#she forces him to go outside and do things with her and he berates her
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in honor of raphael leaving, here is a compilation of him hating every second there <3
also
not even a day later </3
#ts4#sims 4#sims#simblr#daisy#i loved him ;-;#THANK U ORPHYD#hes going to stay in my game and have a love hate relationship with daisy <#<3#she forces him to go outside and do things with her and he berates her#the last one is after she took him hunting and he came back with a moodlet saying basically#why did i go?? why did i do that??#aaron by elysiantrait#hes the one that eventually beat him in pingpong#raphael by orphyd#also i think aarons facial hair is growing and i cant go in cas yet because theres more than 8 sims#AND itll delete any extras if i do#;-;
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peer pressure || lucy bronze x teen!reader (platonic) ||
things don't go as planned when you sneak out for a party, so you call lucy to pick you up.
you knew better than to sneak out. you knew that it wasn't worth the consquences that would be coming from all sides of your life. however, you wanted to feel like a normal teenager for once in your life. for so long, you had been doing everything that you were told in the hopes that they'd all be proud of you.
if it wasn't for alexia chewing you out at practice, you probably wouldn't have gotten the bright idea of coming out. yelling back at your captain had not been the right move, and once your parents were notified of that, you were in for it at home. they had berated you about respect and how easy it would be for barcelona to decide that they didn't want you playing for them.
you had never been to a party before, and in all honesty, you had come with the hope that your neighbor would notice you. she was the most beautiful girl that you had ever seen in your entire life. the embarrassing crush you had developed on ingrid seemed like nothing whenever you first spoke to enya. she had been living across the street from you for some time, but the two of you hadn't spoken until recently.
"(y/n), you came!" enya seemed excited to see you. she grasped your hands in hers and leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek. your skin flushed at the contact, heating up at the fact that she had nearly kissed you on the lips. "come on, i've got someone i want you to meet."
"okay," you said as you followed her further into the party. immediately, you hated the atmosphere. it was loud, smelled like smoke and alcohol, and the flashing lights made your head hurt. you had never been in an environment like that before, and it wasn't one you could see yourself in often.
"who is this?" in front of you sat two guys. one of them you had caught glimpses of before, but you had never seen the other one before. the one that you had seen before was speaking, a slightly annoyed look on his face that told you he knew who you were.
"this is my neighbor, (y/n). she's the soccer player," enya said. the boy you didn't know perked up immediately. he smiled at you, and if you were into boys, he would have been your type. "(y/n), this is pedro, and my boyfriend, elias."
"nice to meet you." you forced a smile as you shook their hands. your months of media training came in handy, but not in the ways you thought it would.
"can i get you a drink?" pedro asked as he stood up. he towered over you quite a bit, but there was something unthreatening about him. you nodded, missing the way that enya excitedly nudged her boyfriend. the two of you weren't really friends, but you had spent a little bit of time together talking. enya seemed to be very interested in why you didn't go to school like everyone else.
pedro came back with your drink a few moments later, and you were grateful that it was in a sealed bottle. you hung around their little group having a few drinks until elias pulled out a bong. barcelona drug tested quite often, and if you didn't pass, you'd never hear the end of it. you moved to get up, but enya placed her hand on your thigh to keep you in your seat.
"come on, one hit won't hurt," enya said. if it wasn't for the way that she was looking at you, you probably would have been strong enough to walk away. instead, you sat there and let them pass it around. enya seemed to realize that you cared more about spending time with her than pedro because she slowly slipped into his place next to you. she helped you with hitting the bong and making sure that your hand was never without a drink.
"maybe let's slow down a bit," elias laughed uneasily. enya shot him a nasty glare, but he seemed persistent. he nodded towards pedro, who helped you up onto your feet to get some air outside. you couldn't walk on your own, and all of the movement had you throwing up outside of the house by the steps. "goddamn it en, i knew she couldn't hang."
"whatever, let's just get back inside," enya said. she pulled both her boyfriend and his friend back inside, leaving you outside on your own. you were terrified out there on your own, unsure of who you could call. your parents were out of the question because technically, you were still grounded. you couldn't call alexia because she would have killed you for sneaking out to go to a party. it was in the midseason, which meant that she expected everybody to be smart about their decisions. finally, your brain settled on calling lucy, who seemed most likely not to ask you too many questions.
"jesus christ kid, do you know what time it is?" lucy hadn't let the call ring more than twice. unbeknownst to you, your parents had come into your room to check on you, only to find you gone. they knew that you liked going out on walks to clear your head, so they hadn't panicked like they wanted to. if you did decide to go to a teammate's house, they'd find out about it in the morning.
"could you please come and get me? i'm not having fun, i don't want to be here anymore." lucy shot up in her head at the obvious slur of your words. she managed to find you pretty easily, but still stayed on the phone with you the whole time.
"hey kid, did they leave you out here by yourself?" lucy asked as she scooped you up off of the steps. you nodded, instantly regretting it as a wave of nausea washed over you. lucy held your head back as you threw up in the grass before you got into her car. the usual gests that she would have had driving home other drunk teammates died before they made it to her mouth. she was just concerned about taking care of you.
"thank you for getting me," you muttered as you leaned against lucy's body. she gave up with trying to help you up the stairs, opting instead to just carry you. lucy wasn't quite sure what you needed, so she helped you change into some shorts and a tank top before letting you take her bed for the night. "where's oni?"
"ona went home already," lucy told you as she tucked you in. she started to walk away, but was stopped when you let out a particularly pathetic little whine. "what's wrong?"
"i'm scared. will you stay with me? nobody's going to love me tomorrow," you told her. lucy sighed as she turned around and pulled the comforter back to lay next to you. "will you tickle my back like my mami does? it feels nice."
"i don't know how your mami does it," lucy pointed out. you were quick to grab her hand and place it on your back. lucy got the gist pretty quickly, and despite her awkwardness about it, you still found it very soothing. you quickly drifted off to sleep in lucy's arms, not even stirring a little when she called your parents to let them know where you were. she sighed heavily, knowing that she'd have to call alexia next because it seemed that your parents hadn't cared much that you were gone. she just had to hope that alexia didn't get too mad when she came to pick you up the next morning.
#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#teen reader#platonic fic
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Hey! Your writing is stellar!
Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.
Thank you!! xoxo
Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉
The Reason
Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.
A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.
Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰
Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them.
Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure.
There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you.
“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”
With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face.
“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you.
“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back.
Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”
“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes.
“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside.
Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip.
***
Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it.
He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground.
They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons.
You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen.
“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground.
“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front.
“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins.
You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse.
“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse.
It’s there.
Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head.
“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this.
***
Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand.
“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound.
“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”
His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now.
“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention.
“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”
She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering.
You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”
You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.
Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”
He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”
He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt.
Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain.
“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand.
“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders.
His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin.
He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving.
The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you.
Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths.
“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in.
“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”
***
You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings.
It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin.
The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you.
“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.”
With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”
“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?”
“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him.
You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake.
“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”
Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly.
“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing.
“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze.
“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head.
“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you.
“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him.
“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no.
With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.
***
“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening.
He was having a nightmare.
Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him.
“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms.
You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”
His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying.
His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks.
“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”
“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”
“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face.
“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.”
“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat.
“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”
You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out.
“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance.
“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases.
You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check.
The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him.
“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.
“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.
His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart.
“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him.
Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.”
***
The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him.
“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”
Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.”
Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”
“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”
Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear.
“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually.
***
The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate.
God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table.
“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach.
“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him.
“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both.
He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying.
“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her.
“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen.
You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms.
You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.”
His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt.
“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer.
“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you.
His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.
“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers.
“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed.
He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing.
You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers.
His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds.
You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much.
“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.”
Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.
“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling.
Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear.
“Ready for me darlin’?”
You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you.
“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips.
It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier.
A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets.
“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass.
“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed.
The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close.
“I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face.
“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you.
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#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller tlou au
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Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 8
Chapter Seven: Because of You
Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.
Word Count: 5.4K
Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, joel actually cares :0, just fucking sad shit tw: trauma from abusive mother, description of child abuse
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I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes. I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life. My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with.
Joel and Tommy returned soon after you passed on the question. They expected some resistance or some smart comment but you accepted the meal with a noise of thanks and eyed the medicine Joel provided but took it regardless.
Ellie was quickly berated by both Miller brothers to understand what the sudden calm behavior came from and clearly, the young girl had something to do with it. “I just talked to her?” That was her response and it was the truth. A single conversation with the young girl that didn’t involve scolding or harassment about being seen as ‘normal’ in Jackson was what occurred. Ellie worked at your pace not pushing you to reveal everything and treated you like a human being, not some wild animal that the people of Jackson think you are.
Whatever you took knocked you out leaving you sleeping throughout the rest of the day only to awaken nearing sunset with a healthy meal Ellie had gotten from the mess hall by Joel’s orders but she did sneak some desserts in for you to eat. The environment and relationship that was changing from your near-death experience started to become more noticeable. You still kept to yourself, your bedroom and the stables your sanctuary from all that was outside, you hardly talked to Joel this instinct that keeps you at a distance from the man, Tommy it was more of him talking to you but you would add your two cents in and were so rigid when he would appear at the stables at random times to check in on you or to bring you something to eat.
The only person you would really ‘close’ to was Ellie. You started eating some meals with Ellie just the two of you and she would fill the silence by talking about whatever was on her mind with you speaking at times, she would hang around the stables and help with the horses when she wasn’t at school or hanging with Dina and Jesse. She took you to some places she would go with her friends and there was one interaction where you met Dina and Jesse that didn’t involve you beating someone up or trying to kill them when you first met them. It was awkward with you standing slightly behind Ellie just staring at the two teens as they tried making conversation with you either responding with grunts and nods or not even saying anything. But when Ellie would speak to you a few short sentences would come out but directed to her.
Despite being close to the younger girl and interacting with her friends you kept that boundary with the Millers and yourself. No matter how many times Tommy would invite you over for a ‘family’ dinner you refused.
“I’m not in your family.” And that’s how it would end, no amount of begging or offering of your favorite meals would convince you. Why would you have dinner with people who claimed it was for a family when you had no relation to them?
The cold was only getting more colder entering the final month of the year before spring would soon come. Making sure all the horses had extra hay for this chill in the air especially the two colts that are Dakota’s. Once they were situated you went out to do some last-minute things only to be interrupted by the appearance of Ellie petting one of the horses Shimmer.
“What are you doing here?” Your tone may have sounded cold and threatening to others but the young girl knew otherwise.
“Just wanted to see if you’re done here. I need help moving something from Tommy’s to the house.” She says rocking on her feet it looks like she just got out of school her pack still strapped to her back.
“Why can’t you get Dina or Jesse?” You question grabbing feed from some of the older horses petting Red in passing, “Because the two of them have this dinner date thing—blegh.” She says rolling her eyes and making a gagging noise.
“I thought they broke up?” You were very confused by the two’s on-and-off relationship, “Yeah they are doing this date to see if they want to get back together. Come on let’s go I need your help and everyone else is busy.”
Adding the remaining food in the large trough outside all of the older horses' section you move back inside grabbing your coat and throwing it on. “Fine.” Ellie pumps a fist up in the air with glee as you take your time signing out in the log and writing some notes on items needed. Ellie rocks on the heels of her feet,
“Come on let’s goooo.” She groans and you follow the girl out of the stables trying to take the quickest route to Rancher Street. Normally you would take backstreets walking through the few wooded areas only to walk through the main streets when completely abandoned. The awkwardness from the lingering stares from people as you follow the younger girl like a shadow keeping close by but distant enough that people seemed to move away when the two of you came near. It didn’t bother you, you weren’t looking for companionship or kindness from these people you didn’t know them and they didn’t need to know you.
The family street appears as the two of you pass by the house you reside in towards the other house containing the younger Miller brother and his wife and child. Ellie bounds up the porch steps letting herself in holding the door open for you to follow. You hear the door close behind you and the sound of voices further into the house but you can’t make it out.
“Tommy we’re here!” Ellie calls out and Tommy responds with an ‘Over here!’ and the two of you enter more into the house. You should have noticed something was off with Ellie’s almost nervous but excited energy. When the two of you turned the corner and saw the dining room you stopped in your tracks. The table was set for dinner food was already prepared Tommy held his son on his hip bouncing the slightly fussy baby, Joel sat on one side of the table already nursing a glass of whiskey, while Maria entered with what you assume was the final piece of the dinner.
“Great you guys are here come sit food is still hot.” Tommy gestures as he places his son into the chair designed for the baby before taking his seat at the head of the table. Maria moves to sit beside her child the baby separating the couple. Ellie already throws off her pack and coat taking a seat beside Tommy leaving an empty seat between Ellie and Joel. You still haven’t moved staring at the display.
“Come on kid, food’s gonna get cold,” Tommy calls out to you and your eyes slowly move from the table to the man. He carries an almost hopeful smile on his face as the others stare at you waiting for you to join in their family meal.
“What the fuck is this.” Void of emotion and sharp edge to your words. You were cornered the air was thin and a pit in your stomach made your insides churn.
“Hey, language,” Joel calls out in a warning tone, especially before the young child. Your gaze snaps away from Joel to Ellie who looks anxious about the growing tension, “You said we were just picking something up from here.” Your throat felt tight and a tingling sensation fills your fingers flexing them trying to gain feeling.
A sheepish look covers the young girl, “You wouldn’t have said yes if I asked. You never said yes before. So I thought this would be the best way to get you to come…” Her plan which everyone else seemed to be involved in had backfired horribly.
“I’m not hungry.” Your response is short already rejecting all of this: this idea, the meal, the people, everything. You didn’t want this. “You haven’t eaten since lunch and that was hours ago.” Tommy brings up having been the one to bring lunch for you just a simple sandwich not filling enough to miss dinner.
“I’m not eating that.” You shake your head sending a glare to the meal before you. Though the smell and appearance of it once made your mouth water and crave it you only felt ill looking at it.
“We can get you something I’m sure we can mix something up real quick. It would be good to all sit together and talk about how our day has been anything just a nice family dinner.” Tommy tries to convince you but it was that one word that made you want to hurl.
“I’m not part of your fucking family.” You hiss taking a step back, “I don’t want this or you or anyone.” You wanted to bolt you wanted to be back in that cabin maybe you should have pressured them more to put you out of your misery back then or maybe not fought as hard against those raiders.
“Why can’t you just accept our help or the fact we care about you?! Sure the world is fucked up but you don’t need to hate the small amount of good that is left,” Ellie stands taking a step towards and a frustrated look crosses her face. “If some shit happened to you just talk to us but don’t fucking act like your the only one suffering. You don’t want a chance to be a part of a family that cares for you again be my fucking guest.” It was like a punch in your gut and if there was any food in your system it would have left your stomach. Your gaze snaps to the three adults each of them with ranges of pity.
Fucking pity.
They saw you as someone weak.
Some broken little thing that needed fixing.
Your gaze pauses briefly with Maria’s, the understanding of how hard those words affected you. She knew the truth she knew why you were cold-hearted your life focused on yourself and everyone else was your enemy. The look of a mother who wished to comfort a child. Why hadn’t you ever received that look? What made you so different that she could never give you that look? It made you fucking sick.
A metallic taste floods your mouth from how hard you are biting your cheek. The weight on your chest felt unbearable just having them stare at you. You don’t even think you could respond unless it was to throw up. It was hot and uncomfortable in that room and it only seemed to rise in temperature. Your vision just seems to tunnel black creeping in from the side.
Fuck you can’t breathe.
You probably could have ripped the door from the hinges from how hard you swung the door open. A loud crash as the door slams against the wall but you don’t even care. Numb feet trip down the steps the coldness of the air heightens as you rush away. The people inside that house their voices fall on deaf ears. You couldn’t hear anything. Blindly letting your body guide you somewhere finding the familiar clearing that was introduced to you by Ellie. Where you sat awkwardly to the side just observing the trio of friends laugh and tell jokes. They tried to include you but you just shook your head listening in as you picked the dirt under your nails. Your chest screamed for air that it desperately needed. The blood spills freely from your mouth staining the snow a crisp crimson. You hold onto a tree with one hand hunched over gasping for air surprised you haven’t buckled over.
Why didn’t she care about you?
Why didn’t she love you? She could have at least pretended for your sake.
And why didn’t he stay? Did he care that little that he didn’t want to try?
Was she right? Just a bastard child to a bastard father.
“Kid?” Your eyes darted spotting the couple standing a few feet away from you. Maria holds her son in her arms the baby is sound asleep wrapped up. Tommy takes a step forward and you react taking a stumbling step back swiping your mouth ridding the blood that paints your lips and a bit of your chin. “You’re alright..” Tommy stops holding his hands out like he’s talking down some rabid animal.
“Tommy,” Maria calls out to her husband who glances back as the woman moves forward, “Go tell the other I got her…give us some time to talk. Girl on girl.” She says before looking over at you who watches the interaction with cautious eyes. Tommy hesitates just for a moment before taking his son and leaving the clearing until it’s just the two of you. Maria heads swiping some snow off the log that substitutes as a bench taking a sit before patting one end. You don’t move keeping your distance.
