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#but i wanted them to have that goddamned heart to heart so By God i went and did it anyways
iamasaddie · 2 days
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tired
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist
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Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?” 
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
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You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
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etherealily · 3 days
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🄱🄻🄴🅂🅂🄴🄳​ // ​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.
Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. 🍃.
Part 1 : Whiplash
Part 2 : 9 Lives
You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.
Tiny glimpse into his mind because why not?
Desc. : "His hand, so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face."
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It's not like Nate even knew you.
You just so happened to be the secret to his success, and maybe, perhaps his new obsession.
No biggie.
I mean, whole of the first week of spring break, he didn't text you, you didn't text him, and it was all great and normal.
Pissed him off to no end, because how the hell did you recover so quickly from having a fucking gun in your throat? But, hey, whatever. Maybe you were just that goddamn weird.
The second - and last - week of spring break was when shit got intense.
Because he thought about you.
He realized he hadn't even fucking seen you around town the entirety of it, and that might have freaked him out, just a little.
He worried, you see? Yes, only about his games, and his college apps, but now, all of them had been tied to you, with a pretty little bow around them.
So obviously, now he worried about you.
So, obviously, he needed to find out just where the hell your lucky ass had gone.
He narrowed it down to two options. Both perfectly reasonable, of course.
One, you just had tons of work and stayed indoors.
Two, you had been kidnapped and murdered by the opposing teams because they'd found out about your miracle-working.
See? Perfectly reasonable.
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It was a happy surprise to learn that you were basically closer to his house than you'd ever been before, after you'd taken up a job at the local supermarket.
Well, happy for him.
For you, it was more of a you-were-seriously-contemplating-suicide surprise.
"You listen to Elvis Presley?", he asked, dropping his purchase down on the counter. Your eyes never moved to it, and stayed on his.
That was one thing he noticed about you.
You were always observing, as if he were a rabid animal that would strike at any moment. As if he would reveal his sinister intentions to you within enough time for you to react.
"What?"
He nodded at the speakers on the wall around the establishment. "Those connected to your Spotify?"
You didn't want to answer unless you knew whether he was about to compliment or mock you.
"Sir, I think you should leave."
God fucking damn it. Why had he never thought about the fact that you wouldn't - (and couldn't)- call him a motherfucker at your workplace? His joy knew no bounds.
"That's so hot. Say it again."
You'd 100% expected that. It was clear on your face.
"There's other people behind you with more items to check out."
He swiveled his head around for a moment.
Old lady. Sometimes he wished he wasn't raised right.
He sighed, nodding. "I'm next up, though.", he warned sternly, pointing at you as he gestured for her to pass him by.
The old lady patted him on the shoulder and smiled, moving ahead with her purchase of an unholy amount of bread and cheese.
And what's worse?
She had coupons.
Way too many for Nate to stand smiling like a good boy behind her as she dug into her purse and fished out probably decades worth of them.
"Yes, dear, so just run all these."
"Uh, ma'am, I wish I could, but most of these are expired."
Thank god.
"Oh, well, you said most. Let's just sort through them and find the ones that aren't expired."
Would it be homicide to kill her? She didn't really have too long to live, anyway. He couldn't say he hadn't thought about it.
"Uh, okay, yeah, sure."
"This'll just take a minute, sweetie.", she whispered to Nate, pinching his cheek as if that would make time go by faster.
"How about I pay for you, ma'am? If that's alright?"
If he'd been allowed access to your mind, you'd never live it down, because you almost thanked him right then and there.
"Oh, there's no need for that, dear, I can-"
"No, please, I insist. It would be my pleasure."
"What a sweet boy."
Both her and Nate decided to ignore the derisive snort that came out of you as you swiped his card.
"Here you go, ma'am.", you smiled, placing the copious amounts of cheese into the bag, then stuffing the bread in, too. "Anything else?"
"Oh, no, that's it for me. God bless you, dear. Both of you."
