already likes and trusts her.

Plus she’s saved his dad several times now.

To be clear, I’m sure there’s going to be tension going forward, and I don’t expect Bo to always act as calmly and nobly as she did in this episode. She can be catty and rude and violent and I love that those are all parts of her character, too.

But I also think it’s already clear that in terms of her desires for her people, this former terrorist is done fighting over petty differences. She doesn’t dismiss Din even though he’s a part of a group she considers a cult (and she would know) because he’s still her people. And she’s still has no higher desire than the reunification of her scattered people and for them to be able to live in peace in spite of their long history of (and her own participation in) civil wars.

“I am not my sister.”

No, but Bo-Katan is currently more like her than she ever has been.

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #The Clone Wars #Star Wars Rebels #Bo-Katan Kryze #Din Djarin #Grogu #Satine Kryze #Duchess Satine #The Mandalorian Season 3 #The Mandalorian Season 3 Spoilers #Mando Spoilers #The Mines of Mandalore #In Defense of Bo-Katan #In Defense of Satine #The Kryze Sisters #Katee Sackhoff

784 notes · View notes

lex9923 · 2 months

Text

Tw// SA

This will be my one and only official statement on this situation, because frankly I’m done with all of this mental hopscotch happening.

I am a sexual assault victim. I was the same age as Caiti is now when it happened, and I was cornered with his hands down my pants touching my vagina and up my shirt touching my boobs, while I tried to get away and make it stop. I still to this day don’t know who my attacker was, but it will follow me for the rest of my life. It’s been five years since then, and my story has not changed once. Not ever. I hadn’t told people for a couple years cause I thought since I didn’t know who my attacker was, I wouldn’t be believed. As well as the fact that I came forward about a sexual harassment I faced at a job and was met with “well, boys will be boys”. Through it all, I am here, and I survived.

Watching the reaction to this situation from both of the main parties involved, those who weren’t there, those who were, and the fans had sent me spiraling. I’ve spent the past two weeks reliving that trauma from five years ago cause I thought I misinterpreted my assault as something else. I had not, and never have. It’s been incredibly invalidating watching the alleged “victim” change the story multiple times, make fake texts, omit important information, all while not even listening to the person she accused of a criminally offensive act.

Caiti is absolutely allowed to feel uncomfortable and regret what happened after the fact, but it is not, and will not ever be assault-unless George actually did touch her boobs, and then that will be a different discussion, but with her credibility disappearing, I’ll only believe it if he admits it himself. I’m trying to extend grace to her being young, sexually inexperienced, and caught up in online culture, but it’s hard the longer this gets dragged out. There are things you do when approaching a situation like this:

1. You absolutely need to provide evidence and proof of your claims. You can’t prove something that never happened, but you can prove something that did. It’s why it’s innocent until proven guilty. Expecting people to blindly believe you is delusional at worst and ignorant at best.

2. You must absolutely have your story 100% correct and factual to how you perceived what happened, before bringing forth any accusations. Using purposefully charged language and then changing the story to match the one you accused is not it. Nor is changing your story yet again when people are catching on to the inconsistencies.

3. Allow the accused person to defend themself. You can’t expect people to listen to all of your claims-most of them blindly doing so-and then get upset when people wait for both sides to say their piece, especially when you present no evidence at your initial statement. Again, you have to prove guilt. If you can’t prove it, the accused are allowed to defend themself.

4. You are in no way obligated to accept apologies, but acknowledging one was made-multiple times in fact- is the bare minimum. Trying to change your story one last time to make it seem even worse than what you both agreed upon, and then hiding behind “I’m not going to address this anymore” is manipulative at worst and cowardly at best.

I hope Caiti gets therapy, cause it’s clear she’s been severely affected by something, though I’m not sure she even knows what it is. I also hope she learns from this, and next time utilizes the “direct message” function every single app has. This could have been a dm, and the way it spiraled has been a shitshow and her intentions are coming off less and less pure the more this gets dragged out. I’m so sorry she was uncomfortable, and regretful, but until she shows any proof whatsoever of any assault happening, it will never be. I hope she heals, and I hope she gets better friends cause they have all failed her.