“You don’t have to might be nice just to sit and talk.” She says warmly, not an ounce of disgust or even remotely upset with your actions in her home. You shuffle forward but sit on the snowy floor a good foot or two separating you. “Ellie is sorry for what she said, though I’m sure she’d feel even worse if she knew how hard those words hit you huh.” She speaks not expecting you to respond. Finding more interest in the snow your gloved hand tracing shapes in the snow.
“Is it the fact that you don’t want to have dinner with us or you’ve never been given the opportunity to have a normal meal with people?” Maria saw the way your gaze snapped to her before darting back to the snow avoidant of the adult’s gaze.
You’re not even sure you’ve had a decent meal in your entire life. Even being here in Jackson you’ve eaten the bare minimum to survive. Why would you indulge yourself in the luxuries of a homecooked meal or even fresh food? You didn’t deserve it, a stranger in this place. No reason for them to feed you well enough until they can throw you make in that cell or perhaps turn you over to the raiders.
“It’s not fair.” You mumble and Maria looks down at you not rushing you to speak, “You live this great life, a perfect little family in this perfect town. Nothing is wrong with you.”
“Not everything is perfect. We’ve all lost something…some more than others. I hav—had a son, Kevin,” Maria falters slightly and you can hear the sudden sadness lace her voice as you look up at her, “He was only three on Outbreak Day. Tommy has lost people he’s cared for, same with Joel and Ellie. It takes time to come to peace and some just never get over it.” Maria says a sense of peace despite the fact of losing a child.
“It still hurts but the pain gets easier but it never leaves. Some days are better than others. I can only be grateful for the life I have now and knowing my little boy is in a better place.” Her voice gets all choked up and she swipes away a stray tear from he misty eyes.
“I’m sure he knows he is loved.” You say softly and she nods looking down as a few tears fall but she takes a moment to compose herself.
“I’m sure in another world both my sons would have known each other. I’m sure in another world your mother would have loved you the way you deserved to be loved.” She says and you’re not sure how to react.
You’re not sure you could ever imagine a world where she loved you. To hold you in her arms like you were fragile glass. To read to you stories about far-off lands of heroes fighting to save the day. To soothe your tears and heal your cuts and scrapes you gained for having too much fun not from getting beaten and burned by those around you. To care about your interests and the things you enjoy. To be funny and make you laugh so hard you cry. To hold your hand when you are scared and protect you from the nightmares and fears that couldn’t hurt you. To make you a homemade meal to sit at a table and talk about your day and just be together. Maybe you would have a day in that picture. He’d come home from whatever job existed before the Outbreak Day, complain about the long day but happy to come home to his daughter and wife.
“I don’t think she’d ever love me no matter what world we lived in.” You wonder what kind of person you’d be in a different life but you believe that some people truly can’t change. Maybe this apocalypse truly brought out the real side that people had hidden in a normal society. “I’d rather have her lie to me. To at least act like she wanted to read me stories, to hold me on the cold nights instead of sleeping by a barely working radiator, to have my father be in my life and not just a string of drug addicts and horrible men, to tend to my wounds from bullies instead of learning how to stitch my first cut at nine, to just sit with me and a goddamn table and talk to me! To treat me like her kid...her fucking daughter instead of some bastard child!” Your throat grew more tight and your vision more blurry. It was anger a hatred towards her. You were jealous of all of those people who had good parents. A father in their life. A mother who loved them. You got neither. You wanted that. You craved it.
“I just wanted a mom.” You gritted out a burning in your eyes until you felt something run down your cheeks. Raising your hand see wetness appear on your gloves before turning your attention to Maria who looks at you sadness covering her eyes. Harshly rubbing your eyes to rid the tears and scowl though not a very good one. “Doesn’t matter it’s stupid anyway.”
“It’s not.” Maria defends against your statement, “You deserved someone to care for you and she failed you. Not you. You deserved that life you wanted and she failed to give that to you. She failed at being a mother. You didn’t fail as a daughter.” She says and it’s quiet between the two of you. A mother who wished she could’ve given the world to her first child but was given the chance to try again and a daughter who gave all she could’ve to a woman who was meant to be a mother and given nothing in return. Maria stands up holding a hand out for you. It’s a moment before you accept her hand though it’s not the action of helping you stand but telling you something deeper.
A mother caring for a child that isn’t even hers.
The walk back to Rancher Street has a new energy and a different feeling. You can’t describe how things changed between yourself and Maria but it did. As the familiar view of the house you occupy with Joel and Ellie comes into view a guiding hand rests on your shoulder and you’re brought away to the house that is Maria and Tommy’s. “Why are we going over here?” You ask confused maybe Joel and Ellie were waiting in their house. But they would have been waiting in their home for you to return.
“Just trust me.” She says and while a part of you, the part that screamed at you to run and hide. To reject this adult’s trust, you didn’t know her, she could hurt you, you don’t know her intentions. But you still followed after her until you reached inside the house that remained empty no sound of Joel or Ellie. Coming around the corner is Tommy and their son held in his arms. “You’re back.”
“Can you go sit at the dining table for a moment?” Maria asks and you nod trailing over to the dinner table to food still set and waiting for someone to eat it. You could hear some muffled voices a whole room separating you from deciphering the words between the couple. The couple returns with the male holding Liam as he places the baby in the highchair. The child babbles at his father before Tommy pulls away heading off to the kitchen with Maria. The baby seems in their own world before he makes eye contact with you and you feel locked in its gaze. A staring contest between a teenager and an infant. Pinned under the child’s innocent gaze unable to react. You weren’t sure what to do. He seems to see something you don’t do before giggles fill the room as it laughs at you. Maria and Tommy return the couple smile softly at the sight.
Your gaze snaps to Maria and Tommy, “I don’t know why it’s laughing at me.” The worried expression only causes the child’s laughter and babbling to increase.
“Well, Liam seems to like you so I don’t think you need to worry about him giggling at you,” Maria says before serving generous portions of food onto a large plate and covering it to keep the food all warm. She gives the plate to Tommy who collects his son and the two head back out and you watch them leave. “Where are they going?” You question as Maria grabs a new plate and starts filling it with a spread of the food placing it at one seat and grabbing a new plate she looks up at you.
“What would you like?” She asks and you look at the food, then the plate, then at her a look of confusion. “What?”
“What would you like to eat? There is chicken, a mix of vegetables, and mashed potatoes with some gravy we also have some leftover cookies but those can be for dessert.” She explains pointing at the different options before you. It hit you hard in the chest what she was doing for you. “You don’t have to stay, I can serve you and you can stay here and I’ll eat somewhere else or you can sit somewhere else in the house if you feel more comfortable.” She reassures you willing to work at your level. To just sit at a table and talk.
“You can choose.” You say fidgeting with the gloves on your hands feeling hot from the layered clothes. She does a spread of the options giving you the option to try everything with portions you would never serve yourself. It was too much food that you didn’t deserve. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen this much food just for you in your life. Maria settles down going to get started on her meal when she looks at you sitting across from her staring at the meal unsure where to start or if you even could. Maria stands up grabbing her plate, “Come on.” She grabs your plate and drink follows after her as the two of you leave the dining room finding yourself in the family room. Maria places her food on the small table in front of the couch gesturing for you to follow.
“You can sit on the floor or the couch whatever you prefer.” She says before moving toward the television to set something up. You sit on the ground your plate of food resting on the table at your chest your legs crossed under the small table. “You can start eating if you’d like. Don’t wait up for me.” She says over her shoulder and the hunger you’ve been holding back has you digging into the meal. Rich flavors and the weight of the fresh warm meal a great feeling in your body. A pleasant sound fills the room as light shines from the tv. Maria sits on the couch her plate resting on her lap as she starts to eat as the film begins on the screen.
“This is one of my favorites.” She says and the film plays and you’re sucked into the story reading the title of the film with wide curious eyes.
“The Lion King? How can a lion be a king?” You say looking back at the older woman, “Just watch the movie.” She says and you return your attention to what’s on screen.
You ended up moving up onto the couch around the midpoint, the food filling you up, and when Maria said that you were allowed to have more servings you declined so full from that. You weren’t sure how you got so invested in the film, feeling a deep sadness and shock when Mufasa died. To be invested in the characters Timon and Pumba a crack of a smile listening to their jokes. By the time the credits came it wasn’t shocking from the full meal, the film, and just the exhaustion from the day's events you drifted asleep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch your arms acting as a pillow.
Maria got to work quietly cleaning taking your plates to the kitchen and started to pack up the remaining food leaving leftovers for them but having some to give to Joel and Ellie. With the leftovers in hand, she glances at you still asleep on the couch the dim glow of the TV shines on your features before she quietly exits her home to fetch her husband and child.
Joel wasn’t sure what to say or do when you returned. Given Ellie’s outburst that quietly turned to guilt once you fled his brother’s home, they went out looking for you. Looking back at their home, then the stables all the while comforting the young girl who was filled with guilt for the harsh words she had spat. When Ellie suggested a location the young introduced the older one to they ran into Tommy with Liam who reassured them that Maria had you and they were talking things out and to return to their home.
Joel wasn’t expecting Tommy and his nephew to appear at his door with what looked like the meal they were meant to eat. Still, he questioned where you were but Tommy reassured him that Maria was providing her dinner and it would be better to make it a gradual approach involving you in these things. He could understand that, you kept to yourself eating meals alone in your room or at the stables when someone would bring you something, you came and went with little to no warning. Sometimes late a night he had to really strain his already bad hearing for the front door to quietly creak open and even quieter footsteps travel around the first floor before retreating to your room. So the four of them ate the meal Maria prepared in Joel’s dining room. Ellie hoped to apologize to you but for the time being, was able to distract herself with Tommy’s son. Now that it was truly dark and a meal would be over when another knock came at the door and it was Maria with leftovers he couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated.
“She fell asleep after dinner. Tuckered out from the day.” Maria says while trading the leftovers to Ellie for her son. Joel nods his fingers holding the loops of his belt, “Well myself or Ellie will come over in the morning to collect her.” When he said that he saw the look Tommy and Maria gave each other clearly he was out of the loop with something.
“What is it?” A hint of concern in his tone. “Joel..” Tommy starts not sure the best words as Maria takes Tommy’s hand giving it a reassuring squeeze, “We’d think it might be better if the kid stays with us.”
Joel wasn’t sure how to take that news. Did you ask to stay with them given the events of today? Was it something he did before? “I’m sorry what?” The words didn’t seem to register.
“We just think it might be good for her to be in a more family-oriented environment,” Tommy says and Joel sends him a questioning look, “The hell does family-oriented mean?”
“Joel come on, she stays practically locked up in her room and if not she’s at the stables until she has no choice but to come back. Ellie talks and tries to spend time with her but seriously Joel do you know one thing about her? You both are busy anyways with Ellie in school and you with your patrols she’s left with nothing to do.” Tommy says and Joel feels like this is an attack on his skill of taking care of a child. His hand rests on the broken watch around his wrist. He raises Sarah all by himself with the help of Tommy but it is just him and his babygirl. Then there was Ellie he would say he is raising her well for an ambitious spitfire of a kid. Tommy’s words hurt him and the image he had of being a good parental figure but it shined a light. He saw Ellie as his daughter his kid to protect and care for but in the beginning, you were some brat shoved in his hands as his responsibility now but he couldn’t explain this need to watch over you. Though he did it while keeping a 15-foot pole separating you both.
“You said you couldn’t do it cause of Liam why the sudden change?” Joel wanted to find an excuse just the tiniest one so he could claim he was the better fit but he had no clue why he wished this. The old him would be rejoicing and letting them take you off his hands.
“That’s because we didn’t know her. All of us needed to learn to trust her and we do. She’ll be around at least one of us when with Liam and this might be the first step and getting her out of her shell,” Maria says “She’s been through a lot Joel and she’s only now wants to talk about it. She needs normalcy in her life. I don’t mean this in a wrong way but you and Ellie still live and act like you’re out there fighting to survive.” Now that riled up the older Miller. Sure he kept to himself spoke when only necessary to do his job then returned home to do it all over again but things were different now. Ellie and him had things that they never had out there and being here was their fresh start from everything that has happened to them.
“Tommy.” Joel looked at his brother hoping he would try to defuse the situation and maybe reconsider but he didn’t. “Did you even ask her? Do you really know her well enough to know what’s best for her?” He sounded spiteful a bite to his words.
“Stop it,” Tommy’s voice curt to his brother and his wife, “We just came here to tell you she’s going to be staying with us. Not fight over who knows her better. If she wishes to return to stay with you she’s more than welcome to.” It’s quiet between the three adults before Liam begins fusing and it’s too late for the baby to be out.
“Look you’re welcome to see her. We’re not keeping her away from you Joel but if you really think she’s better off with you. Put some goddamn effort in getting to know her instead of treating her like some stranger.” Tommy says before delivering his brother a pat on his shoulder that was meant to be comforting but only felt like a mockery. The family retreats back to their home as Joel closes the door a weight in his stomach as he stares at the woodgrain on the door.
“Joel?” Ellie’s voice makes him turn from where he stands to find Ellie standing in the living room. He was sure she heard their conversation but didn’t but in. “Is she not staying with us anymore?” Sadness laced her features and it only added more guilty weight to his gut. This wasn’t something he could give some hopeful response that things would be better but he truly didn’t know. You’re decision would be up to you and it may be his fault for not putting in an effort.
“I don’t know kiddo…I don’t know.”
Where the Wild Things Are Tags
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“…stops the moment being with you is more difficult than it worth…” ((this is from your post a couple days ago))
Imagine a timid, broken reader trying to win back Johnny’s affection. He’s abusive but to her its still affection he gives and she can’t live without him. She has attached herself to this killer.
“If it will make you happy… you can hit me… you can pull my hair.. or choke me… I’ll even make you feel good… just don’t stay mad…please”
Johnny Slaughter x Reader
Contains: extreme abuse, gas lighting, and the unhealthiest relationship known to man
Too Much Trouble
In the dimly lit room, Johnny's return was heralded by waves of pure hate that seemed to radiate off him.
"You stupid fucking bitch," Johnny snarled, his silhouette looming menacingly in the doorway, hands clenched into fists.
"I'm sorry!" you sobbed, collapsing to your knees with hands clasped in front of you, a desperate plea for mercy echoing in your voice, a prayer to a merciless, vindictive God.
He stood there, a simmering rage evident as his fists clenched and unfurled.
"Johnny, please don't stay mad," you pleaded, bowing your head submissively. "I'll do anything. You can hit me, choke me, or do whatever you want to me. I am so, so sorry."
"You're sorry, huh? How many fucking times have I heard that bullshit?" His open palm met your cheek with a resounding slap, reducing you to grovel at his feet, tears streaming down your face, your cheek ablaze with red.
"I don't need your permission to beat you, you little rat fuck."
"You're right, I'm sorry," you muttered, nodding erratically.
"You're gonna be sorry. This time, I'm not holding back."
His kick landed squarely in your stomach, the force sending you sprawling onto the floor, clutching your abdomen in agony.
The illusion shattered again. The happy façade crumbled, the façade you could pretend was your reality when Johnny was pleased with you, when you were perfect.
He had expected you to pack him a meal when he went out to "work," criticizing you for forgetting his snack for a week. You leaped up, ran to the kitchen, and returned with the snack, only to face his wrath.
"Just like you to be a full-blown fucking retard. Can't listen for one goddamn minute. If I wanted you to go get me a fucking snack right this second, I woulda said to do it," he complained.
"I didn't realize you'd been without one for so long, so I felt bad and wanted to fix it. I shouldn't have worried about it right now, and I'm sorry," you said, attempting to de-escalate the situation.
"Can't go a fucking week without making me explain some basic shit to you. If you thought I cared about the fucking snack, maybe ask if you should go pack it instead of running off?" he berated.
You ducked your head. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"You ain't sorry. If you were, you'd learn a goddamn thing without me needing to tell you a hundred fuckin' times," he growled.
Truthfully, you were amazed he wasn't beating you already. You peeked up at him. "I swear I'll try to ask you if something is bothering you rather than trying to fix it right away," you said, hoping it would appease him. His glare deepened.
"Always with the promises. The swears. 'Oh, I won't do it again, Johnny!'," he mocked.
You started to tremble. "I don't know what to say," you said, struggling to hold his cold gaze.
"If I gotta tell you what to say, it won't make a difference. Why the fuck do I waste my time trynna teach you any goddamn thing? You're useless, lazy, spineless, and pathetic," he spat before leaving the room and locking the door.
Alone, you curled up on the bed, replaying the event in your mind, wondering why he hadn't hit you this time. Maybe you weren't even worth correcting anymore. Maybe you were more trouble than you were worth.
The thought hit you like a sack of bricks. You clutched the sheets, sobbing, desperate to be enough, to be worth keeping.
A timid voice from outside the locked door interrupted your thoughts. "Mommy? Are you okay?"
"Honey, I'm okay. Go to grandma's house, alright?" you said, masking the pain in your voice.
"Mommy needs rest?" they asked innocently.
You smiled through the pain. "Yeah, honey, mommy needs rest. Go on to grandma, baby. I love you."