Watching her walk out, he began to genuinely wonder if this absurd purchase was all part of some scheme some criminal had put up to steal without your knowledge.
"You hear that? We're blessed, you and me."
"Do you actually have anything to buy?"
"Of course I do. I'm not a creepy stalker.", he hissed, slamming his palm down in front of you. Slowly, he lifted it to reveal a stack of eleven condoms.
Oh, yeah, you were blessed with this fuckass' presence.
You sucked your teeth as your gaze traipsed from the condoms up to his eyes. One of them winked.
"Is that all?"
"Oh, come on, you're not even curious why I have them?"
"Probably for the dozens of bitches you're getting.", you scoffed, ringing it up. "$15.99."
"For eleven individual condoms?!"
You shrugged. "Inflation."
"Oh, they better inflate for the amount of money I'm spending."
He rolled his eyes, mumbling to himself as he pulled out the money from his wallet, instead of his card. "Fucking old lady with her bread and cheese."
"You maxed your card?"
"Yeah. Why do people buy so much shit they're barely ever going to use?"
"Like you with your condoms?"
Ah. Nate could've absolutely lost his shit laughing right there- you did care.
"I'm going to use it all. Trust me."
How many times was he going to use the phrase 'trust me' on you until he realized the meaning had eroded away into nothingness between you two? Probably a dozen more.
"Sure. Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."
He pouted, stuffing the packets into his pocket as he raised a brow. "You don't sound like you mean it."
"Nate-"
"And why are you even working here, anyway? Oh, shit, is it 'cause I cost you your internship with your perv boss?"
If he felt bad, the grin on his face wasn't really screaming guilt.
"No, fuckass, this is my friend's store, he just wanted someone to help him out for a couple hours."
"Whoa, wait, what happened to Sir? I liked that better."
That was a lie. He fucking loved it.
"Please, Nate. Stop."
"One condition."
There it was. It no longer seemed like he saw you as anything more than a boredom buster. Sudoku, or a crossword, basically. That was you to him.
"Answer one question, truthfully, and I'll leave this... otherwise empty store right after."
"I'm listening."
God, that's all he fucking wanted to hear, and it was oddly exciting. He could literally say anything, and you wouldn't block him out.
"What would you do if I told you that I have a body in my car right now?"
"What?"
"A body. A dead body. It's in my trunk. Right now. What would you say? What's your next move?"
It's like he expected you not to notice the fact that he was tracing shapes on your arm as he spoke.
"Cops."
At this point, even if he wasn't bluffing, you'd still have reacted so nonchalantly. Because it was all in all tiring to continue to play whatever twisted game he was playing.
"They're not an option. It's either silence or help me. Would you help me hide it?"
"Nate, did you kill someone?"
"No."
"Then why even ask?!"
"It's a hypothetical."
"No, probably not."
He tsked, looking away for a moment. "Wrong answer."
"Well, it's my answer."
He brought his fingers up to your face, and your slight flinch meant absolutely nothing to him. Imaginary hearts now plagued your skin. "Change it."
"My answer? No."
"Please."
"Nate, did you kill someone?", you asked once more, praying for an actual answer this time, be it in the negative or the positive.
He smirked.
"Thanks for the condoms.", he whispered, grinning as he gave your cheek a light pat - that was dangerously bordering on a slap.
Would your trunk be big enough to fit his body? You thought about it the rest of the day.
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His fingers rapped on his dashboard as he watched his phone, set down on speaker on the dashboard, too. Pick up, pick up, pick up.
"Hello?"
Yes. He'd never been this happy to hear someone's voice, and it kinda freaked him out. Okay, whatever. Not important.
"Y/N."
"Who is this?"
"The guy you broke all the rules with before spring break? Made out with on the bleachers?"
"You need to be more specific."
"You better be kidding."
"Of course I am." He had never felt more relieved to hear your stupid ass laugh. "What do you want? I'm not helping you hide a body."
He debated just asking you where you'd been all this time, why you hadn't shown up to a single party or hangout, but he decided he'd just outright ask the real question he needed answered.