For George, I’m sorry this got blown so out of proportion and no one even privately talked to him about any uncomfortability being felt. I’m sorry his friends are performative. I’m hopeful that he was made aware of things he wasn’t before, and will do better next time. He is not irredeemable, and I believe growth is possible (the difference in his two responses proves as such). I hope this isn’t the last we see of him or his content, and I hope he can heal from this as well.

To my fellow SA survivors, I’m so incredibly sorry that our trauma has been thrown around like this. Our hurt and pain do not deserve to be mocked in this way, and I wish it would’ve never even happened. You’re stronger than what happened, regardless of how shitty this situation has been for us. And as a 24 year old, I like to consider myself a big sister of sorts, so I love all of you. We got through it then, we’ll do it again.

Speaking woman to woman, I’m sorry this has been so messed up. This will make it harder for us to come forward in the future and that is indescribably frustrating. However, that does not take away from the pain and hurt we went through, and I hope if you do have the strength to come forward, you are believed.

I’m done with this whole situation. It should not have come to this point, and if you stayed this far, I greatly appreciate you reading this. One last time. Caiti, I’m sorry you were so uncomfortable. Get therapy, better friends, and take a break from the internet. George, I hope you learn from this situation, and I’m sorry you were made out to be a criminally offensive person before giving your side or anyone ever speaking to you.

I hope you both heal.

I hope sexual assault victims having to relive trauma, and are affected by this continue to heal.

I love you all.

Lex

106 notes · View notes

day-drawn-blog · 7 months

Text

Part II : Slow burn ❤️‍🔥

Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

I feel your breath on my neck, the soft caress as cold as death

Your blood like wine, I want it in, oh darling make me drink and make me feel

- I want to live

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- Set in Act I

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

Part IV : There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V : Our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : These ain't my sins, I'm not to blame

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours

Part VIII: your blood like wine invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

---------

Next day, you woke up early and you remembered the rollercoaster your heart had been through. And your little secret. Ah, you almost forgot. So caught up were you in your pining you ignored the safety of those around you, and the resolve you had made last night to help and protect those around you. And right now, nothing posed more of a threat than a blood sucking vampire posing as an ally. You did not quite trust him yet. After all, you did not know him well at all.

You left your tent, resolved to confront him.

To settle this issue as best as you can on behalf of those innocent of his real identity. You spotted him next to his tent. His messy curls, even more disheveled in the morning. But his countenance brighter than yesterday. You wondered if it was the effect of the favor you did him. Somehow a part of you felt happy, that you made a difference to him.

You broached the subject.

"Can we talk?" He looked up surprised. "About your... condition. I was curious how we were going to feed you from now on."

His eyes widened.

I guess he did not realize you would confront him about this first thing in the morning. But it has to be done, sooner the better. Before everyone else wakes up. "How... how are you?" He managed, flustered. At least he has it in him to be polite and ask, you thought. You approved of his shallow charm. Now to the point.

"I am alright. But I am worried." "You have my word. I will never put any of us in harm's way. And if I ever do, I will ask, first" he flashed his cheeky grin. You almost gave in. And then suddenly, rustling behind him, startled you both.

Shadowheart walked out of his tent.

You were completely blindsided, Astarion was more embarassed and looked away.

Shadowheart was surprisingly, normal. "Good morning. Are you guys planning breakfast? I heard talks about a meal, or something... " she drawled in her usual charming manner.

"Ah yeah.. something like that.."

you managed to say, and decided to drop it. Before your heart shattered into pieces again, you decided, you walk away.

You wished you could leave them at camp.

So you didn't have to be distracted by those two as you navigated such dangerous lands. But, you all always travelled together and at least there will be other people, to distract you, from Shadowheart and Astarion's intimate moments together, where he held out his hands, to help her on a step. Or she cast her guidance and radiance to protect him, or where he took out a threat with his sneak attack before they ambushed her.

You felt weaker in combat that day.

Several times, Karlach had to protect you. You almost got knocked down, and she had to help you up. Thankfully Wyll had your back too. You felt terrible how much you let this matter get to you. Back at camp, exhausted, and down to your last breath, you decided to put him out of your head once and for all. You needed to wash up, and rest.

This was not serving you.