As their little footsteps padded down the hall, you lay in silence, trying to hold onto the scent of him in the sheets. For almost a month, things had been good. You could almost believe Johnny loved you.
If you had any self-preservation, you'd plan an escape or consider self-defense. But you're stuck, desperately trying to think of what you can do or say to make him happy, knowing deep down there's nothing. With him not having touched you, you feared he had grown tired of tormenting you.
So, as you clutched your aching stomach after he kicked you, part of you was relieved. If he was bothering to correct you, maybe he was still going to keep you.
"I fucking hate you," he declared, kicking you over. "I wish you'd die."
His words cut deep as he grabbed your hair, a blade scraping under your chin. "One little slit is all it'd take to be rid of you. To spare me and our kid from growing up with a shit-for-brains mom."
You said nothing, tears and snot falling onto the floor. Johnny looked disgusted.
"You got nothin' to say? Maybe I should cut out your tongue," he sneered, tilting the blade to nick your skin.
"Baby, please, I-" you started. His eyes narrowed, bloodlust evident.
"Say one more goddamn word. Give me an excuse. I'm dying for you to let me be rid of you," he hissed, eyes filled with hate. "God, it'd make me feel so good to kill you. I can feel the tension leavin' my body just thinking about it. Honestly, I'd probably cum the moment I saw the light die in your dull eyes."
Appalled and mortified, you said nothing. You needed him. He was all you had. You stayed silent as he unleashed his frustration on you, beating you within an inch of your life. When he got tired or bored with it, he left without another word.
You lay on the floor in a pool of blood, body shattered, eyes too bruised to see, but alive. A broken smile crept across your face. He still wanted you. You weren't yet more trouble than you were worth.
#johnny slaughter#johnny sawyer#texas chainsaw massacre game#tcm game#texas chainsaw game#tcm#johnny slaughter x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#tw abuse#abusiveboyfriend
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My Yandere Neighbor (Manga)
Created by: 杏蜜
Genre: Comedy/Slice of Life
So this is a translation that we picked up, and while we have five chapters of raws currently, only one of them has been translated and typeset, so we'll be going off of that. The story so far has some yandere action between Kishi and Okada but is overall pretty light, with Okada mostly just being confused and slightly offput by Kishi as of now.
The story starts out with Okada working with Kishi and her being offput by him as he seems to be following and noticing very minute details about how many inches of hair she's cut off of her bangs and that she's sighing more than usual. We learn that Okada has recently been promoted to Art Director and is currently very busy. Kishi can be helpful towards Okada which she appreciates but is still a bit weirded out by her reaction. We get a backstory about how the two meet with Kishi grumbling outside and Okada concerned and bringing him in so they can talk. We find out that Kishi has been mistreated by his boss, as he's made a mistake which caused his boss to severely berate him and forcing him to apologize to everyone. Okada feels sympathetic towards Kishi and his situation and decides to help by talking to her boss about it to get the situation resolved. This leads to Kishi being transferred to her department, allowing him to get a better job and to be closer to Okada, which leads to him just becoming a stalker. We get to Kishi hanging out with coworkers after hours, with them eventually rooting for Okada to look after him after hearing his story. Kishi then goes on an entire thing where he talks about how much he worships her and even ends up following her to the bathroom just to tell her that they were all going to sing karaoke. When it's Okada's turn to sing, Kishi brings an entire boom mic just to record her, though Okada promptly shuts it down. After singing and drinking, Kishi brings her home and he's pretty drunk and she's shocked to find that the two are now neighbors as he's moved in next door.
So already starting out, we can kind of see how the comedy of Kishi and Okada has unfolded, though it doesn't seem like it'll be a very drastic in terms of yandere actions are more of a light comedy type of thing, at least so far considering Okada's attitude. She doesn't seem really scared of Kishi only weirded out by the things that he does and Kishi is at least kind enough respond to Okada when she tells him not to do something like go into the girl's bathroom as well as try to actually help her during her job. This seems like a quirky love that might bloom between them then, along with a lot more comedic moments, though it's hard to judge from the first chapter alone.
Kishi himself seems to be the worshipping type as noted by his own words (and his own imaginations of him), which makes a lot of sense considering Okada basically was able to fish him out of an abusive boss and eventually land him a much better and healthier job. Most of his actions are strange, but relatively harmless, from trying to record Okada's voice while singing karaoke, to knowing what kind of tea she likes, to I guess following her to the bathroom. I imagine as the series continues, these actions will just get more and more bizarre but ultimately harmless and only really affecting Okada's suspension of disbelief. If they wanted to go a more serious route, they could also probably run in the direction of Kishi slowly realizing that Okada isn't as much of a goddess as he thinks she is, treating her more as person as the story goes on, or maybe just continuing the hijinks as they are.
Anyways, I'm curious to see where this series will go after all of this time. Since we're translating it, I would be very happy if you all read it so I can see your reactions.
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like you've never seen a broken man (if you go, i won't be well)
shivlina oneshot | loosely inspired by Mad Men 5x11 - The Other Woman
karolina is faced with a difficult proposition, but it's shiv who handles it the worst
read below or on ao3
“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
She narrowly avoids spilling scalding coffee on herself when Roman creeps up behind her.
“Hey, Shiv, real quick—Karolina’s gay, right?”
“The fuck?” Shiv raises her brows, turning to face him.
“I mean, right?” he scoffs, ignoring her bewildered reaction. “Those blazers definitely scream L Word blu-ray boxsets.”
“Roman, what the fuck are you talking about?” Shiv shakes her head.
Roman rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand in her face.
“Oh, forget it, cockzilla.”
“Why do you want to know who Karolina likes to fuck, dickwad?” Shiv intentionally lowers her tone, keeping her eyes trained on the office door and the people milling about just outside of it.
The last thing she needs is for Roman’s wet dreams to make it onto the goddamn LackeySlack.
“She wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire—you know that, right?” she gives him a mocking pout, crossing her arms.
“Well, so much for my piss kink, I guess.” Roman frowns. He begins circling her office in a performance of sulking, picking up random decorative items and inspecting them, pretending to check the furniture for dust and fiddling with the handles on every cabinet door.
“Fuck me for trying to prepare for our next lawsuit.” he sighs, putting his hands on his hips.
For a moment he looks to Shiv like the spitting image of their second nanny, Sandra, who would always berate him when she’d catch him stealing her dolls after he’d accidentally broken one of his own toys. A somewhat tolerable enough woman, she’d finally gotten fed up and left them after Roman tried to set her uniform on fire while she’d been dozing off in an armchair.
“Roman, what are you talking about?” Shiv finally snaps, frustrated by Roman’s evasiveness.
Normally she’d bite—see what depraved bullshit he’d concocted out of boredom. But the subject he’s brought up sticks to the back of her throat like bad medicine.
He doesn’t seem to be dragging it out specifically to get a rise out of her, though, which brings her some relief. If anyone were to find out, Roman would be the cruellest (and most annoying) executioner.
She’d rather take her chances with Tom.
“You know Karl’s guy at the DOJ?” he asks.
“The one with all the ugly ties?” Shiv nods impatiently.
“Yeah, the guy’s being a flaky little shit right now.” Roman crosses the room, perching himself on her desk and leaning over to mock-whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “Dad’s afraid we might lose him.”
Shiv scrunches her face, stepping back and batting him away like a pesky mosquito.
“And what’s that got to do with Karolina?” she clears her throat, crossing her arms.
The knot she’s been trying to swallow down tightens behind her tongue.
“Oh, you mean Elizabeth Taylor incarnate? His words, by the way.” Roman puts both hands up in defence. “He wants to have dinner with her.”
“What?”
Air rushes out of her like a dam breaking, leaving an aching, hollow cavity inside of her chest. She can barely hear Roman speaking over the blood flooding her ears.
“That’s wrong, right?” his eyes widen. “Like—generally speaking, sex trafficking is not really the way to go when you’re fighting sex trafficking allegations, agreed?”
Shiv takes a deep breath, attempting to steady her hands before they begin shaking. She hesitates before opening her mouth, afraid that a scream might be the only sound to come out.
“Roman, this is fucked on so many levels.” she can feels her teeth creaking under the force of her jaw. “Who told you? Wait, does dad know?”
“I told you we have a group chat without you.” Roman rolls his eyes, concern over the situation already melting away now that he’d found an accessory to the crime.
Shiv grits her teeth, forcing herself not to scream. “Does he know?”
“He asked Gerri to talk to her.” he raises his brows. “Give her the ol’ girlboss rundown before we, you know, stuff her ‘n snuff her.” he claps his hands loudly.
As Roman begins to make his way out of her office, Shiv bites her cheek, calling out to him through tight lips.
“He’s actually letting this happen?”
Roman shrugs, a faint trace of guilt worrying his brow.
“I mean, to be fair, he did send Karl to suck the guy’s dick first, so you can’t call him a sexist.”
-
“Dad, what the fuck?”
Behind her father, she sees Karl attempt to weasel his way silently out of the room, so she pins him down with a sharp glare.
Her father is sitting at his desk, his fingers loosely woven as he sighs, taking his reading glasses off to fully take her in.
“Shiv, I can’t have you fighting me on this, too.”
She cuts him off with a scoff. “You know what this looks like, right? You’re aware—”
“It is just a business dinner.” he stands up, attempting to wave her off.
Shiv takes a decisive step forward, straightening her shoulders to meet him head-on.
“Not if we have to whisper about it, it isn’t.”
Their eyes lock in a standstill as she watches her father clench his jaw—a mirror pressure gnashing her own teeth.
When she was young, they used to play-fight like this, staring each other down like two angry bulls, her father simmering with faux rage until he’d finally yell or huff out a deep growl. Not enough to make her cry, but just to make her flinch. To see her bottom lip start to tremble.
Then, he’d start laughing—a big, booming sound, and then he’d smile and squeeze her shoulder playfully.
We’ll make a matador out of you, Pinky.
She doesn’t flinch this time, nor does she waver in her stare, so her father finally releases another deep sigh.
“Siobhan, do you know how many senators I’ve had to wine and dine? How many presidents?” he tilts his head as his eyes narrow. “It’s all part of the business.”
Shiv scoffs, crossing her arms before addressing him. “Except those guys weren’t actually sexually attracted to you, dad.”
The more she speaks about it, the more nausea grips her to her core, twisting her up inside.
All she gets from her father is a smirk as he exchanges mocking glances with Karl.
“Dad, this is abuse of power in the lightest.” she emphasizes the last part with a sharp slash of her hand in the air. “It’s—it’s fucking prostitution!”
The words erupt out of her like smouldering lava, and she watches the smirk drain from her father’s face. Now they’ve all been singed by it.
“No, that’s definitely off the table.” Karl jumps in, finally making his presence heard. “I told him this is strictly a dinner.”
Shiv turns her head sharply. “And if he asks for another one? And then another one?” she shakes her head. “Did you make him pinky promise, Karl?” she pouts, furrowing her brows.
He clears his throat, straightening his suit jacket before responding.
“Well, no, but—”
Her father interjects before he has the chance to come up with a half-decent lie.
“The guy’s a flake, but he’s not stupid. He’ll help us, Siobhan.”
He punctuates his sentence with a firm nod—the entire world expected to bend under its weight.
“How do you know that, dad?” she bites the inside of her cheek.
“I know guys like him.” he raises a heavy hand, letting it hover somewhere above her elbow. “All she has to do is shake the lonely fuck’s hand and he’ll set our case file on fire.”
“And besides—” Karl interjects again. “It’s all up to her. We’re only doing this with her full consent.”
It doesn’t escape Shiv’s notice that none of them have used Karolina’s name even once during this entire conversation.
-
She doesn’t speak to Karolina for the rest of the week. That is, Karolina makes it a point to avoid her like the plague. No more quick, teasing smirks as they pass each other by, no more lingering stares during meetings. The closest she gets to any form of interaction is a “Sorry, do you mind?” when Shiv happens to be sitting right next to the projector remote.
And oh, does she fucking mind.
She’s aware of what’s happening. Her dad, Karl, the whole rotten lot of them—she knows they’re all talking behind closed doors, doing the dirty business in the back while she sits at the bar, kicking her feet and blowing bubbles into her soda with her straw.
None of them dare to even mention the DOJ around her, and in just a few short days she’s learnt to translate Gerri’s um’s and uh’s like learning her left from her right—if she clears her throat first, it’s something to do with money, if she clears her throat after, they need to discuss the thing. It doesn’t help that Karl’s ears turn bright fucking red as if on cue, too.
Karolina, though, remains untouched.
She strides through the building with the same sense of purpose. She speaks clearly and nods firmly, her hands meticulous as she drafts, plans, executes—always moving, a clear and continuous arrow pointing them forward.
That is to say, she is as she always has been. Or rather, Shiv thinks, as she always had been.
Before.
Before the late night drinks, before the stolen kisses during boring parties, before the indulgent smiles and the lingering stares. Before Shiv.
She dwells on it, this strange new territory where she can’t quite tell where they are in relation to the other, what she can say and how much of it Karolina can hear—what Karolina might want to say and how much of it Shiv could take.
And Shiv is nothing if not realistic. She doesn’t expect Karolina to come to her with this, isn’t even sure she could handle Karolina laying this entire fucking mess at her feet and asking for her help in untangling it.
But the more she thinks about it, and in this unending darkness she’s been kept in she’s done nothing but think about it, the tighter her fingers curl into fists. Her chest constricts with it, this thinking. It drips down the back of her throat and coats her trachea. It wraps itself around her lungs like ivy, squeezing until she finds herself gasping in the middle of the night, struggling to catch her breath, the faint shadow of a thought lingering in the back of her mind.
She feels it rotting her from the inside out, all of this thinking, growing like black bile and spilling out through her eyes, her ears, her mouth, through her clenched fingers and gritted teeth.
She wakes up thinking about the scandal it would cause if it were ever to come out, even the idea of it—the shame of it. The fact that Karolina’s career would be over before anyone would even finish reading the headline.
“Waystar Head of PR caught in sex scandal. Dinner over DOJ!”
How it would add even more fuel to the already blazing dumpster fire that is cruises. How it would scorch every single one of them, cementing the fact that Waystar Royco is in the business of trading bodies.
That last part lingers most in Shiv’s mind—the bodies and the people that trade them, and by the time night rolls around it is all she can think about again.
Karolina’s body, the soft skin Shiv’s fingers and tongue have traced endlessly, the warmth of her, the way her hair curls at the sharp curve of her jaw. Karolina’s scent, the way it seems to always linger everywhere—on pillows and sheets, the collar of Shiv’s jacket, the backseat of the car, the back of Shiv’s mind. Shiv closes her eyes and sees Karolina smiling lazily after a particularly hard day and a stiff drink, sees her purse her lips and lean her forehead against Shiv’s, sees her sitting across a conference table, blinking slowly before looking away, the faintest upturn of a lip lingering for a second before disappearing.
To think of it all, the flush that spreads from Karolina’s chest all the way to the back of her ear when she’s aroused, the firmness of her thighs, the sweet cadence of her laughter—to see it reduced to a bargaining chip. To something that can be exchanged discreetly during a handshake, or slipped into a back pocket. It leaves her nerves taut and aching and rapidly coming undone each time she closes her eyes and pictures a stranger’s hand on Karolina’s shoulder, at the crook of her elbow, gripping the back of her knees, tangled in her soft hair.
When Karolina texts her asking to meet, she almost knocks Tom off the bed getting up.
He doesn’t ask where she’s going, offering only a murmured goodbye and plea to be safe.
She doesn’t know how it’s become such a pitiful affair, their relationship whittled down to a sigh they keep passing from one to the other. A barely flickering light they use to keep from bumping against each other in the dark hallways of their gilded cage. Despite the mangled state of it, despite the blood on both of their hands, she feels it thrumming against her ribcage, the soft memory of it—Paris and easy dinners, Tom’s hands rubbing her shoulders to keep her warm, pulling her into his chest to warm the tip of her nose. Beneath everything they’ve become she can still feel that small root they haven’t eviscerated yet, so she clings onto it, and squeezes Tom’s shoulder softly, urging him to go back to sleep..
-
By the time she makes it to Karolina’s apartment she is panting as if she’d ran the entire distance, her chest tight as she tries to reteach her lungs the volume of a breath.
They settle on the couch, making stilted conversation while working through a couple of drinks. Once she’s polished off her second glass, Karolina finally turns to face Shiv, head leaned against her hand as their eyes lock for what feels like the first time this entire evening.
“Spit it out.” she sighs, her eyelids heavy with whiskey and exhaustion.
Shiv swallows nervously, debating how much she can say without spilling her rotten entrails all over Karolina’s soft leather couch. She stares into her glass, clicking her nails against it.
“You’re not seriously considering it.” she finally says, furrowing her brows.
She only looks up from her glass when she hears Karolina scoff.
“I wasn’t aware there was room for consideration.” Karolina replies, eyebrow cocked and lip turned up into a scornful smile.
“See, this is what I mean.” she shakes her head. “It’s fucked—it’s fucking wrong.”