"Which one's your window?"
A pause. "What?"
"The one with red or yellow curtains?"
"Nate."
"Red or yellow, babe?"
"Red." Good. You'd gotten so used to him that you didn't waste time pointing out the obvious by asking 'are you outside my house?!'.
"You sure it's not yellow?"
"That's my parents' room."
"Yellow looks more tempting.", he teased, as he shut the car door.
"I'm not messing around."
"Neither am I. Yellow it is."
"Nate!"
This was far too precious to him. You were actually worried. How cute.
The fact that he had to climb up wasn't really making him jump in joy, but he figured you'd enjoy that little touch of vintage chivalry.
Like fucking Rapunzel.
He tapped on your window once.
No answer. Don't fucking play around right now.
He knocked once more.
He was met with your extremely delightful glare as you slid your window up, watching him closely.
"Hey."
"Dude, you-"
"Shh, shh, shh. Let me in.", he mumbled, crouching to cram himself through, his hand still resting on the top of the pane.
"You're insane."
Immediately grabbing your face after he steadied himself, he hissed through gritted teeth, "Where the hell have you been?"
"What?"
"I didn't see you at all before today!"
"Yeah, we got a lot of work to do over spring break."
"This is why you don't take psychology, because you get stupid amounts of homework even during the holidays.", he muttered, as if he'd warned you about this eons ago.
"What do you want?"
"Party. You. Me. Now. Get dressed."
He almost punched you when you started laughing.
"You actually do have a sense of humour, Nate, good for you."
"I'm not kidding. Come on."
"No way in hell."
"You know what? No need to get dressed. You look great. Just come on. Live a little."
"You've already taken me to 'live a little' before, and I ended up shitfaced with a gun in my throat at school at 12:30 am."
Good. So you hadn't gotten over that. He didn't care if he was being sadistic - he was glad.
He sighed, flopping down onto your bed and ignoring the second glare to come from you that night. "This is so typically a teenage girl's bedroom."
He had no clue what he was saying, at this point. But he knew he was itching for a reaction, a reason for you to hit him again, so he could grab you and shut you up. He craved the conflict.
"Surprising, considering that's what I am."
"I mean, the band posters? Really?", he huffed, pointing around at your room as if he was giving you a tour of it.
"Have you even listened to Queen? Presley? Any of the oldies?"
The match was found. Time to light it.
"So the shitty music in the store was connected to your playlist.", he chuckled, shaking his head. "No wonder that old lady was so nice to you. She thought you were one of her Bingo buddies."
It was just a question of how long you could stand him sitting on your bed, disrespecting your music taste.
"If you're only here to invite me to a party, I'm sorry, I'm not coming."
"How would your family like me hanging out here?", he mused, tilting his head. You know, the one you'd probably love to bash into the pavement given a chance? That head.
You were so fucking hot when you were pissed, it was unbelievable to him. He could sense it, the anger.
The smell of your rage made him want to riot.
"You can't keep blackmailing me into doing what you want."
"Alright, fine."
Your uncomfortable frown made him snicker. "What's that look?"
"This is usually the part where you self-harm and tell me I'm being a bitch for not bending to your will."
"Tonight's different."
"Why?"
Because I'm going to unwrap every fucking secret of yours.
He shrugged, the corners of his lips curling downwards. "I don't want to."
"So, you'll leave?"
"I didn't say that.", he trailed off, watching you sit down on the chair across from your bed. "Let's just chill."
"Nate, when have you and I ever chilled?"
He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes at you, before giving you a sly smirk. His fingers emerged from his pocket as he pulled out a packet of pre-rolleds. "Right now."
"You're kidding."
"C'mon. Don't be a pussy."
"They'll smell it."
He lolled his head over to the door. "No, they won't. You're two floors up." He shifted to one side, patting the space next to him. "Come on, Y/N, don't end your badass streak so quickly."