As you sat in your tent that night, going over the events of the day. You felt tears come up. You wanted to be the one being protected. Looked after..by him. To be important enough.

To be valued and loved, by him.

Dammit. Why should you put him on a pedestal like this. Better start thinking really hard how you could avoid that from happening again. This was your only way. Should you ask them to stay behind at camp the next day? No ..you need every ally you can get fighting for your life.

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. You were confused, you thought everyone had gone to bed early that night, tired from all the ambush you had faced that day. So who was it? And why were they coming inside your tent?The tent flaps parted, and you saw a familiar tall silhouette.

You stopped breathing in surprise.

You both stared at each other for a few moments before he broke silence. "I am sorry to disturb your rest, the hour is late. Terribly, and truly" and it seemed like he was second guessing himself and walking back out again. Then he stopped and turned around "You see, this was my first.. I had never drank from a ...thinking creature before. Cazador... my master, would only ever let me feed on rats. "

Where was he going with this?

"Would you be so kind, as to grant me this favor one more time? I completely understand if you don't want to, and this is, well very embarrassing for me to admit" You could see his ears turn red as he shiftily looked anywhere but at you. "But ever since last night, I have not been able to forget... how you tasted". "I could do anything for one more time...please?" And he looked at you with his eyes full of endless misery, that familiar pleading voice and gaze...

You were weak against that but you were annoyed.

Who does he think he is. Does he think himself so charming that he can just waltz into your tent, demanding you donate your blood for free while he went back to Shadowheart right after? You did want to be the hero to those that needed you, but this is just taking advantage of you. You liked him a little less at that point. You were fully resolved to turn him down. After all, this felt wrong, not just to you, but to Shadowheart as well.

You got up.

"I am afraid, Astarion, I will have to turn you down tonight. Isn't Shadowheart waiting for you? What will she think of your absence?"

"She doesn't know. No one does. And I would like to not tell everyone, as long as I can, if you help me. You are the only one, who knows. And if everyone were to find out, I am afraid they would not show me the kindness you did. I would be cast aside. And left to fend for myself."

For all the outward intimacy between him and Shadowheart, you realized, they were not after all, close at heart. What did you expect. Did you expect him to be someone that would allow himself to fall in love with someone or genuinely love and care for someone other than himself? Your first impression of him, was right. The suave and snooth bad boy, with a thousand charms was after all, just that.

You sighed.

Battling with your moral dilemma. You wanted to cave, and earn his trust even more, and maybe a bit of affection. But was that really the right way to go about it. To exploit his weakness? You couldn't. You needed to save everyone. Even the ones that were too proud to admit they needed saving. You sighed again.

"Astarion, I would like to help you. However I cannot, be your only source of.. sustenance. This will affect me in battle. And I thought we agreed you would feed on our enemies, since they are as good as dead, as you said."

If he was disappointed he did not let it show.

"But of course. I only just wanted a little bit. You wouldn't even feel it. I promise. It will be a gift, that I will never forget" He looked at you with his intense gaze that sometimes betrayed the storm raging inside him you suspected. "I understand..." His countenance fell. He was pained. "Have a good sleep. I'll see you around in the morning" And he turned to leave.

"Wait"

Dammit. You cannot turn him down. Or anyone. When they genuinely seem to need your help. But did Astarion really need you? Or was he being greedy? Were you being deceived? Probably. Behind the facade of one who seeks your help is someone simply using you. You felt that. And yet, you were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame.

"Yes, you can...again, tonight. Only a little bit"

"Really? You would?" Genuine surprise in his voice. He quickly stepped in and drew the tent flaps shut. He took your hand and suddenly took the lead. Taking you to the back, gestured to you to sit. You sat down, he knelt in front of you, lifted your arm like last time, with both his hands, gave it a kiss, and looked at you one more time, as if to ask for your permission one last time, and when you nodded, proceeded to bear his fangs at which you looked away.

It didn't hurt, nor did it last longer than a few minutes. Afterwards he drew away, and sat down next to you, as if sated to his utmost. A grin across his face like last time. you looked at your wrist, and the two little dots where his fangs had pierced your skin. The ones from last night were fading. Tonight's red. He looked at you looking at your wrist. "Does it hurt?" He seemed...guilty.