Karolina turns away from her, leaning down to pour herself another glass. The decanter shimmers in the warm light, blurring Shiv’s vision. She follows the dancing flickers of light as they spill out of the decanter with the whiskey, then pool into Karolina’s glass, taking flight as Karolina raises the glass to her mouth before finally settling, small and inviting, in the flushness of her bottom lip.
“And what would you like me to do about it, Siobhan?”
When Karolina’s lips begin moving, Shiv has to blink herself awake to recognize the words they are forming. However sweet the distraction, Shiv pulls herself together, gripping her glass as she focuses back on the topic at hand.
“You can tell Karl and his pervy buddy to fuck off.” she suggests half-humouredly.
Karolina furrows her brows, taking another sip of her drink, this time letting out a satisfied hum before turning to look at Shiv over her shoulder, the same mocking smile dangling loosely from her lips. “Can I?”
Shiv leans forward, her knee knocking into Karolina’s as she lowers her head to meet Karolina’s gaze. “So what, you’re actually gonna go on a date with this guy?”
“It’s just a dinner.” Karolina shrugs.
Just like the first time they’d fucked had been a one-time thing. Just like the second time Shiv had slept over had been about the bad weather outside and the traffic. Just like the extra toothbrush in Karolina’s bathroom was a matter of convenience.
Like coal to diamond, nothing too unbending for Karolina to compartmentalize into clear, easily digestible morsels of truth.
Shiv tries to clear her head, but all she sees when she closes her eyes are those goddamn hands—too broad and hungry and wrong, grabbing at Karolina’s flesh. When she tries to take a deep breath it isn’t Karolina’s warm, spicy perfume trailing the end of each inhale, but some tacky, heady cologne filling her lungs until she’s choking with it, sticking to the back of her throat like ammonia.
“Am I the only one who can actually read the writing on the fucking wall?” she finally opens her eyes, turning her head sharply towards Karolina “You know what he wants, Karolina—what he expects.”
“And what would you like me to do about it, Siobhan?”
“Maybe try standing up for yourself?” she shakes her head. “Give that a go.”
“Stand up to whom?” Karolina laughs, raising her glass to her lips again. “I’m perfectly aware of the situation I am in.”
“Then do something about it.” Shiv raises her voice, anger thrashing in waves inside of her.
Karolina places her glass down on the table with a loud clink.
“Shiv, I appreciate your concern, but I can’t have this discussion with you.”
Shiv scoffs, hands gripping her knees as she leans back forcefully against the couch.
“Rain check the dinner. Let me talk to my dad.”
Karolina laughs, the sound of it reverberating harshly inside of Shiv’s skull.
“And tell him what, exactly?” she says, looking over her shoulder at Shiv with narrowed eyes as she drags out her words. “That you don’t like sharing toys?”
“This is not about that.”
“Isn’t it?” Karolina smirks.
Like tar, something hot and sticky begins to pool at the bottom of Shiv’s stomach.
“How am I more concerned about your wellbeing than you are?”
Shiv brings her hands to rub the bridge of her nose, the pressure gathered there digging into her skull like a bullet.
“There is only one outcome here, Siobhan.” Karolina sighs. “Either I do it, and I’m the whore that did it, or I say no and I’m the cunt that put the company at risk. And to them it’s the same amount of nothing.” she waves a dismissive hand, focusing back on her drink.
“You’re the head of PR, Karolina.” Shiv yells out again, finding herself decreasingly apologetic for her harsh tone.
Karolina doesn’t look back at Shiv this time, speaking around her almost empty glass. “Which works out wonderfully, since I’ll be the one in charge of keeping my own mouth shut.”
“This guy could be dangerous—you know that, right?” Shiv leans back forward, forcing Karolina to look at her. “He works for the DOJ, he’s got money, influence, we don’t even know how long Karl’s known him or how well—”
“So what, Siobhan?” Karolina interrupts her, voice simmering with concealed anger. “No real person involved, right?” she smiles widely, the strain of it marring its usual charm.
Shiv hangs her face in her hands, releasing a shaky breath through her fingers. “This is so fucked.”
“Mhm.”
She watches Karolina polish off the remaining whiskey in her glass before putting it down with a decisive clink and gingerly resting her hand over Shiv’s thigh.
“Speaking of things that need fucking.”
Shiv leans into the kiss, letting Karolina’s warm mouth, the whiskey on her tongue and her soft sighs melt away her anger and her fear—prays all of her melts away under Karolina’s hands.
As she closes her eyes, though, there they are—those damned hands. That suffocating smell. That unbearable fucking weight pressing against her chest.
“Wait—sorry.” she pulls away, her hand coming up to grip the one Karolina had wrapped around the back of her head. “This is—it feels weird to be doing this right now.”
Karolina gives an amused frown, whispering something Shiv can’t quite make out before continuing to trail messy kisses across her neck. Shiv lets her, but finds her own hands growing foreign to her as she wraps them around Karolina’s back—too big, too clumsy, and too rough against the smooth skin peeking out from under Karolina’s shirt.
She pulls back again, taking Karolina’s cheek into her hand and running her thumb slowly against her bottom lip as she shake her head softly. Looking at her through heavy lashes, Karolina lets out a soft laugh.
“Come on, you can pay me after.” she winks, pressing her lips flush against Shiv’s thumb.
A cold wave of shock washes over Shiv, paralyzing her. For a moment, all she can do is stare at Karolina like a crazed animal. Then, like a cord snapping, she pushes herself away until no part of their bodies remain connected.
“Christ, what the fuck, Karolina?” she blinks, barely spitting the words out past the wave of nausea rising in her stomach.
Karolina looks only mildly annoyed as she shakes her head. “It was a joke, Siobhan.”
“Yeah, well it’s a bad fucking joke.” Shiv scoffs, turning away to look anywhere else but at Karolina. “You know what, I’ll talk to you later.”
Not bothering to wait for a protest she knows won’t come anyway, she gathers up her things and all but runs out of the apartment, hoping the sound of the door slamming closed behind her might startle some sense back into Karolina.
-
She finds out the day it’s supposed to take place through Roman, and spends each night leading up to it biting her thumbs to shreds. Tom doesn’t ask why she’s barely sleeping these days, and she doesn’t ask him to stay up with her. He sighs, or she sighs, and they move along on their merry way like two placid ghosts, only mildly inconvenienced by the other’s presence.
Time stretches and constricts around her, the days dragging on endlessly at times, then rushing up to whisper dauntingly in her ear. A weeks passes like a year and a minute, Shiv counting each painful second one minute, then losing track of an entire day the next. By the end of it, she is dizzy and aching and, above all else, missing Karolina like she’d been ripped straight from under her rib. Like she’d always just been there, tucked away in the flesh of Shiv’s breast. Like all she’d been missing was a name for it, that tenderness, and no other could fit quite like Karolina’s. Either something vital, Shiv thinks, or something cancerous—eating away at her until each cell bears less of Shiv and more of Karolina.
Those damned hands never leave the space behind her eyelids, either, only growing bigger and hungrier with each passing moment. And the bigger they get, the more alcohol it takes to keep them at bay. The louder Karolina’s voice rings in her ears, too.
You can pay me.
Like there is a world where a price can be put on Karolina. Like there is a limit to what Shiv will relinquish, would Karolina ask for it. If there is a trading of bodies between them, Shiv realizes, it isn’t Karolina doing the trading.
And she knows, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she isn’t being fair. That the lines Karolina had drawn from the very first minute were as clear and neat as they come, and it’s only the ugly beast of Shiv’s heart that has muddled them beyond recognition. That whatever was festering inside of her was neither right nor righteous, but ugly and selfish, and there was very little separating her own hands from the ones she keeps seeing in her sleep.
Friday rolls around like a death row sentence, and she doesn’t bother drawing the blinds to pretend it isn’t even midday yet when she pours her first drink. She sets her phone in front of her and stares it down until it turns into a blurry blob in front of her eyes.
As the world slips into dusk, Shiv begins to feel the walls crowding her in, that ever-present vise tightening around her chest. Her hands feel numb and heavy as she keeps knocking them against the kitchen counter, against the whiskey bottle, against her glass and against each other.
In front of her, the phone remains silent and mocking.
Roman picks up on the third ring, and tells her it’s set for nine o’clock before she even asks. He doesn’t say anything except that she owes him one. It makes the corners of her eyes sting, but she can’t bring herself to acknowledge it, so she gives Roman a mumbled thanks and hangs up.
By eight o’clock, she is in a bar not too far from Karolina’s apartment, bracing herself against the bar top as she cradles her head in her folded arms. When she sits back up, the entire place sways softly and sweetly in front of her eyes, the warm lighting making the bottles on the shelves behind the bar shimmer like tiny stars.
When she orders another drink and it gets served with a complimentary dirty look from the bartender, a brief moment of clarity washes over Shiv. She catches her own reflection in the mirror panels that house the shelves of liquor and asks herself, for the first time since she’s arrived at this place, what it is she is actually trying to accomplish.
Hanging around Karolina’s neighbourhood like an obsessed ex, hoping for what, exactly, she can’t tell—for Karolina to stumble upon her? For the gutter to sweep her up and deliver her to Karolina’s door? For her hands to stop shaking long enough to do something useful for once and grab onto Karolina and take her away from this entire fucking mess? For Karolina to want it?
For those fucking hands to disappear from her mind.
Without thinking, she slams back her drink, throwing her jacket on before getting up. Her vision slips and slides away from her, and it takes a heavy grip on the bar to steady herself enough to make out a clear path to the exit.
“Sorry m’am, but you still need to pay.”
She turns to see the bartender watching her with the same disdain as earlier. Fumbling with her pockets, she takes her card out and all but throws it in his face. He closes out her tab and hands her back her card. As she reaches for it, he pulls it back.
“You, uh, good to get home?” he raises his brow, looking her up and down.
Straightening her shoulders, Shiv swipes the card out from his hand.
“Yeah, I’m fucking good.” she scoffs. “Got a friend who lives nearby.”
“You sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?” the bartender insists.
“I paid, yeah?” Shiv points the card back at him. “So fuck off.”
She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning sharply around and walking out of the bar.
As the cold air hits her, a shiver runs through her bones as she stares down at her hands, contemplating what to do next.
Then, as if waking up and realizing she’d forgotten to set an alarm, she takes her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. Five to nine.
Karolina had more than likely left already.
A wave of nausea washes over her, and her temples start throbbing. In rapid succession she sees it all—the wine, the drinks, the dessert, the hungry hands and Karolina’s soft skin, the shade of lipstick she keeps for special occasions, the light reflecting off of the tiny stones on her rings as she twists them out of habit. The dim lights and the scratchy car seats.
The alcohol has made her thoughts crueller, more daring, and now it isn’t just Karolina’s polite smile that taunts her, but her laughter, her own hands grabbing back, her lips claiming skin that isn’t Shiv’s. Now it’s Karolina herself playing the game for the sake of playing.
Looking up, Shiv’s mind is already made up—she’s had enough of sitting at the bar, kicking her feet and sipping on flat fucking soda.
-
She doesn’t look at the time again. As she enters Karolina’s building her fists are clenched tightly inside of her pocket, and she has to bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at Karolina’s doorman when all he does is politely greet and wave her through.
Her knuckles are red, she notices, as she knocks on Karolina’s door. She blinks, looking down to inspect her hand. Time’s slipped away from her all week, but she doesn’t remember punching anything, or taking up old hobbies again, so it must be the cold, she thinks. Except it wasn’t that cold outside. The whiskey then. Her tongue feels thick inside of her mouth, her teeth sharper. She presses her knuckles against her mouth, blowing softly to bring some warmth back into them.
Her body feels as if it’s on fire, but she can’t quite remember what the weather had been like outside, so she reasons she must be shaking because of the cold still.
“Siobhan.”
She blinks harshly as the door opens, bright light spilling around Karolina’s form like an avalanche. She is wearing a black dress to match the shadows under her eyes, her eyes narrowed into angry slits to match the fire burning inside of Shiv.
“Hey.”
She straightens her back as Karolina’s eyes rake over her, jutting her chin out defiantly. She tries to do the same, but can’t quite manage to follow the dancing shadows that make up Karolina’s form.
“You’re drunk.” Karolina says, tone clipped as she drums her nails against the door handle. “And I have a car picking me up in a few minutes.”
Pushing past Karolina, Shiv makes her way into the apartment. The sudden flood of light is dizzying, and she has to blink harshly as her eyes adjust. She turns to find Karolina looking at her expectantly, one hand cocked to her side.
Stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Shiv realizes the reason her knuckles were red—an ill-timed attempt to grab onto the ATM for support. Pulling out the contents of her pockets, she extends her hands out for Karolina to take.
“Don’t do it.”
Karolina looks at the stack of bills, her eyes not leaving it as she speaks through gritted teeth.
“Shiv, what is this?”
Shiv blinks. “You said I should pay you, so here.” she takes a step forward, pushing the money out towards Karolina. “I’m paying you not to go.”
Karolina laughs, raising a hand to her lips.
“Is this because you think I might actually fuck him?” she furrows her brows, her voice wavering as she finally locks eyes with Shiv. “One pat on the back from daddy and I’m bending over for the entire fucking village, right?” She swallows thickly, letting her anger coat her tongue like a shield. “That’s why you’ve been so concerned about me.”
Karolina’s sharp gaze, though blurred at the edges by the drinks she’s slammed back, is almost enough to make Shiv’s knees buckle.
“I—”
“Get out.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
Karolina takes a step forward.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
Shiv’s hands are still outstretched, the money making her palms burn as shame fills her, licking up at her insides and crawling up her neck.
She clears her throat, attempting to straighten her back, the light catching on each wrinkle on those goddamn bills.
“I’m not letting you do this, Karolina.”
“Letting me?” Karolina scoffs. “You need to leave, Siobhan.”
Shiv begins to protest as Karolina takes a step forward.
“Get out.” Karolina says, her voice devoid of emotion, though her eyes have become glassy.
Shiv shakes her head, a few errant tears spilling past her eyelashes, which she wipes at roughly with her forearm.
“Don’t fuck him.” she whispers harshly. “Please. Just don’t fuck him.”
As a last-ditch effort she motions weakly to the money in her hands, only to be met with a furious glare from Karolina. In a flash, Karolina’s hands are on Shiv’s wrist, attempting to wrangle her out of the apartment while Shiv struggles, kicking her feet as she tries to pull her hands out of Karolina’s grasp.
Far too dizzy to put up much of a fight, Shiv finds it harder to keep a single image of Karolina floating in front of her eyes than to push away Karolina’s hands. Taking a step back to clear her swaying vision, she doesn’t notice the small threshold separating Karolina’s dining room from her hallway until her heel connects with it, sending her flying back as the money she’s been holding scatters up in the air.
Karolina’s hand in on her arm instantly, catching her. Through the shock, all Shiv can feel are Karolina’s hands on her and Karolina’s worried gaze swimming in her eyes, hundred-dollar bills flying around them like dirty confetti.
Karolina’s hand never leaves her arm, the warmth of her palm seeping into Shiv’s skin like a soothing balm. Desperate to erase the scowl on her face, Shiv does the only thing she knows—the only thing she’s ever wanted to do. She kisses Karolina. Hungry and shameless, she presses herself flush against Karolina, though she keeps her hands by her side, not willing to let any of the grime off of that money touch any part of Karolina.
She feels Karolina pull back at first, the fingers wrapped around Shiv’s arm digging deeper as they push Shiv away. Then, with a soft exhale, Karolina’s other hand comes up to grip the back of her head as she pulls Shiv in.
As Karolina deepens the kiss, all Shiv can hear, feel or smell is Karolina. Karolina’s hand moves from the back of her head to her jaw, nails raking against Shiv’s cheek as it travels lower, fingers wrapping themselves around Shiv’s throat, and all Shiv can think of is how sweet of a death it would be, to let those fingers steal her last breath.
For a moment she thinks it might be happening—that Karolina might actually plan on killing her. That she might let her.
Her throat constricts as Karolina presses her hand against Shiv’s throat and it’s only when Karolina pulls back from the kiss and gives Shiv a sharp nod that she realizes what she’s doing. So, she lets Karolina push her back through the apartment, her heels slipping against the money littering the floor as she still refuses to let her hands stain Karolina’s skin.
Once she feels the sharp edge of a table hit the back of her thighs she stops. Karolina narrows her eyes, her nails digging into Shiv’s neck as her other hand grips her thigh, hoisting her up on the table. She pushes Shiv until her back is flush against the table, the glass cool as she presses her cheek into it.
A part of Shiv wonders briefly whether Karolina realizes she can only push so far while still gripping tightly.
Satisfied with her work, yet still keeping her hand firmly pressed against the column of Shiv’s throat, Karolina begins to kiss her way down Shiv’s neck, stopping only to sigh into her ear.
“You wanna pay for me, huh?” she says, her teeth grazing Shiv’s ear.
“No.” Shiv gasps.
“Yeah you do.” Karolina whispers sweet and sickly into her ear, before lifting her head to look Shiv in the eye. “You think you can buy me.”
Shiv swallows thickly, her neck straining against Karolina’s thumb.
“Karolina, I—“
Karolina cuts her off with a kiss, catching Shiv’s bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it with a wet pop.