His eyes followed you as you sat down gingerly, rubbing your forehead like he was causing you a genuine migraine. That's funny, she hasn't even seen me high, yet, (and she won't).
"Why do I let you do this?"
"Million dollar question if I ever heard one.", he scoffed, fumbling around his person for a lighter. He found it, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, causing his next catastrophic words to come out a mumble. "But I'm glad you do."
He continued to watch your eyes change from frustration to mild fascination, to hesitation all in one second, as he puffed out through his teeth. "Fuck.", he groaned, handing it to you.
"I don't know about this."
"You think they'd like me?", he mused, looking at the door, and then back at you. "I'm known to make a good impression with parents."
"The no-blackmail thing didn't last long.", you huffed, taking it from him. Nate almost made out with you right then and there, the way your lips wrapped around it as if they were made only for him.
"Didn't want to break tradition.", he snorted as you coughed and sputtered, handing it back to him quickly.
"Gross."
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The last thing he'd expected from that evening was actually staying. He'd thought he'd get you stoned, you'd pass out, and he'd leave.
But here you were.
Next to him.
Freaking him the hell out.
He looked down at his watch. 2 AM. Fuck.
"I gotta go."
"You've been saying that for the past three hours."
Shut up. "Eh, well, it's not like my parents are worried."
"Why not?"
"They know I can handle myself."
"Right, because I'm such a threat."
"God, no. They'd love you." He shook his head subtly, grinning as you nudged his face playfully with your foot from across the bed. "You should come over, sometime."
"I'm not coming over, Nate."
The weed made sure you didn't push him away when he gently grabbed your leg. "Why not?"
"Because we're not friends. There's no reason for me to meet your parents."
"I just think it's right that you get to judge my room, too.", he muttered, lips on your ankle like it was his life support. "You know, justice or whatever."
"It's probably all monocoloured, plain, boring crap."
"Only one way to find out.", he teased.
He despised the silence that followed. High-you wasn't exactly chatty, it seemed.
"Tell me something about you."
"Like what?"
He shrugged. "Anything."
"This is my first time smoking weed."
"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart."
"You didn't ask for a secret."
"Now I am. Tell me a secret."
"I hate football."
You were more resilient than he thought, seeing as you'd smoked three cigarettes already, and the most you'd given him was your sports preferences.
But he'd take what he got.
"Because of me?"
"No, just generally."
"But you came to games.", he countered.
"Because of Maddy."
"You guys are close?"
You nodded, stirring slightly as you looked out your window. "Mhm."
"So she told you." Shit.
You tilted your head, sitting up as he gripped your calf, moving closer and placing kisses on your knee, too. "About?"
Well, if you didn't already know, no need to tell you.
"To come to the games."
"Oh. Yeah."
Nice save, Jacobs.
"I guess now I owe you a secret, huh?"
"I guess you do."
"You're not gonna like it.", he murmured, lazily tracing even more shapes on your knee, while his other hand had trailed up to your arm. "But I love your lips."
He smiled when the corners of your eyes crinkled up and you burst into a fit of giggles. "What?"
"It's true. They're perfect."
"God, I love weed."
You would, seeing as you smoked more of it than he did. Enough to kind of make him feel slightly guilty.
"It's not just the weed saying this.", he continued, shaking his head. "I'd fight wars for those lips. For you."
He shouldn't have liked the fading of your laugh so much, the slight trepidation brewing on your face, either, but for some reason, he did. "Nate, I'm not... I don't wanna-"
"Be fought for? Why not?"
He took the silence as a cue to brush his finger against your cupid's bow. "You don't think you deserve it?"
He watched your lips move under his finger as you shook your head, side to side. "Well, I do. And, guess what?"
"What?"
"I got another question for you."
Your frown was your response.
"Why didn't you push me away when I kissed you that night on the bleachers?" He knew the answer. Of course he did.
"I was drunk."