"Let me wrap it"

He proceeded to tear a bit of linen from somewhere nearby and tie it around the bite marks. Hiding your doing, I see. This is no act of kindness. You felt your resolve melt. You felt glad to have been of use to him. But also sad, he was about to leave. And go back to shadowheart. You had served your role. He had used you, and no longer needed you.

Thank you ...you whispered to him

Part III : Maybe tonight, I'll rest in peace

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #fluff #astarion angst #emo

160 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

Am I the asshole for getting mad at my mom for finishing my baking for me?

For context I love baking, but hardly ever eat the finished product myself. This is because I bake for the fun of it and I have plenty of family and friends that like eating what I make so it's never a waste.

I've been making some cinnamon rolls recently and the several batches I've made my mom comes in and bakes them before I can. It's not that she just preheats the oven and puts em in after they finish rising, she literally does everything after the initial dough has risen. She'll roll it out before it has time to rise the first time, add 1/3 of the butter and sugar I use, cut it into 1/2 inch-1 inch, and/or not let it finish rising the 2nd time once it's in the pan. Of the last 4 attempts 3 came out overcooked and hard.

She does this with a lot of my baking where I'll make the dough and be able to do nothing else cause she goes in and does literally everything else in the baking process. I've asked her multiple times to stop because what's the point if I'm not the one doing it? I've told her it takes all the fun out of it and there's no point in me baking if she's just gonna do all of it. She'll either respond with her saying she's sorry and she'll stop doing it (then proceed to finish my next batch) or say it's better if she does it cause I don't know what I'm doing and would fuck it up (she uses nicer words but also a several minute lecture on how prideful I am so that's the gist). And yeah, half the things I make it would be better, but I'll never get better if she keeps doing this and it's not like what I'm making is bad. And the other half the things I make don't taste better! It usually ends up in the trash cause no one wants to eat it. And if I can't get my family to eat it I'm not taking it to work for my friends to try. But even if everything I made tasted better when she makes it that's not the point!

Yesterday I made some more dough for cinnamon rolls and let it rise overnight. I woke up today and was gonna finish them before work but they were already out of the oven. She was telling me how she finished them for me and I sort of just hummed in acknowledgement. She kept pushing and it was clear she was looking for a thank you but I just said she didn't use as much butter and sugar I usually did. She said "yeah well how am I supposed to know how much you use on there?" And I just walked away after. She came later and said "you're welcome for finishing those for you. I even got it done before you had to go to work" and I said "I didn't thank you" when she got mad I yelled and said "stop touching my shit! I've told you before there's literally no point in me making anything if you're just gonna take the fun out of it!"

Now she's mad and I feel bad cause I was very passive aggressive with her and I probably shouldn't have yelled but I'm tired of this conversation every time I bake.

Aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

158 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Forget-Me-Not 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You walk out of the bank, tempted to have your lunch at The Horn. You're certain they'd serve it up nice and foamy in a pint. Never the matter, you were never a drinker. Sins of the mother and all that.

You get into the front seat and sit for a minute, contemplating what to do. If you leave the land as it is, burn that shitheap down, drive off into the sunset, well, who will care about what some dead crone owed the bank? That's not how it works. You might think little of shared blood but a name is a name to the powers that be.

You shove your key in the ignition and turn. Your engine cranks and sputters but doesn't roll over. You frown. You just had it serviced before you drove out here. Oils filled, everything was tiptop, so the mechanic said. No lights, no dinging. You try again, twisting harder, but it doesn't catch. You let go as the car quiets.

A slap on the roof makes you jump and you look out the window at the figure right outside. Thor Odinson bends, grinning at you through the glass as he gives a wink. You don't believe in coincidences, especially not in Hammer Ford. You ignore him and give it another go; third time is the charm.

Nothing. Just a puff of exhaust and rattle. Fuck!

"Ah, don't worry, sweetheart," Thor raises his voice so you can hear him through the glass, "I'll take you 'round Vol's--"

"Fuck off," you hit the switch, ensuring the locks are down.

He laughs, "you know, I don't think I ever heard you speak before."

You shake your head and scowl, peering around. Several people watch but quickly put their heads down and continue on their way. Just like it always was. Fucking cowards.