“What are you going to make me do?” she raises her brow, her eyes tracing every contour of Shiv’s face as if drawing an intricate map of it.
“Nothing.” Shiv shakes her head.
“Oh, come on, Siobhan.” Karolina sighs in disappointment. “I’m yours, what do you want me to do?”
As she speaks, her hands travel the expanse of Shiv’s body. She wastes no time with niceties, gripping and tearing roughly until her hand dips below the waistband of Shiv’s trousers.
“Whatever you want.” Shiv gasps.
Unable to bear it any longer, she finally lets her arms wrap around Karolina’s back, dirty and shameful as they are.
“Anything you want.” she murmurs, her eyes drifting shut.
“Hm.” She feels Karolina’s breath hot in her ear as the ends of her hair tickle her neck. “Do you like this? This enough bang for your buck?”
She finishes the sentence with a soft pop that reverberates inside of Shiv’s ear like a war drum.
With every inch of her surrounded in Karolina—her perfume, her heaving breath, the ends of her hair tickling Shiv’s skin, her hands making her come undone, the only thing Shiv can do is nod.
She comes with Karolina biting down on her shoulder as she tangles her fingers in Karolina’s hair, both of them still pushing and pulling each other apart.
She’s still trying to catch her breath when Karolina gets up, deserting her on the now cold dining room table, whining and panting like a sick dog. Still dizzy, she allows the alcohol and Karolina’s perfume to rock her gently like a sailboat, as she listens to the rhythmic sound of Karolina’s heels clicking as she moves through the apartment.
Finally, she pulls herself upright, her stomach dropping as she takes in the bills strewn around Karolina’s house—her home. Yet another thing Shiv’s managed to taint.
“My ride’s here.”
She turns to see Karolina entering the room, tapping away at her phone, Shiv barely an afterthought. There isn’t an inch of her that hasn’t been smoothed or retouched to perfection. The only thing that betrays her is the flush spreading across the narrow strip of skin exposed by the neckline of her dress. It crawls up her neck, biting her cheeks, her lips slightly swollen underneath the meticulously applied lipstick.
“Karolina…”
Shiv pauses, waiting for Karolina to look up. She doesn’t, fishing around until she pulls out a set of keys and sets them on the table, next to Shiv’s hand.
“You can leave them with my doorman after you’re done cleaning all of this up.” she nods towards the floor.
As she makes to go, Shiv grabs her wrist. “Karolina, wait.”
Karolina turns sharply, her knees almost knocking into Shiv’s. The column of her neck is still flushed and damp with sweat. When she leans in to speak to her, another wave of her perfume rolls softly over Shiv, stinging the back of her throat.
Her eyes never leave Shiv’s as she speaks, her voice the coldest Shiv’s ever heard her.
“I am done with you, and your family. And your fucking money.”
Karolina doesn’t spare Shiv another glance as she delicately frees her wrist from Shiv’s grasp and exists the room, her heels clicking a haunting hymn throughout the apartment that lingers in Shiv’s mind long after she’s gone.
-
The first thing Shiv ever does in Karolina’s apartment in her absence is cry. Not a full, heaving chest sob, but a few simmering tears, her hands still gripping the dining table as she grinds her teeth into fragments.
The second thing she does is throw up.
For a moment, she contemplates not bothering to make it to the toilet. To spill her entrails all over Karolina’s nice floors and show her exactly what this entire affair had turned Shiv into—let her pick through the mess and see if she would’ve taken it better.
She doesn’t, ultimately settling for propping her head against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl whilst inspecting Karolina’s array of cleaning supplies tucked under her bathroom sink. After she feels herself moderately hollowed out, she grabs one of the bottles at random, splashing some liquid into the toilet before flushing.
As she moves from the guest bathroom to the one in Karolina’s bedroom where she’d started leaving a toothbrush out for her, she feels her body settling into a comfortable routine which she decides so cling onto.
So, she sets about brushing her teeth, before turning on the shower and busying herself with remembering which of the nearly identical bottles inside was Karolina’s body wash, before picking the one that smelled the best.
The shower seems to set her straight, and as she walks out into Karolina’s bedroom, the cool air feels like a cleansing wave as it envelops her. For the first time in days, she feels like she can take in a full breath, without some invisible vise gripping her heart.
If she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine Karolina somewhere in the house, her feet padding softly as she gets ready for work. She’d always wait as long as possible to wake Shiv up, always peeking through the door with a tiny frown and a steaming cup of coffee.
She can’t quite recall when it had snuck up on them, this twisted kind of domesticity. When being at home had begun to feel more like sneaking around than being here, with Karolina.
She rummages through Karolina’s drawers, picking out a pair of shorts and an old, oversized t-shirt from Karolina’s college days, Debbie Harry’s faded face shooting daggers at her as she dries her hair.
Karolina’s heels are still clicking a steady, deafening rhythm inside of her head as she sets about cleaning up the dining room, her knees sticking to the cold floor as she picks up each discarded bill and stuffs it into a garbage bag.
-
Like an alert dog, the sound of the door opening startles Shiv awake. For lack of something to throw over herself in some semblance of a shield, she tucks her hair behind her ears and steps out of the bedroom, her bare feet padding softly against the floor as she makes her way into the kitchen.
Karolina is leaning against the kitchen island, her back to Shiv. A bottle of gin sits next to her, its cap thrown on the other side of the island.
Shiv approaches her slowly, her mouth drying as she takes her in. Her hair is messier than it had been when she’d left, the ends of it curling around her chin. There are tiny flecks of mascara stuck to the corners of her eyes, and the flush hidden beneath her foundation had begun to peek through.
When Karolina finally turns to look at her, all she gets is a dismissive nod, before her attention returns to the glass she is cradling.
“Why are you still in my house?” she says, her tone flat as she drums her fingers against the glass.
“Well, someone had to make sure you were fucking okay.” Shiv huffs out a quiet laugh. “Guy could’ve gone all Silence of The Lambs on your ass.”
Karolina doesn’t say anything, only quirking an eyebrow as she downs her drink in one large gulp before filling it back up.
“So, uh, are you? Okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” Karolina nods. “I’m great.”
“Good, good.” Shiv purses her lips, biting the inside of her cheek as she takes a few more steps towards her, rounding the kitchen until she is sitting opposite Karolina. “Yeah, I also like to slam back straight gin when I’m okay.”
Only receiving a slow, distanced nod in return, she crosses her arms, staring down at Karolina’s clutched hands. “I got some takeout. I saved you some.”
“I already ate.”
“Okay.” Shiv sighs. “I, uh, also got some tiramisu—from that place you like.”
“I had dessert, too.” Karolina cuts her off with a glare.
“Right.” Shiv nods, lips pulled back in a tight smile. “Well, it’s in the fridge. Take-out’s in the microwave.”
She watches the tension coil inside of Karolina’s shoulders, her eyes darting wildly anywhere but in Shiv’s direction. With a determined exhale, she gets up to grab a glass for herself, sensing Karolina’s eyes following her as she moves to the cupboard behind her.
Glass in hand, she moves on to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of tonic water before returning to her seat with a proud smirk.
“So, how was it?”
She doesn’t meet Karolina’s gaze, feigning concentration as she makes her drink.
Karolina shrugs, clicking her nails against her glass, the muted trill sending goosebumps down Shiv’s arms. When she finally looks up, she finds Karolina looking at her, really looking at her, for what feels like the first time since this whole fucking mess had started.
Her gaze burns something shameful and awfully sad in Shiv’s chest, her grip on the bottle weakening as she fully takes in the exhaustion reflected in Karolina’s eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Shiv begins. “Karolina, I—”
Karolina silences her with a shaky hand.
“Shiv, what do you think of me?” she furrows her brows, gaze returning to the glass she is cradling.
“What do you mean?” Shiv murmurs.
Karolina pauses, her thumbs caressing the lip of her glass before she looks up again.
“You threw a stack of money at me.”
“That—I’m sorry.” Shiv closes her eyes, swallowing the shame tightening in her throat. “I didn’t mean—”
Karolina shakes her head, raising the glass to her lips. “If I told you I fucked him, what would you think?”
Shiv exhales a shaky laugh, frowning. “I think I’d track him down and break his fucking kneecaps.”
“If I said I’d wanted to?”
“Did you?” Shiv whispers, finding it excruciatingly painful to speak through the lump in her throat.
Karolina shrugs, reaching for the bottle of gin. Just as her hand meets it, Shiv stops her, wrapping her fingers tightly against Karolina’s wrist.
Karolina’s always run a bit cold, something Shiv would normally take great delight in teasing her about, but now her hand feels frozen to its core.
Then again, it might be Shiv that’s burning up.
“Karolina, did something…happen?” she swallows, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. “Are you…”
“I’m fine.” she pulls her hand from under Shiv’s, bringing the bottle with her.
This time, though, she throws in some tonic water as well, taking a sip as she shoots Shiv a pointed look.
“Are you?” Shiv asks, her voice raising as the hand that had been holding Karolina’s tightens into a fist.
“Nothing happened, Shiv.” Karolina looks at her, nodding softly.
Shiv releases a shaky breath. “Okay. Good.” she shakes her head. “I—good.”
She takes a large gulp out of her glass. The alternative, she thinks, might have made this her last drink.
“He called his colleague while he was dropping me off.” Karolina continues, her voice almost slipping back into her professional tone. “He’ll try to either push back our date or get the case quietly dismissed.”
“He better.” Shiv scoffs into her glass as she takes another sip.
They sit in silence for a while, Shiv sipping quietly at her drink as she watches Karolina’s glassy eyes move over the apartment, over Shiv, over her own hands, getting stuck on an errant thought, on the precipice of some sentence, before resuming their aimless search.
Finally, her eyes settle on Shiv.
“Why are you still here, Siobhan?” she says, quietly.
Shiv shrugs, a smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know, why haven’t you tried to kick me out again?”
“You don’t seem to listen when I do.” Karolina frowns, though it feels less like anger and more like curiosity.
The entire night crashes into Shiv like an angry wave, reminding her of everything that has brought them to this table. Reminding her that no matter how much she scrubs at her hands, they might never feel clean again.
“Tell me to go again and I will.” she whispers, throwing her drink back and placing it down with a quiet thud.
Karolina shrugs, waving a dismissive hand in front of her. She looks like something out a Hopper painting, shoulders fallen onto themselves and eyes cast downwards, into her glass, as if whatever answer she is looking for was hidden within her own reflection.
Taking a steadying breath, Shiv reaches out again, placing her hand gently against her forearm, willing Karolina to look at her.
“Karolina, you can tell me to fuck off, but just—you’re scaring me right now.”
Karolina bites her lip, shaking her head.
“What the fuck did I do?”
Shiv watches with muted horror as Karolina collapses in on herself, her entire body shaking as her head drops into her hands. Despite the freezing terror running through her, a quick jolt sends her rushing towards Karolina, her hands reaching for the woman’s shoulders like the columns of a crumbling building.
“Hey, hey—it’s okay.” she murmurs.
Karolina tenses under her hands briefly, making Shiv still her movements. Then, Shiv sees her shift her body slightly towards her, giving her all the encouragement she needs to wrap her arms fully around Karolina.
“You’re okay.” Shiv whispers, placing a soft kiss on the crown of Karolina’s head. “You saved all of our asses tonight.”
Karolina’s hair smells like perfume and smoke, and her skin feels cold and feverish at the same time. She barely makes a sound as she cries, the only evidence of it the tremor that rattles her, sending shockwaves down Shiv’s spine.
Bone-tired and still dizzy from all the alcohol she’s consumed for the past weeks, Shiv holds Karolina like they are two sailors lost at sea, each sob rocking Karolina’s body a wave that Shiv tries to shield them against, her grip tightening as she presses soft kisses into Karolina’s hair.
When she finally feels Karolina’s shoulders stilling, she takes a tentative step back to let her catch her breath, her hands still rubbing soft circles into Karolina’s shoulder.
Rubbing clumsily at her eyes, Karolina draws shaky breaths as she flakes bits of mascara off of her fingers. Once she’s caught her breath, she looks up at Shiv.
“I could’ve refused.” she swallows tightly, propping her head in one hand as she smiles ruefully. “I could’ve said no.”
Shiv shakes her head. Her hands reach out as Karolina begins to turn away from her, pulling her back until they are eye to eye.
“Hey, look at me.” she says softly, like she’s approaching a wounded bird, scared it might try to fly away. “Karolina, look at me.”
Karolina does, her eyes glimmering in the dim light. Red-rimmed and blurring into darkness, her eyes look like diamonds drowning in blood.
“You did everything right.” Shiv blinks, one hand gripping the back of Karolina’s head. “If you’re gonna blame anyone, blame me or that fucking perv, or dad or goddamn Karl. But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Karolina bites her cheek, a hand coming up to wrap loosely around Shiv’s wrist. “This is going stick to me like shit.”
“No, it’s not.” Shiv shakes her head, brows furrowed in anger as she rubs her thumb over Karolina’s temple. “And if it does, you’re the only one in that place worth any fucking thing, anyway. Let it stick—see if anyone’s dumb enough to say anything.”
Karolina laughs, squeezing Shiv’s hand.
“Evidently you haven’t spent enough time around that place.”
“I’ve spent enough time around you.” Shiv smiles, still frowning, though for the first time in what’s felt like months she feels some of the tension building inside of her ribcage begin to ease away, if only from the sight of Karolina’s upturned lip.
“You’re being very kind, Shiv.”
Shiv shakes her head.
“No, I’m really not a very kind person.” she says quietly.
Hand still gripping the back of Karolina’s head, she leans down to kiss her. It isn’t a soft kiss, both of them too bruised to ever grasp without a trace of hunger, but it stills something inside of them.
The waves begin to smooth out into lulling ripples. Despite the dark depths surrounding them, they can finally turn to take in the sight. To trace out some horizon line.
Karolina is the one to break it, her hand still wrapped tightly around Shiv’s as she looks up.
“You’re staying the night?” she asks.
“Mhm.” Shiv smiles. “`Till you tell me to go.”
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감이 오지? (Can You Feel It)
Yesterday <- || -> Kinktober Masterlist
Day Six: Daddy Kink w/ Shotaro
Word Count: 3,957
** a touch of choking, dominant!Shotaro, and mirror sex. Enjoy!
When you first met Shotaro, you thought he was pure and innocent. A few quick interactions with him over the span of a week, and your mind was changed. In front of the cameras and the fans he was the picture of adorableness, like a baby animal inspiring affection from everyone who looks at it. But behind the cameras, when that act fell, when the sweetly cherubic grin and giggles became a smirk and a challenging glint in his eye, you learned the reality of Osaki Shotaro.
He was a force to be reckoned with.
In your dancing career you’d worked with many teammates, coaches, choreographers, challengers. Shotaro seemed to take on all of those roles.
You had a couple years of experience on him, but there was no denying that he had the talent. He was an idol, you were a backup dancer. And he used his advantage to take charge of the practice room, and it amazed you when the choreographers stepped back and let Shotaro coach you and choreograph you and the other dancers. They sat back and let Shotaro analyze the way all of you moved, spitting out his corrections, singling out dancers who messed up. He was part of this team, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it.
At the end of the first week, you wondered if any of you were going to make it to the stage that you were all prepping for. Shotaro, as well as the choreographers themselves, had many comments and criticisms about all of you. Shotaro more so than the rest because he monitored all of you like a hawk, even where you stood in the back of the choreo all the time, he’d called you out on little mistakes a few times.
The other dancers would grumble, bitching about Shotaro under their breath when he left the room.
“Does he think this is the fucking military?” One of the girls groaned, collapsing to the floor when Shotaro and his manager left the room for a quick phone meeting. “Fuck, like, we don’t have to all be in totally perfect unison.”
On the one hand, you could see that side of things. Shotaro drilled all of you toward perfection, and that could be extremely exhausting. On the other hand, you agreed with Shotaro’s vision. Perfection, nailing each angle and move identically to achieve perfect unison was an impressive sight in choreography.
So you kept your mouth shut about him. You respected him, liked him even more because there was passion in him, a drive you admired, and there was something more that spoke to a deeply-rooted desire in you that you didn’t quite have a name for.
After a week and a half of practicing choreo, it all reached a breaking point. A storm had been building all day—a literal storm brewed outside, as well as the figurative one inside the room. When one of the girls finally snapped at Shotaro, she stormed out of the room, tired of him berating her about getting one move right. To be fair, it was the same move he’d tried telling her how to do properly several times, she was just refusing to listen to his instruction, and as she was taking a notable role in the choreo at that part, her messing up was obvious.
Practice was called to an end then as everyone’s tempers were running a little high. The other girls, the choreographers, and one of Shotaro’s team who’d been there to film the practice for behind the scenes content filed out of the room, leaving only you and Shotaro and his manager behind.
“I’m staying to practice some more, hyung,” Shotaro tells his manager. “I’ll just catch a ride to the dorm some other way.”
You linger at the back of the practice room, inconspicuously moving things around in your bag like you’re actually doing something more than biding time until his manager leaves. You don’t have to wait long. Shotaro’s manager flees as quickly as he can, as if he can escape the sour mood of the room.
When you straighten up from your bag, you see Shotaro watching you in the mirror.