"Yeah, see, you weren't that drunk.", he taunted. But no, you were. He'd given you basically one and a half bottles. Just like tonight, taking barely ten puffs while you took thrice as much. You just hadn't noticed.
"I don't know, then."
"I just think that if you didn't push me away, it can't have been the terrible experience you made it out to be, in the car."
"What do you want to hear, Nate?"
"That you want to do it again. 'Cause you do. Don't you?"
"I don't."
"Yes, you do. If you could see your own eyes right now, you'd agree."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
He waited for a reaction, a scoff, an eye roll, anything, but you just looked back at him, and then down at the hand he was holding. Oh, it was the weed.
So he took matters into his own hands. No. He took you into his own hands, tracing the gap between your lips with his tongue before he pushed it in.
Your lips were war-worthy, just like before. But this time, something was different. This time, you kissed back.
There we go.
His hands ran over your back as though he were splaying a huge deck of cards across a table, and he came to the grave realization that maybe, just maybe, he was no longer doing this just for a reaction.
"Come here.", he murmured, making up for his lack of oxygen by trying to steal yours as he pulled you onto him. How Shane Crestin hadn't killed himself over the fact that he'd fumbled this bag, he'd never know. Loser.
His hands slipped under your shirt. Wrong move, seeing as you pulled away. "No."
Wasn't weed supposed to last longer?
"What?"
"I'm not... no."
"You seemed into it, like a moment ago. Face it : you want this. No amount of bullshit self-respect or whatever you wanna call it, is going to change that.", he responded, coolly, as he took a drag from the blunt, his lips immediately feeling the lack of yours.
"You're just trying to get back at Maddy."
God, he wished that were true. Would make much more sense.
He sighed, his forehead on yours. "I'm not, but you're not going to believe me.", he mumbled, watching you get off him and move back to the other side of the bed.
Oceans away. Too fucking far.
"I'm sorry." There was something he hadn't said in a while. "For, like, everything."
"Why am I so fucking important to you? If I just showed up to every game for you, would you leave me the fuck alone? No, you wouldn't, because you sought me out during spring break! Am I just an easy target?"
No. "I don't... I don't fucking know, okay? You just are."
"Is it 'cause you hate me?", you questioned, so quietly that he had to debate whether to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness or actually kill himself in guilt for eliciting it.
"What?"
"Do you hate me?"
"For what?" He had no fucking clue what this could be about. Every single thing he'd done so far indicated the opposite. But he didn't want to let himself go there.
"Being your good luck charm."
Oh. He had to think about that one. "No. It would be weird if it was someone else."
"I just mean... it must be frustrating, when you need someone, and they might not always be there."
"But you will, right? Be there?"
"You scare me, Nate."
He scoffed, slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're unbelievable. Why? Gimme one reason - a real one - why you're scared of me."
"You're violent."
Okay, he was hoping you'd give an invalid one.
"I like beating people up.", he shrugged. "But never for no reason."
"Not exactly a secret, sweetheart. And anyway, it's not only the beating up that you like."
"Hm?"
"You like getting beat up, too."
Remind him never to give you weed again.
"Why would I-"
"On some level, you feel like you deserve it.", you replied, shrugging as you took a long puff of the miracle weed that apparently made you unreasonably perceptive.
Okay, confirmed, not even the word weed would be mentioned around you anymore.
"You think I deserve it?"
"Mostly, yeah. But not... all the time."
"How do you know so much?", he asked, watching your fingers get lost in your hair. He couldn't afford eye contact.
"Psychology."
"See? You shouldn't have taken it. It's creepy."
You sighed, smiling as you looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry."
He did not expect you to back down, that was for sure.
"It's fine. Never giving you weed again, though."
═════════════════════ ⋆ 🚬 ⋆ ══════════════════
It actually took until the very last day of spring break for him to catch up with you again. Not like he was pissed that you pushed him away, or anything. Or that he was confused about the entire interaction in the bedroom of someone who, until three weeks ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead talking to. He was just busy. Sure. Let's go with that.
"Hey."