"I see why he likes you--"

"Piss off!" You flip two fingers up in his direction, "now!"

"What? I'm tryna help you out. Sounds like your transmission," he taunts, "or maybe... you got some gravel in the gas tank. Shit, you know, that'll ruin your lines--"

"God! Would you just leave me alone?" You roar as you hit the steering wheel, "you and your fucking family."

"My mother gave me this cheque..." he reaches in his pocket and unfolds a slip, "has your name on it... and would you look at that? She left the amount blank."

You ignore him and grit your teeth. They think you're that girl who could be sold for a sixer and a couple bills. They don't know anything. They don't know you.

You reach over to the glove box and pop it open. You reach inside and take out the bottle of glass cleaner you keep there. You flip the lock up and he steps back, a victorious hum as you open the door just a hair. You aim the nozzle up and spritz him in the eyes.

"Is that clear enough for you!?" You snap the door shut again and thump the lock down with your fist.

He cries out and wipes his eyes furiously. You sneer as you watch him growl and his. He pulls his shirt up to mop at his face and finally stands, blinking furiously. He sends his fist into the glass, shattering it as you yipe. You shield yourself, reading for the next one, but he merely stumbles away.

"You've done it now," he snarls, "just you fucking wait."

"I will be," you holler, "just you come around and see."

He staggers away, groaning as he continues to fuss with his eyes. You watch him in the rearview before you lean back and stare at the lifeless meters in the dashboard. Rest in peace, mom, you left me a whole lot of shit, didn't you?

🏚

You grab the tire iron and leave your car behind. You have no other choice but to make the long trek back to your mother's shack. You get a few looks from passerbys on the main strip, their eyes lingering on the heavy tool in your hand. You're not stupid or weak like them. You're ready to fight back.

You keep your eyes set ahead of you as you crest the first hill. You always hated how this village only ever seemed to be up. You weave around the country roads and turn off into the trees as the sun dips below the treelines. You're tired and sore but not done. You still have a ways to go.

As you come through the canopy that opens to your mother's house, you feel the coolness in the air tingling in your fingers. The chill in your spine is from more than the late cast of a spring afternoon. You grip the iron tight as you stare up at the open door.

You swing around at the kick of a pebble. The iron meets only air as you twirl all the way around. No one's there. You back up, searching the trees. No, someone is there.

A snicker rolls up through the forest. It's him. He's watching you. You won't back down, not this time. You squint into the shadows. Where is that snake?

"Oh my, are we scared?" Loki's hiss crawls up your spine.

You spin again to find another void.

"Don't you remember our game..." he taunts. "Perhaps this time, you might win..."

"Go away!"

"Ten..." He calls out, "nine..."

Your heart races as your eyes tinge. You remember that girl, lost in the trees, listening to him count down, to his pursuit rustling through the leaves behind her. You feel the crash of the ground against your chest and the river water flooding into your mouth. You can't breath as you're trapped beneath another, rutting and ramming, snarling as he snickers in your ear.

"three..." you come back to the present, "two..." you whip around, "one!" You spin the iron and jab it backwards around your side.

He grunts and staggers back as you stumble forward away from his grasp. Loki falters as he grasps his stomach, a clot of red blooming on the inside.

"Shit..." he spreads the fabric, showing the gash. Not deep enough. You hold the iron tighter and raise it again. He chuckles and shakes his head as he looks up at you, "oh darling, you should know by now..." he smirks, "I don't play fair."

Suddenly, you're taken off your feet from behind, a thick arm around your neck and another around your middle. You thrash with tire iron only to be thrown away from the body behind you, hitting a tree so hard you're left breathless. You drop the iron as Loki moves to sweep your feet from under you and Thor brings his foot down onto your chest. You cough as you stare up at the brothers.

Everything stays the same in Hammer Ford.

#au #series #marvel #mcu #backwoods au #forget-me-not #loki #dark loki #loki x reader #dark!loki #avengers #thor

94 notes · View notes

c0sm1c-c01nc1dence · 2 months

Text

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

#toh hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter x you #x reader #toh x reader #the owl house #hunter toh x reader #golden guard x reader #hunter toh #the owl house x reader #toh hunter #toh fanfic

82 notes · View notes