“You didn’t want to run away like the rest of them?” He asks, a tone of annoyance in his voice. “I know they think I’m a dick. That I’m scary.”
You smile a little bit at that. He’s intimidating and a little bit of a control freak, but he’s not a dick and he’s certainly not scary.
“I’m not gonna run away, Shotaro.” You walk closer towards him, and when you’re close enough to touch him, you do. You reach out, pressing a finger to his shoulder, you give a light push. Shotaro’s eyes gleam, his lips tilting in a smirk, his body turning as you follow through with your push, starting to circle him. “I’m not scared of you, sir.”
You turn your back to him so you’re facing the mirror. You watch in the reflection the way his eyes sweep up and down your back, a long look that gives you the confidence to ask for what you want.
“Can you teach me her part in the choreography? I bet I can do it better.” You’re feeling cocky, but it’s not an ungrounded confidence. You know you can do her part in the choreography, you just want to show Shotaro that you know. Maybe then you’ll get a better role.
“Will you actually listen?” Shotaro asks, stepping up behind you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “She can’t seem to handle that.”
You nod, catching his eye in the mirror. “I can handle you. I’ll let you take control, do whatever you say.”
There’s a double meaning behind your words, and you pray Shotaro understands. You’re here for the choreography, but you’re here for him too. The respect and admiration you have for Shotaro isn’t limited just to his abilities as a dancer. He’s hot, and there’s something about the way he commands the room that you find so attractive, so sexy.
Shotaro clicks his tongue, and he tilts his head alongside yours. His breath fans over your cheek, sending your heart into a frenzy you try to hide. He tells you, “Follow my lead.”
He slides away from you, leaving you feeling cold. But you watch him move over to the speakers in the corner as he queues up the music. You move into position.
When the music starts, it’s easy. This part you know by heart, memorized over the last week and a half.
You watch the mirror, the seams in the wall-length mirror frame the room with only you and Shotaro in it. You follow your moves and his, noting the complimentary smooth movements, each angle perfect, each shift in weight timed precisely at the same moment.
It’s different doing this here without the others. Having to locate the proper position without the others there to help coordinate yourself, but you’re also playing a slightly different role now, and as the part comes up of the girl who stormed out earlier, you watch Shotaro even closer, measuring the distance between you and him so you do this perfectly as you move into his space from behind.
You’ve watched them perform this bit a dozen times to unsatisfactory results. She doesn’t ace it the way Shotaro wants, and she doesn’t have the level of chemistry with him that would sell the performance.
As you circle around to stand in front of Shotaro, you try your best to let out all the caged in feelings you have for him. Let it show in your performance, on your face and in the way you move with him.
“Loosen up just a little here,” Shotaro instructs, his arms moving around you, touching you to guide your body into the proper angle, his hands on your arms to move them into the exact position. “Other than that, you’re doing perfect.”
You continue the rest of the song seamlessly, his instruction flowing with the choreography.
When the song finishes, Shotaro moves over to pause the music, before coming back over to where you’ve sat on the floor.
“Let me show it to you exactly. Step by step.” He offers his hand down to you. You slide your hand into his, and Shotaro pulls you to your feet.
He doesn’t start any music as he moves you to stand in front of him. He just hums the counts, slipping easily into the choreography.
This dance is sexy, intimate, in the way that idols perform sexiness and intimacy in a performance through gaze and suggestion. You’ve watched him and the other dancer perform this multiple times over the last week or so. They never touch. It’s always sliding gazes and hands hovering above skin, but there are no points of actual contact when they dance together.
This evening, there is no space.
Shotaro’s hand comes to rest on your waist, his body sliding up behind yours.
It’s not even that there’s no space. There is an utter lack of space, an erasure of the meaning of the word, only clothes exist between your body and his.
You watch Shotaro in the mirror, his body curling around yours, his hand drifting over your belly.
Your entire body thrums with barely-contained desire.
You know this choreography, you know what it’s supposed to look like. You know without a doubt in your mind that you are no longer following choreography.
His hand drifts higher, rising from your belly to your sternum. You pray that he can’t feel your heart making a valiant escape attempt from the cage of your chest. His palm presses right over your desperate pulse.
“Shotaro,” you sigh his name.
“Mm?” He hums, and you swear you can feel it all the way to your core. Your eyes are locked on your reflections in the mirror, the sight of his head bowed over yours, his hand rising yet again to skip over your collarbones, his fingers spreading around your throat.
He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t apply any pressure as his hand comes up over your throat, but the picture in the mirror is just too pretty for you to contain yourself.
A whimper breaks free first. You body giving in to its base desires as your hips rock desperately, needing something. And that encourages Shotaro. He brings his other hand to your hip, holding your hips back against him as he strokes a thumb down the span of your throat, leaning down while lifting his gaze to meet yours in the mirror. His lips are just about brushing your cheek when he asks, “Okay?”
You nod.
“No, I need to hear you say it.” Shotaro’s thumb presses in then, sending a sharp thrill through you that dissolves your feeble brain-to-mouth filter.
“Daddy,” is all that comes out.
But it’s enough.
Shotaro smirks.
You reach for his hands, covering each of his with your own. You press your fingers against his around your throat, and your other hand pushes his hand at your waist down beneath your shorts.
“Touch me,” you beg, rolling your hips forward, curling your hands against both of his.
He pauses there, waiting. His fingers circling your throat, his other hand dipped just beneath the band of your shorts. Shotaro rocks his hips forward slowly, his body fits so perfectly against yours that you can feel all of your senses going a little haywire already.
“Look at you,” he coos softly, “Already so desperate for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet?”
You moan in response, rolling your hips back in circles against his growing erection. Shotaro’s fingers bump your chin, tipping your chin up so you’re looking yourself in the face in the mirror. You do look desperate for it. His hand looks so nice around your throat, a pretty necklace to compliment the way his hand looks as he buries it deeper inside your shorts.
The bulge of his hand in the material of your shorts is obscene, especially considering that if you flick your gaze just a little to the right, you can see the door to the practice room reflected in the mirror. The door isn’t locked, nor is it solid. There are window panes on either side of the door as well as a panel of glass set into the door. The hour is late, but not late enough that the company building is abandoned. If anyone were to walk by or–god forbid–step inside the room, what the two of you are doing would be incredibly obvious.
Not that Shotaro seems all that bothered at the moment.
His hand glides lower, skimming fingertips down into the heat, slipping over your clit, fingers spreading through your pussy lips to get to where you’re wettest.
All you can do is try to keep your head up, eyes fixed on you and him in the mirror. Try to keep quiet because you know how sounds echo from this room. That’s so difficult to do when Shotaro is swirling his fingers over your clit, replacing his hand on your neck with his lips.
“I wanna hear you say it again,” Shotaro murmurs against your throat.
“Daddy,” you moan without any further prompting.
He smiles at you in the mirror. “Good girl.”
You can’t help thinking of the sweet face Shotaro shows to the fans, starkly in contrast to his expression right now. He looks like he could eat you alive, in the best possible way, watching closely every change of your expression–the way that your mouth goes a little slack when he explores deeper inside your shorts, teasing his fingers there at your entrance. He grinds his hips against your ass in circles that match his movements against your clit. Your head sinks back against his shoulder, but still you watch your reflection.
The pair of you look good together like this.
It’s explicit, obscene, this dance you both improvise. Your bodies roll together; Shotaro’s erection fits firmly in the cleft of your ass, and soon he’s moaning in your ear as your ass squeezes around his covered bulge. His fingers work quick circles over your clit. You watch as your knees buckle a little. Shotaro’s arm goes tight around your waist.
“Can Daddy fuck you?” He asks, grinding forward slowly, drawing out the sensation.
All reservations about the unlocked door of the practice room, the possibility of being caught, all of those fly out of your mind, replaced instead by the overwhelming need to be dicked down by Shotaro right here, right now in front of this mirror in the practice room.
“Yes, God, please.” You reach for the waistband of your shorts, already pushing them down before Shotaro can get another word out. “Fuck, Shotaro.”
His hands twist in your shorts, dragging them down the rest of the way, and you look up into the mirror to see him admiring your bare ass in the moment right before he brings his hand down against it. “What did you call me?”
Shotaro, you’re tempted to say again, but you know what he wants to hear. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”
“Good girl,” he says, ducking in to peck you quickly on the cheek. “Now get on your hands and knees.”
The practice room’s flood is hard on your knees immediately. You face the mirror, watching Shotaro reach his hand inside his sweatpants, eagerly awaiting him pulling his cock out. He doesn’t disappoint. His cock is thick and heavy in his hand when he reveals it, and you wish you had more of a chance to admire it, perhaps the chance to suck his cock, but Shotaro drops to his knees behind you, his hands once again landing on your hips and your ass.
Your entire body is flushed with the heat of your arousal as Shotaro slicks his fingers up against your weeping pussy. “Gonna be so sweet for Daddy, aren’t you? Finally getting what you’ve been wanting, right? Do you think I haven’t seen you during practice, watching me from the back? I’ve been watching you too, sweetheart.”
“Watching me too?” You ask, losing yourself in a gasp as Shotaro sinks two fingers into you.
“Couldn’t you feel me watching you?” Shotaro asks. “You sure seemed like you were putting on a show sometimes when I watched you in the mirror.”
Of course you were. You were practicing for a performance. Though, admittedly, there had been a few occasions when you had thought you’d seen Shotaro’s attention lingering on you, and perhaps you’d put a touch more into looking sexy. But you weren’t about to admit that aloud to him.
Shotaro fucks you on his fingers, scissoring them inside you. “Gotta make sure you’re ready to take me,” he explains when you drop your head forward between your shoulders with a whine and a desperate push back of your hips.
“No, I’m ready. I can take it.” You lean down on your elbows, rocking yourself back on his fingers. “Just give it to me, Daddy.”
Shotaro hesitates for only a moment, and then he’s moving, pressing forward, nudging his cock up against your entrance, his fingers sliding down to entertain your clit instead, and there he goes, pushing into you. You moan, lowering your face into your arms. Shotaro is big, thick and heavy as he draws deeper inside you. All you can do is breathe through it, adjusting to him.
“Does it feel good?” Shotaro asks, his tone teasing as he pulls back slightly to give a little thrust. A garbled sound is all that escapes you, to his amusement. “Can you feel it, sweetheart? Or should I do it a little harder?”
Another garbled sound from you, though you hope this one sounds like encouragement. He feels so… filling. Stretching you around him in a way that leaves you feeling complete in that moment. And when he starts moving, giving shallow thrusts at first, your eyes roll and you have to keep your head buried in your arms.
Slowly the steady rolling of Shotaro’s hips grows more intense. Bigger thrusts with bigger reward. Your heartbeat is ever-present in your pussy and in your belly and everywhere, even in your fingertips as your attempt to push up from the floor at last, wanting to look at the image of the two of you reflected in the mirror.
It’s a pretty sight. Shotaro’s head is bowed, watching his cock disappear inside you, watching the way your pussy stretches and hugs his cock. His hair is damp at the temples, curled a little in front of his face. He’s so handsome in that moment, so sexy and cute and crushworthy, all you want is to twist back around and drag him into a kiss.
But before you can go about initiating the change in position, Shotaro gives one particularly sharp- and well-aimed thrust that knocks the strength right out of you. Your arms give out again, and you once more bury your face against them.
Shotaro picks up a steady stream of fuckfuckfuck, and you feel as if you’re not too far from it either. His fingers work rapidfire on your clit, his other hand reaches for your hair, pushing his fingers through it like he’s about to yank on it (which you really wish he would because damn that would feel so good), but instead he brushes your hair aside in favor of curling his fingers once more around your throat.
Your gasp of surprise catches as Shotaro applies pressure to your throat just right, skilled like he actually knows what he’s doing, his thumb pressing in. Your eyes roll, your heart pounding, a thrill racing through you.
Shotaro choking you is that perfect strike of flint, the spark that sets you alight.
Your orgasm rocking through you does nothing to slow Shotaro. He fucks you through it until your thighs are twitching, your eyes roll and stream with tears. His fingers are still fast-moving on your clit. This is much, much more than you could have hoped for–the sweet, innocent Shotaro you’d first met a little over a week ago is long gone, replaced by this dominant Shotaro who keeps pressing into you even as you’re tipping into overstimulation.
His fingers slip from your throat, and you gasp in a clear breath, exhaling his name.
Shotaro’s fingers twist in your hair, pulling you up so your back is against his chest, holding your head up so all you can see is your face, teary-eyed and flushed with arousal, staring back at you from the mirror.
“Look at yourself, pretty girl, look at how good I make you feel.” Shotaro’s lips are against your ear, his breath hot on your cheek. “I hope you think about me, about Daddy’s cock deep in your belly, every time you’re in this room, looking in this mirror while you try to dance.”
You somewhat doubt that you’ll ever look in a mirror again without thinking of this.
Shotaro holds you there like this, faced with yourself in the mirror as he continues thrusting into you, your body rocking on hands and knees, your face contorting with the pleasure as Shotaro finally hits his breaking point.
You lift your gaze to his face as Shotaro cums. You watch his face crumple, his mouth fall open as he moans for you, moans in relief while he pulls out of you. You can’t see, but you can feel, as Shotaro jerks off over your ass, his cum splattering over your lower back, painting your ass, dripping down the cleft of your cheeks over your pussy.
Shotaro slumps back onto his heels on the floor, his breath coming hard and heavy for a few moments. You finally let your legs slide out from under you, bury your face in your arms again, and you lie there like that to recover, not even caring that your bare cum-covered ass is out for the world to see.
It’s only when Shotaro regains his senses, tucking his cock away, crawling over your stretched out form, that you’re covered up. You make a half-formed sound when you feel him shimmying your shorts back up your legs, up over the sticky mess he left on you. Shotaro’s hands settle on either side of your hips as he leans over you. His lips touch against your shoulder, his fingers brush against your hair.
“Hello? Are you okay?” His voice is light, teasing. “Did my cock knock you out, pretty girl?”
You twist around beneath him, rolling onto your back. Shotaro grins, cocky and pleased with himself at how dazed and dick-drunk you still look.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and you only have time to nod halfway before Shotaro kisses you, his lips warm and intoxicating, making you forget that you’re still on the floor of the practice room. That all of this has transpired in the practice room, on what is probably a less-than-sanitary floor. But he’s kissing you, and you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than that.
Your fingers twist in the front of Shotaro’s shirt, holding him there, keeping him kissing you until you’re both breathless.
Shotaro drops a last peck to your lips, and as he sits up, lifting himself away from you, you try to draw him back in for one more. He only laughs, tapping a finger against your lips. “Ah, ah, pretty girl. It’s getting late.” He sits back on his heels to watch you push up onto your elbows, and then he asks, with a grin that throws you back to the cherubic version of him you first met, “Do you think you could give me a ride home?”
#shotaro smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct fic#nct#shotaro#nct kinktober#kinktober#kinktober 2022#this was a long one oops i feel like the lengths of these get longer each time
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Sebastian Vael
Opinion: Sebastian Vael isnt boring, you all are merely unwilling to recognize a victim of religious brainwashing and abuse when it’s someone like him.
Firstly, let’s establish a timeline.
Canonically, in Act 3 of Dragon Age two, Sebastian claims he has not seen Starkhaven, his home, in fifteen years. He was forced into the Chantry shortly after his grandfather gave him his bow, which was at 13 years old, making Sebastian, at minimum, 13 when he was forced into the Chantry. This timeline honestly doesn’t sit right with me. Given the reason his family put him into the Chantry was they were “worried he would sire a bastard child”, this implies Sebastian, at 13 years old, just hitting puberty, was already having such an active sex life (which has alarming implications on it’s own), that his parents decided to take action and force him into Chastity.
I find it far more likely Sebastian was 16 at youngest when he was doing this, thus making him 31 or so by Act 3. While a hypersexual 16 year old is still concerning, it’s far more believable than a 13 year old.
Regardless, Sebastian was shoved into the Chantry between 13-16 years old in Kirkwall, under the watchful eyes of Grand Cleric Elthina.
To understand Sebastian’s behavior, we must understand Elthina’s interactions with him.
Elthina plays the roll of overbearing and manipulative mother to Sebastian, as he doesn’t seem to ever see his mother again after being thrown into the Chantry. Elthina, throughout DA2, is seen berating Sebastian for his behavior, for his mere personality. Sebastian acts impulsive, she yells as him, he makes friends outside the Chantry, she yells at him. He’s considering his faith and trying harder to be devout, it’s not good enough, and she yells at him. Elthina repeatedly comes at Sebastian like a chastising mom and gets frustrated when he questions her or disagrees. Elthina is even seen/ heard trying to make things Sebastian’s fault, as if his impulsive and inquisitive personality is glaring flaw. She does not tolerate him questioning her.
Sebastian always leaves his conversations with Elthina confused or frustrated, as she’s defensive and shuts him down immediately.
Given this, we may also examine Sebastian’s habit of relating things back to Andrastianism and his faith. Based on how hard Elthina drills things into his head with Hawke around, it’s entirely possible that before Hawke arrived in his life, Sebastian blindly followed whatever she said. It’s not exactly clear what Sebastian specifically dealt with before he met Hawke, but given Kirkwall’s Chantry is as corrupt as the rest of the city, there’s a possibility he wasn’t fed his beliefs and the Chant of Light by reading.