"Not now, Nate."
"What is your problem?" Wait, no. That kinda talk was why you were pissed at him. "Look, we should start over."
God, he sounded like a cunt. This was definitely something that pathetic Shane Crestin would say. Ew.
"Okay. Can you start by going over there?", you asked, restocking the shelves with whatever bullshit condiment you had to.
"I'm an ass. I'm a jerk, I'm- I'm a dick."
You were silent for a moment, before you added: "A small one, too."
He sighed, beaming with relief. "A small one, too.", he agreed, nodding. "I'm just here to ask you over to dinner. My house. I'll even cook."
Dude, if you didn't agree, he'd actually fucking kill you.
"No way you cook."
"Only one way to find out."
He saw the falling apart. The gradual breaking down. The glacier was melting. "I'll listen to Queen or whatever, with you."
The quiet was taunting him, but you came to his rescue. "No steak."
"No steak."
Yes. Fucking yes.
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sunnynwanda · 2 days
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Hi! Ive been following you for a long while and I love your writing so much!
If you feel like it, could you write a hero x villain, one of which is the type to get touchy and playful when drunk and accidentally confesses to the other like that? With the other being surprised
Ofc you can take it in whatever way you want! :D
Do Your Worst
Warnings: intoxication, slightly suggestive (i guess?), bad flirting xD
Villain was stoic. Cold as ice, unmoving as a mountain. They never flinched, never winced, never recoiled. No matter how strong the blow was, no matter how bad it hurt. No muscle dared to twitch on their carved face, not one sound escaped their pale lips.
They were made of stone - Hero was sure of it. 
Here remembered their first battle with Villain, the power of their blows unmatched, rumbling in the emptiness of the building, concrete crushing under their fists as they chased Villain relentlessly. In retrospect, Hero knows they must have broken at least five ribs, if not more. Yet, the only reaction they got from Villain was a quirked eyebrow - a mocking challenge. A dare to keep going, to give more. Bring it on.
Do your worst. 
Hero hated those words despite having heard them a thousand times before. A spark ignited deep within, turning into lightning, rushing through their veins like a wave. Passion and power. Hero had no idea where to draw the line. Villain was insatiable in their hunger, unstoppable in their pursuit of a thrill. Yet there was no satiating Hero's thirst either - they wanted more. More fire, more freedom. More of Villain.
But Villain was the epitome of indomitable. Impassive. Equable.
All the more surprising was the state they found Villain in today. No, surprising was not the word for what they were feeling. They were struck dumb, astonished, speechless. Anything but surprised as they take in the look of Villain swaying on their feet and coming to a halt in front of them with the sweetest pout on their soft lips. 
"Baby-y," they exclaim, excitement colouring their voice in a way Hero has never heard before. "What are you doing here?" 
Hero staggers back, their eyes blown wide. Villain attempts a smile, their lips curling up to reveal the dimples on their cheeks. Hero feels their heart skip a beat at the sight.  
"Villain, are you alright?" They start cautiously, part of them suspecting that their nemesis has been drugged. 
Villain nods, failing to form a stern expression and setting on an adorable frown. "Mhm. Missed you. So much." Their words come out slurred but manage to send Hero's eyebrows up into their goddamn hairline. 
"You... what?" Hero mumbles out, breath hitching in their throat as they process the words. They are quick to react when Villain stumbles forward, gripping Hero's outstretched arms for stability. 
Except, they don't stop at that. Once Hero steadies them and lets go of their hands, Villain doesn't step back. Instead, they wrap their arms around Hero's waist and rest their chin on Hero's chest as they tilt their head up. 
"Hi, baby," they muse, their pupils dilated from intoxication. Hero's throat goes dry at the sight, their hands twitching to touch Villain's flushed cheekbones, brush their fingers over the sensitive skin, ignite them the same way Villain's words have them on fire. 
"Hi," Hero breathes out, their mind spinning. "You're drunk." They state the obvious, earning a deep rumble of a chuckle from Villain. 