When Sebastian recites things about the Maker or the Chant, at times it feels as though he’s more so trying to convince himself more than anything, especially given he doesn’t try to push his beliefs onto others. The closest he gets to that is A) helping Fenris navigate his own struggles with faith, B) suggesting to Merrill it’s possible both faiths are correct and can can coexist.
Another thing that leads me to believe he’s not as invested in his faith as he claims is one quote from him to Varric. “Varric, would the Maker but approve, you and I could be more than the best of friends”.
Opinion: Youre gonna look me in my eyes and tell me that’s a straight sentence from a heterosexual man??????????
It’s established that Sebastian was going to be bisexual, but that the devs decided he was only to be romancable by Female Hawke due to him being in the Chantry.
Thus another thing Sebastian is forced to hide about himself.
Sebastian’s interactions with Elthina often leave him sad, distressed, and confused. It’s these moments that often make him question himself more than any other time. He expresses regret after acting out of anger fueled impulse and questions if it was the right thing to do, but after Elthina berates him, he’s more likely to question his own thoughts and personality as it relates to her and their shared faith. She has whittled away at his self worth that he actively talks about how his behavior, no matter how justified, isn’t appropriate.
And this all STILL doesn’t even talk about the issues he must have had as the youngest of three in a royal family. His parents had their heir and their spare, where did that leave him? He never mentions his parents much, only his grandpa, and even directly brings up the heir and spare thing. I’m willing to bet Sebastian was an oopsie baby; an unexpected third child in the family and due to him not fitting into the heir/spare dynamic, his parents focused on their older sons, ensuring they got attention and proper ruling education. This would leave Sebastian to be raised by servants and taught by his grandfather, I also find it possible that Sebastian may have had a decent age gap between himself and his siblings, thus further isolating him from his family. In fact, that could explain why he’s so accepting of others in the Kirkwall gang ragging on him. It’s interaction and attention.
This could also explain the copious amounts of sex and partying that lead to him getting tossed into the Chantry. He got attention from his bed mates and fellow partiers, and eventually it got his parents to pay attention to him. Though it inevitably backfired on him, as they tossed him away to forget about.
TL;DR: Sebastian Vael was likely neglected emotionally and has suffered from Chantry brainwashing and never realized. He’s not boring, most just find him irritating due to their own issues with religion and don’t look at what his backstory truly is.
#sebastian vael#dragon age sebastian#dragon age 2#da2#da2 sebastian#character analysis#long post#dragon age#prince sebastian vael
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could you make a drabble or a fic, whatever you’d like, of eddie comforting reader for being teased at school for no tits, like absolutely non flat chested type thing, and insults like boy body, stuff like that. it can end with smut or not either way, tysm and i love your writing 💗
hi lovey! i hope you're not going through this rn, but if you are i'm sorry that people have such mean things to say! i hope this helps :)
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Thankfully, Eddie catches you on the way out of your last period class, he doesn't come in to get you. Had he come in, he'd have seen a gaggle of self-centered cheerleaders, all mocking you for having a less-than-buxom figure.
"Why do you even need this?" One of the girls snapped your bra strap against your shoulder and the others laughed, "It's not like there's anything there to support."
"Shut up!" One of the other girls cackled, "Do you think she special orders them for her size?"
"I bet it's just a boy's tank top," Another sneered, "It's not like she needs actual cups."
You shuddered at the memory after you'd finally managed to escape them, running headfirst into Eddie's chest as he leaned casually against the wall outside of the classroom that you'd turned towards when exiting the room. He laughed good-naturedly at your clumsiness, his hands pressing against your forearms as he steadied you.
"Jesus, y'okay sweetheart? If you keep your head down you can't see." He tips your chin up with one finger, frowning at the lost look in your eyes.
"What's'a matter, baby? Test go okay?" He remembers the late-night study session you'd had last night, flashcards still strewn about your room.
"Test was fine." You mumble, wincing when the group of cheerleaders push past you to get out of the room, knocking you further into Eddie and snickering when they collide with you, "Can we go?"
Eddie glares sharply at the girls who pay him no mind, all swishy ponytails and skirts as they chatter on about the basketball game tonight. His fists clench by his sides but you grab them, smoothing them out so that you can tuck your hands into his own.
His fingers curl around yours and he glances back at you, nodding solemnly as he lets you lead him out to the parking lot. He keeps a protective grip on your waist that warms your heart, and you can't help but giggle as he rushes for the door of his van, opening it for you and bowing dramatically.
"My lady." He speaks in a low voice, practically bent in half as he herds you into his van. You step up into your seat, and when you turn back to the door to close it you find his face right beside your own, a cheeky grin on his lips as he presses them to your cheek.
You squirm under the forceful affection, your head pushed to the side as he seems to be trying to bruise his lips against your cheek. You can feel him giggling against the kiss and you finally give in, squealing a high-pitched, "Eddie!" that makes him break away. Before you can berate him for his antics he slams the door shut, racing around to the driver's side of the van and hopping in.
He doesn't bother with his seatbelt, turning towards you with the fond smile still lingering on his lips. It's fading fast, however, and you know what's next.
"Wanna talk about why those girls shoved you?"
"They were teasing me." You sigh. You don't want to hide anything from Eddie, not when he's already so concerned. The fire in his eyes when he'd seen you get shoved was somewhat surprising, but you're flattered to know that he cares that much about you.
"About?" His jaw tightens as his suspicions are confirmed.
You bite your lip, the words embarrassing coming from your mouth, "My body. They- they said my chest was too small."
"Well so are their boyfriend's dicks," Eddie gripes, "Who gives a fuck?"
"Eddie!" You can't help but huff out a laugh at his eager defamation of basketball players, "It's fine, it doesn't matter. I can't really do anything about it, 's not like I can just grow bigger boobs."
"Even if you could you shouldn't want to," He scowls, "At least, not 'cause of them. Would you be upset about it if they hadn't said anything?"
"No," You admit, "But I just-"
"But nothing," Eddie huffs, shaking his head so that his hair flies everywhere, "It's their problem. And it's not their body, so it makes no fucking sense why they're griping about it. I'll talk to 'em."
"No," You pleaded, eyes going wide, "I can't have my boyfriend tell my bullies to be nice to me! They'll just tease me more!"
"No they won't." He smirks, settling against the seat with his arms over his chest, "You forget, the school thinks I'm possessed or some shit."
"What, you're gonna threaten to curse them?"
"Yes!" Eddie confirms, amusement dancing in his eyes, "Can you imagine? They'd be scared shitless, it would be so good!"
"Don't bully them back," You scoff, though a fond smile creeps over your face, "Just let me deal with it. If they do it again, I'll let you know, but for now let's just ignore it."
"Alright," Eddie relents, reaching for your hand across the seat, "Y'know your body's, like, perfect, yeah?"
"Eddie," You groan, your face growing hot, "Don't-"
"I gotta! Y/N," He huffs determinedly, "What kind of a boyfriend would I be if someone shit talked my girl and I didn't even tell her it wasn't true?"
"It's okay, Eddie." You smile at him, albeit a little weakly, "I'm okay. I know they're just being mean, and you don't have to rectify their mistakes."
He giggles a little at the word 'rectify', and you curse his immature sense of humor. He pushes through, though, leaning over to pop a kiss onto your other cheek now.
"I know I don't have to," He lingers by your face, and you turn to look into his eyes, "But I want to. 'Love tellin' you you're beautiful, sweetheart." He confesses, kissing your nose next, "'S my favorite thing to do."
You highly doubt that, but you play along.
"Oh, yeah?" You murmur, your breath hitting his face, "Why?"
"'Cause it's true." He insists, finally pecking your lips, a few strands of his hair tickling your face, "And 'cause it gets you all flustered."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson one-shot#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson headcanons#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson hc#eddie munson hcs#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson dialogue#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader fanfiction
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After watching Across the Spiderverse for the second time, I think I’ve finally managed to put into words what about Miguel’s characterization made me so conflicted. Obviously spoilers below.
While Miguel is clearly intended to be a sympathetic antagonist I don’t think that intention is fully realized in the movie, because from the minute we meet him, we know that he’s wrong in his conclusions. Miguel is supposed to be a “the ends justify the means” archetype, but after his explanation on why canon events cannot be disrupted Miles immediately points out the obvious- how can his father dying being a canon event when it is cause by a dimensional anomaly? And more than that, based on Miguel’s logic Miles’ world should have collapsed long ago because it was missing its Spiderman, a person who was not meant to die in that timeline. It’s the same as replacing a person who was meant to die only now there’s a gaping hole in the world where a person was meant to exist. Also- nothing about what happens in Into the Spiderverse is a result of any canon disrupting phenomenon, nothing could have been done to prevent it and none of what happened is Miles’ fault. (there’s more evidence against Miguel’s logic but these were the most obvious ones to me). One of the most crucial aspects of a sympathetic antagonist is being able to sympathize with *why* it is they do what they do. Miguel’s logic hardly holds up past its introduction which means that gets thrown out the window very quick as a viewer.
The next thing then, would be for us to see how Miguel leads the other spider people and what makes him into such an inspiring leader to these thousands of heroes. And the movie... doesn’t really show us much of that, to be honest. The best moment we get is when Miguel is explaining the concept of canon events to Miles, because he is genuinely understanding and empathetic. It’s very compelling to his portrayal- but for me it was overshadowed by his anger. The moment Miguel meets Miles, the first thing that he does is chuck something at the kid full force towards his head. And then in the chase afterwards, Miguel gets increasingly more violent and spiteful towards Miles because Miles’ keeps angering him- which is something that is expected of him from the other characters- Gwen is visibly nervous at the idea of Miles speaking to Miguel at all. Jessica is also well aware of these angry outbursts when she warns Gwen about failing to catch the Spot. All these things, along side the final scenes of the movie giving him solid red as his backlighting serve to make him seem far more villainous than antagonistic in his narrative role.
About his introduction with Gwen, I do think it gives him that sympathetic light, but it is important to point out that he only begrudgingly gave into Jessica’s request when Gwen had literally nowhere else to return to and then the moment she messes up he sends her home (theoretically back to that exact terrible scenario where he dad wants to arrest her) with no support. So for me its still kinda ://
I don’t consider Miguel a villain, and I’m really interested to see what they do in this next movie with his character because I do believe he’s going to get redeemed. And I genuinely think that he believes in his cause based on the terrible tragedy he had to endure, but that something about what happened with him is different than what is happening with Miles and the other worlds’ canon events. Honestly I wish we had seen more of the citadel and Miguel outside of Miles’ introduction to it. It’s clear that Miles himself is a very sore spot for Miguel which doesn’t make him the most objective character to see Miguel through.
Also on that note, Jessica Drew has a lot of the same issues as Miguel on a smaller scale because while she’s amazing for her introduction scene, after that she’s downright rude and dismissive of Gwen at every turn despite claiming Gwen to be her “star pupil” (this was said sarcastically while she was berating Gwen). While I understand why Jessica was so upset- Gwen really and truly did mess up by letting the Spot escape. It’s hard to see her as a good mentor when that anger is 90% of what we’re seeing out of her in the movie. It’s only at the end when Gwen gets a few sympathetic glances from her that she seems more similar to how she was in her introductions. The movie was packed to the brim as is but I do wish they had even more runtime to expand on these things. I want to believe in the sympathetic nature of both these people but the movie gives very fleeting attempts at doing so.
#across the spiderverse#ATSV#across the spiderverse spoilers#ATSV spoilers#miles morales#miguel o'hara#gwen stacy#jessica drew#on my hands and knees praying that the rabid miguel fans dont come after me#i just wanna talk about things in depth#the first comment i made along these lines got a response that was literally just 'youre dumb and stupid' without even arguing with me#which was >:(#come back and give me your argumentative points you coward#idk these two characters are just portrayed so antagonistically#i dont believe in villainizing them completely bc that goes against the spirit of the movie#but i also can understand those who walk away with that take
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Rewatching OPQ and I'm endlessly fascinated by Carol and Micael and Panacea like They Are Meant To Be The Good Guys. They're So Protagonist Material They're So Final Girls. To Me
Micael and his lifelong shadow of going into science and paranormal anthropology and falling in love with it. Constantly being referred to as his mom's son rather than on his own accomplishment as a researcher and treated as strange for being fascinated by the creatures they're meant to exterminate. His research being treated as meaningless and unhelpful despite bringing heaps of new information about the creature's living habits and speed and strength and the folklore around it when he's expected to find its weaknesses. Finally gathering the resources and willpower to put an end to the murder of the world's most extraordinary superpredator and saving the lives of patients Zero and teaching them all they need to know so they could keep themselves alive, finally being cut off from communications and authority by his own mother while he's still in the dying facility, having to rely on the remaining goodwill of the people he saved only to have them turn on him, become the thing meant to hunt and kill what he was trying to protect and ultimately be regarded as nothing more than a fleshy obstacle to be torn apart by his beloved
And I want to know what Carol's Deal Is
She seemed close enough with her co-workers to recognize their mangled bodies as they walked along the corridors. Her and her D coworkers talking shit about the higher ranks and how they think they're better than them and how unabashedly biased the emergency safety procedures are
She's the only one outspoken about her belief in Panacea and the good they're doing and almost treats it like a dream designer job and the rest of them still believe they're doing the right thing But they've got other things in life to think about besides saving the world like will this research be worth to pay for my dad's medical bills if I ask for a leave will I make it to my sister's birthday
Carol is a bit of an oddball but they find her enthusiasm and zeal charming until she's berated for a report by a rank B for "not respecting the subject and the research put into it" when all she did in the report was put aside the previous research (that she felt was a bit too biased and didn't really contribute much in terms of Nidere's weakness as much as it praised it) and opted to try and explore ways of taking it down. Her co-workers still talk and chat, but it hasn't been the same in weeks now
She's used to listening in on conversations because she's sure they're talking about her
I wanna know if she's always been willing to sacrifice anyone 'less valuable' or when she started categorizing people by their worth or if something in there happened. Carol almost being sacrificed in the dorms to ensure the safety of the team while they run to activate the collision backfiring when Carol panics and pulls the fire alarm that blares outside of the door and they're the ones trapped outside now while she huddles under the beds. Plotting to turn on them the second they can escape- no matter how much Panacea views her as a disposable pawn she still would never let the world be subject to the infection running though their veins, even if they had to fight her for it, throwing dead weight to the monster to keep the rest of them going, and dying believing she helped save the world
But we're Not looking at it from the perspective of heroes trying to protect the world from superviruses or mutated monsters or morally dubious researchers trying to preserve life in a wasteland, we're seeing it through the eyes a group of broke asshole strangers being forced to work together to survive and protect each other and that makes all the difference honestly
#ordem paranormal#ordem paranomal quarentena#opq carol#opq micael#opq mikael#which is it. tell me more about them
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Can you explain in detail how Hinazumi are the perfect catalysts for each other's character developments?
//Ok, so I really just mean this in a context outside of DR2, because the actual potential is never really explored. The number of canonical interactions outside of the FTE's that Hajime and Mahiru have is actually fairly minimal, but here's how I see it.
//If you don't take this post at face value...that's fine, I don't expect you to. I'm just explaining how things look from my perspective on things.
//From Mahiru's perspective, her own problems originate from the fact that she grew up pretty lonely and has a very skewed idea about how people are supposed to act based on their gender. The reason why she's so harsh towards most guys is because she sets very high expectations for how they're supposed to act; usually to be tough and to protect girls, and she thinks that men and women need to have some sort of symbiotic relationship. But this is a VERY problematic mindset due to the things it makes Mahiru say and do. She snaps at boys for even the smallest slight and berates them, meanwhile she would probably let Hiyoko get away with murder, and never calls her out when she's horrible, even towards people like Mikan.
//This is different with Hajime. In Mahiru's Free Time Events it's pretty clear that whether you see it as romantic or not (Mahiru DOES confess to Hajime at the end of her island mode, but putting that aside) Hajime describes how he feels "not a single atom of awkwardness" at the suggestion that they would carry on their relationship after leaving the island, and Mahiru promises to give him her old camera, something that matters to her a lot based on the dialogue.
//In a post-DR2 setting, Hajime is the one guy who I think can calmly give Mahiru a reality check and berate her on her own unfortunate quirks the same way she does to most people, WITHOUT earning her wrath. Mahiru trusts Hajime, as shown in the FTE's, and it's not the same kind of forced trust in others that Danganronpa does normally where it's just through the power of friendship. They're hesitant to call each other "friends" at first because of Mahiru's high-strung look at the world, but the fact that in spite of that and how she initially sees Hajime as unreliable, she still puts her faith in him, trusting him with things like her camera and Nagito's food. And the reason is because she thinks he IS reliable, she just doesn't outright say it.
//So in that manner, Hajime is a good catalyst for Mahiru to sort of...simmer down and face herself, to figure out what's wrong with her and what she can improve. Especially when Hajime had to do that to literally save all their lives at the end of DR2. I think she would be inspired by that.
//Then there's how it is from Hajime's perspective, which actually takes a lot of this ^^^ into account.
//By all intents and purposes, besides Nagito (which even then is debatable) Mahiru is the closest thing to a "normal" person in Danganronpa 2. Her talent as a Photographer is brought up a lot, but aside from that and her own ideals, she's just a really normal girl who relates to Hajime in a lot of ways. So in that regard, I can see them being close initially.
//Hajime's big issue post DR2 is having to cope with the enormous weight that he bears on his shoulders. Not only is he now the de facto leader of a group of ex-terrorists, and holds himself responsible for their actions, but he has so much trauma to cope with. Including, but not limited to, Chiaki's death, his actions in causing the tragedy, having been the one to corrupt the program in the first place, and also being primarily responsible in the goal to redeeming his squad, as well as the fact that he now has infinite Ultimate talents, can do anything, and now needs to figure out what he's going to do about THAT.
//Hajime signed himself up for all of this and he's more than willing to live with his choices, but he feels he has to basically having to cope with the belief that he's one of the biggest piece of shit guys in the world, and is also a veritable god. Two things that Mahiru KNOWS he's not.
//As I said already, Mahiru TRUSTS Hajime for the kind of person he is naturally; a guy that she can depend on. So when Hajime thinks he's not worth it, or when he thinks he's a problem, it then becomes Mahiru's job to be there for him and remind him that this really isn't the case.
//I don't think I really point this out enough, but there's one very important thing about Hajime and Izuru that sets them apart. Both of them have infinite Ultimate Talents, and because of it, struggle to find excitement in anything they do in their lives, because everything just comes naturally to them. But Hajime has been able to overcome this problem, and it's for one key reason: He's doing it with his FRIENDS.
//We can kind of see this in the current arc with Izuru's own brand of character development now that he's in control of Hajime's body. Hope's Peak erased Hajime's personality from the ground up to remove any emotional weaknesses that his personality would have, leaving Izuru as a blank slate. But now that Hajime's gone, Izuru is spending time with the likes of Chiaki, Akane and Mahiru, and he's actually DEVELOPED as a result. He smiles when he's with Chiaki, he enjoys spending time with her, and he's very charitable towards the others even though he sticks with a stone face. He's becoming less of a force and more of a PERSON thanks to spending quality time with Hajime's friends.
//Hajime has lifelong friends by his side, and the Remnants are so close they're basically a family. Isolation is his WEAKNESS. Without his friends or some sort of companion by his side, Hajime is just left with that boring reality that he's good at everything and there's no excitement or joy in his life. The source of that excitement comes from doing things TOGETHER with the people he cares about.
//And Mahiru KNOWS this, since her ideals about men and women that Hajime would help her work out of comes from that same isolation. Growing up, her mother was mostly absent due to being a war photographer and out of the country all the time, her father didn't really take care of the house, her, or himself, and her only good friend growing up prior to Hope's Peak was Sato. She's also, supposedly, been cut off from a lot of people because of her talents as a photographer, even though she herself is a fairly normal person.
//Mahiru knows what it's like be lonely, and she knows what it's like to be seen for your talent and nothing else. She's probably the ONLY one who understands Hajime's specific circumstances of having so much pressure on him and not feeling like he can share it, and that's not a fate that she would wish on him. Which is why she's the perfect person to help him through it.
//Honestly, it feels stupid that I ever thought anyone other than Mahiru could be Hajime's girlfriend for this specific series.
-Mod
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Track Five, Master list
Can I see ya tonight Princess?
You stare down at your phone in the cramped bathroom with walls graffitied from sharpies and old band stickers. The band playing outside on their second half of the set but suddenly being in the crowd right at the front of the stage became a little too much.
Especially when the drummer kept the hype of the crowd up while the lead singer rested her vocals for a moment.
It instantly made you sick, made tears form in your eyes as you shoved your way through a mosh pit narrowly escaping an elbow to the face but not to the ribs. Going into the last of the three stalls and locking the door quickly. The place familiar in more ways than one slowly settling your nerves as you berate yourself for needing to leave the awesome show in the first place. Venue too packed with sweating and pushing bodies, looking up to Shinobu who winked at you as she took a sip of her water reminding you too much of another important lead singer in your life while the hot drummer got to expend some of his extra energy on the drums between songs. Now your only company was the drowned out sound of songs you like and a drunk girl losing everything she's had in the past hour.
His message was a an hours old tweet but your fingers hover over his message box. Typing and retyping messages before deleting them all together.
Promise you won't start a fight…|
I think I fucked up…|
Before finally exiting the message box all together, wiping at your eyes and hoping it didn't smudge your mascara or eyeliner. Snapping a quick selfie and sure to get a certain band sticker in the shot with a special set of initials written in sharpie.
Come find me is the caption before you're pushing open the door to the outside venue to return to your spot under the stars.
When you get no response the weight of what is happening between the two of you hits ten fold, forcing you to turn off your phone for now. Just in case you needed to disappear after the show. Mind agonizing over the fact that maybe his words were a lie, he wouldn't wait forever, wouldn't be the martyr of your hellish love.
And how selfish of you to expect that of him. Of a man who'd lost everything over and over again, who still fought for loved ones, who still even loved in the first place when you always chose to cast it aside.
Even the strongest break don't they?
Would be you to break the unbreakable man wouldn't it?
Such a selfish fucking bitch.
Pressing your heel of your palm into your orbital bone roughly to wipe away the tears as a cover song is announced. The crowd going wild for the punk version of a sad solemn pop song, requested by the fans on Twitter for months before this show after the Pillars posted Mitsuri singing the song with Shinobu in a cute TikTok.
It's all quickly sobering, the set coming to a close soon almost symbolic in a sense. Things couldn't last forever, you knew that, always had. Still the parallel stings, the idea of going backstage to see the drummer you're fucking churns yout stomach. Makes the soles of your feet burn as you push through the crowd again. Getting to the fringes before a strong hand grabs onto your forearm yanking you back. Pressing your back into a warm chest, arm snaked around your ribs and the other outstretched to ensure you see inked digits and the thick bands on his forearm. Voice velvet in your ear even as he speaks over the crowd and music.
"Who made ya cry princess?" He doesn't even sound out of breath, smells like the fall air and a half burned cigarette, "Do I need to climb the stage? Cause a scene?"
A watery laugh at his implication that he'd beat the shit out of the drummer you were half dating if he made you cry. As if you didn't hold both men's hearts in your selfish claws, despite trying to give one of them back.
The other, no matter how badly you wanted to rid yourself of it, always found it's way back.
Unscathed despite your cruelty.
"And if I said it was you." He barely hears you from how softly you spoke, chin on your shoulder as he listened.
"Then I'll handle it. Was it me, princess?" He can't help himself, squeezing you tighter to him, pressing his lips lovingly to your throat. You shake your head no but he knows you're lying, "M sorry I came as fast as I could."
He just holds you and you make no motion to move. He wipes away your tears with his free hand, the other almost crushing you to him but if you wanted him to, he'd disappear again. 'fuck off' as you normally instructed. The silence between the two of you was loud in spite of the roaring crowd and music happening around the two of you. Backs to the stage as Akaza sighs heavily. Taking his midnight inked fingers to cradle your jaw, tipping your face up to the sky knowing you'll spot her without much guidance. Eyes glued to the glowing celestial body as he presses his lips to your ear.
"Wanna chase the moon, Princess?"
There's that damning silence again, stretching between you two but still your strong man doesn't move an inch, if anything he sways to the music. Bites his tongue til it bleeds as he proves to you further how much he fucking loved you.
How devoted he was.
"I can stay with ya, til the end of the show. Before he steps off the stage I'll leave." Your nails bite into his arm and this time he thinks he's fucked up again, feeling like he doesn't even know how to help you anymore. He was losing his touch and all it did was feed the hungry demon in him.
"No. No." Craning your neck and looking him in his eyes for the first time in two years even between all the passing moments. When you told him you never wanted to see him again, he made sure to keep that promise, mostly. Only ever stepping behind you, giving you the freedom to turn around if you wanted and only showing his arms to prove it was him.
As if you wouldn't have known just by the way his breath caught in his throat, how he sighed so contently when he was near you.
So when your eyes look into his icy gaze, a burning fire chars his heart, inflames his ribs. How could he ever live another day with our seeing your face, without looking you in your gorgeous eyes that put the stars and moon you loved so much to fucking shame.
God you were so fucking beautiful, did you know that? He wished you didn't cry, wishes even more he wasn't the cause of it.
"No, I wanna chase the moon, Hakuji." The sound of his name, his real name, coming from your pouty lips reverberates through his entire being. Bringing him both back to life and killing him all over again.
Because when you said his name like that how was he ever supposed to put Akaza to rest.
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An Unhealthy Living Situation
TW: Abuse [Mental/Emotional], ableism
Cassia moved back from her husktop, gently bouncing her legs in unison as she did. Tonight's been... Different, to say the least. A good kind of different for the most part. Rare is it that she actually GETS to talk to people, to feel some sense of connection with the outside world. For so long Cassia had locked herself up in her tower-like hive, keeping away from strangers and the unknown. For a while it WAS to benefit her and her hearing problems. The world was too loud, too scary and intense for her. But now things have... Unfortunately changed for the worst.
HE showed up. And HE made everything a living nightmare.
When he first showed up, he was so sweet and kind. He guided Cassia through some of the scarier aspects of life. Helped her learn and grow and shape some parts of her own being. He was the one who got her her hearing aids. She was overjoyed! She always struggled going out and getting things herself, so this blessing of a gift made her heart soar! Finally! It would stop hurting so much.
But his kindness melted away slowly. He'd get more aggressive, he'd steal her palmhusk and husktop, checking her messages and berating her for talking to people who WEREN'T him. He'd block people, send them death threats from her account. He was isolating her, and she knew it. She couldn't fight back, she was scared. She was terrified of what he could possibly do to her. The few friends that he "approved" of were left untouched, but she couldn't cry out for help. She knew he'd see them and possibly do something to them.
For sweeps Cassia would lock herself up in her respiteblock, crying into her knees with her hearing aids out. She didn't like hearing him yell, she didn't like how loud and aggressive he could be. His sweet tone didn't match the look of malice in his eyes. He was holding her captive, and she knew it, but she couldn't get away from him. No matter how hard she tried. He'd always force her back, telling her that she was "safe with him", that no one else would "protect her like he did" and that if she listened to him, he'd let her basically do whatever she wanted.
So she complied. She listened to his words; she didn't fight back. She learned not to flinch or make a noise whenever he'd get loud with her. His previous supportive nature towards her disability soon turned to disgust as he'd openly refuse to believe her condition was "that serious", openly causing her of just being "too sensitive". She wasn't being sensitive, and she knew it... But his words eventually got to her.
Eventually she started to believe herself that she WAS being too sensitive, that her condition wasn't as bad as she first thought. Him taking her hearing aids as "punishment for her misbehaving" stopped bothering her as much.
She knows he's manipulating her, abusing her and isolating her from anyone who could possibly help her. It was no use; Cassia wasn't strong enough to fight back. All she could do was pray that her savior would come to her rescue.
#homestuck#hiveswap#fantroll#fantroll writing#mental abuse#emotional abuse#ableism#cassia eaimia#windy writes#ask to tag#<- in case i possibly miss something that should've been tagged
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Envious
Title: Envious
Pairing: Laurel Lance x Reader
Prompt: 9. "I don't want to see anyone else kissing you but me. Do you understand me?"
Minors DNI, 18+
Warnings: smut, top reader, bottom Laurel, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex
R
WC: 1246
People did a lot of things to uphold expectations, and while Y/n wished that she was beyond it, she knew that she wasn't. Just like she knew that Laurel wasn't either. Oliver Queen's return meant that people were waiting with baited breath to see if he would go back to Laurel. It didn't matter that Laurel had moved on, everybody expected her to go back and be the doting girlfriend that she was. It didn't mean anything to anybody else that Y/n had to sit there and watch as people forced Laurel and Oliver back together. What should have been lunch dates that should have been between Laurel and Y/n were now consisting of Laurel and Oliver being seen at the nicest restaurants in town, places that Y/n couldn't afford to get Laurel into.
The line had to be drawn in the sand sometime, and it took much longer than Laurel had expected it to. Y/n had never been a fan of Oliver or Tommy or anybody from that circle, not really. Y/n had been Laurel's friend in college because their dad had worked together. Y/n's father had just pissed off the wrong guy and been buried with the worst shifts and cases until he finally just gave up and called it quits. Y/n had worked hard for everything in her life, all while watching guys like Oliver and Tommy being handed whatever they wanted, including Laurel it seemed.
Y/n's fist had flown out of nowhere and hit Oliver square in the jaw. Oliver was visibly rocked, even if he had tried to pretend that he wasn't. Laurel, Tommy, and Thea all turned towards Y/n in shock. The woman was angrier than anybody had ever seen her. Thea had moved to talk to Y/n, but Laurel stopped her and went after Y/n herself. Y/n had run off, but hadn't gotten very far. Laurel found her leaning against a wall outside of an alley cradling her hand.
"Don't say it," Y/n warned as she caught Laurel's eye. The berating comments about Y/n's stupidity were on the tip of Laurel's tongue, and Y/n couldn't bear to be called an idiot in that moment. She was hurting in so many ways and being insulted would just add salt to the wounds. "What the fuck is his face made out of? I've punched my fair share of assholes before, but that was like punching a goddamn metal wall."
"Maybe it's a warning that you shouldn't go around punching people," Laurel told Y/n as she cradled Y/n's face. Laurel didn't think that Oliver would have hit Y/n back, but that had been the only fearful thought running through Laurel's mind after Y/n threw the punch. Tommy would have at least shoved Y/n away in the shock of it all. Old Oliver would have hit Y/n back, but this Oliver was different. He was more dangerous somehow, but Laurel wasn't quite sure how or why.
"Yeah, well, maybe Oliver Queen should keep his lips to himself." Y/n was seething once again. Every single time she closed her eyes, she saw Laurel and Oliver kissing each other at the bar. Tommy had been goading them on, and if Laurel hadn't put herself in front of Y/n, he probably would have been punched as well. Y/n was not above starting a bar fight, even if it wasn't one that she had a chance of winning.
"Calm down," Laurel said. It was somewhat dismissive, which only made things worse. "I didn't exactly want to kiss him."
"I don't want to see anyone else kissing you but me. Do you understand me?" Y/n's tone was still very aggressive, but Laurel could see the hurt behind her eyes. Y/n was scared of losing Laurel to someone who had already mistreated her before. Laurel loved Oliver and Tommy, but she wasn't at a point in her life where she was willing to let them back in yet.
Laurel ran her fingers through Y/n's hair as she leaned in and whispered, "Perfectly." Y/n licked her lips in anticipation of Laurel kissing her. Laurel's lips pressed gently against Y/n's as if she was trying to calm Y/n down with the kiss, but Y/n pressed back firmer. Laurel let out a small gasp as Y/n's thigh slipped in between hers. Laurel let her head fall to the side as Y/n mouthed kisses along the side of her neck. Laurel's grip tightened on the back of Y/n's shirt as Y/n's mouth continued to travel lower and lower until Y/n had to drop down to her knees.
"Is this okay?" Y/n asked as she looked up at Laurel through her eyelashes. Laurel's throat went dry the moment she made eye contact with Y/n, but she was still able to nod. "I want to hear that you want me too."
"Please," Laurel pleaded. She moved Y/n's hands onto the waistband of her pants. Y/n began to pull the pants down as Laurel threaded her fingers in Y/n's hair. Laurel forced herself to look away from Y/n as Y/n's hand slipped into her underwear. All of it was too much for Laurel's brain to comprehend without a drink first, but they were outside of the bar and Y/n had come storming in before Laurel had a chance to order anything for herself. If Laurel looked down at Y/n and had to meet her eyes, everything around her would crumble.
Y/n both was and wasn't supposed to be the person kneeling in between Laurel's legs like this. Y/n was good and safe, and didn't do things like this. Y/n didn't get jealous or angry, she didn't need to be flashy to win over Laurel. She had things that Oliver and Tommy didn't have, and Laurel was relishing in the feeling of Y/n's soft touch in between her legs as she tried distracting herself. Laurel tried to think about the softness of Y/n's bed beneath her back, but the cold and hard brick pressing against her back kept pulling her out of it. Laurel finally swallowed and bit the bullet. She looked down at Y/n, who seemed just as into her element as she would have been anywhere else. The woman on her knees didn't seem to be having the same little mental identity crisis as Laurel. Y/n was so sure of herself, and that was when Laurel realized that it wasn't the place or setting that made her time with Y/n enjoyable, it was Y/n.
"Y/n, please," Laurel started to whine and beg. She didn't care whether or not some drunk asshole wandering the alleys heard her. Laurel didn't care about anything other than feeling as much of Y/n as she could. She already had Y/n's fingers leading her towards the edge, but Laurel still felt like she needed something more. The feeling of Y/n's lips wrapping around her clit made Laurel's knees buckle. Laurel pressed her back into the wall as her heels dug into the ground in a vain attempt to steady herself. Y/n had a good hold on Laurel though, one that kept her steady long after Laurel's body gave out on her.
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