"Mhm," Villain hums, leaning closer, their chest flush against Hero's. "And you're pretty." 
"I- w-what?" Hero stutters out, their brain short-circuiting when Villain's hand slides up their chest to their neck, their fingers brushing the side of Hero's neck. "What are you doing?"
"Hm?" Villain looks up at them, blinking innocently and sending a shiver down Hero's spine. Holy mother of god. 
Hero wants to remove Villain's hands from their body, they really do. But, the moment they actually try, Villain gives them the most adorably heart-shattering pout they have ever seen, and who the hell is Hero to refuse them? 
They sigh heavily, cupping Villain's jaw, their thumb rubbing soft circles into their cheek. "Shh, let me get you home, okay?" They ask, gazing intently into Villain's heavy-lidded eyes. Villain nods, leaning into their touch with unexpected desperation, their lips parted in strained pants.
Hero draws them closer, holding them upright, but almost drops them when their apathetic nemesis yelps. Hero stares at their enemy cradled in their arms when Villain does the unthinkable. They giggle. The sound rings through the air, and Hero all but dies on the spot, their mouth hanging agape for a moment too long, drawing another soft laugh out of Villain, who must have decided to break Hero's mind because they wrap their arm around Hero's shoulders, nuzzling into their neck. 
"I've wanted to do this for so long," they mutter against Hero's skin, sending a flood of lava down their throat. Hero lets out a guttural groan, barely restraining themself from lifting Villain's head from their shoulder and devouring them on the spot. 
"Villain, please," Hero whispers, unsure of what they are pleading for - for Villain to stop or to keep going. Keep ruining me.
Villain shakes their head, their lips brushing against the side of Hero's neck when they speak again. "I won't have the guts to say this when I'm sober," they confess, and Hero freezes, too stunned to move, speak or even breathe.
They can't remember what they need the air for when Villain's cold fingers trace the outline of their lips. They feel intoxicated, Villain's drunken state influencing them in the strangest way possible, making them feel lightheaded like no alcohol ever could. 
"Villain," Hero warns through gritted teeth, struggling desperately to maintain control and composure when Villain stands on their tiptoes, leaning on Hero's chest for stability. "One more word from you, and I won't be responsible for my actions."
They press their forehead to Villain's, their eyes meeting with scorching intensity, Hero's gaze glowing with insanity and desire.
Villain might be made of stone, but Hero isn't. 
Hero is on the verge of falling apart, crumbling under Villain's smouldering hands like they are made of clay. 
"Do your worst," Villain whispers against their lips, and Hero loses it, capturing Villain's mouth, crushing into them with a groan rambling in the back of their throat. 
No, Hero is not made of stone. And neither is Villain.
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A/N: Hi, sweetheart! Oh my, thank you so much :) You have no idea what this means to me and how good it makes me feel to receive requests and notes like this! Love you with all my heart <3 xo Sunny
Masterlist
Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing@lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist@excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers@miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon@burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney@thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode@villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444
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funtheysaid · 2 days
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IWTV 2x02 Initial Thoughts (Stream Of Consciousness)
- ooh the title card changed! I’ve been wanting to see the Eiffel Tower as a “fang” since season two was announced. WE IN PARIS BABY!
- ayooo three-way (interview) incoming
- Daniel’s “Paris sucks” aka “Paris is where my ex-bf is from and he sucks (dick), but not mine anymore, and no, I’m not bitter abt that, his city just fucking stinks (literally)”
- not two minutes in and Devil’s Minion is already flirting bickering
- ALICE MENTION alice!armand truthers are gon love that shit i just know
- “I’ll tell you what a woman is” That’s my sapphic-coded queen!!! 🕯️ pls S2 give me claudeleine 🕯️
- “Gauche” well, yes.
- Loumand: 🥰🥰 Daniel: 🙄 he‘s so second-hand embarrassed for them I can’t
- I mean, it’s crazy. What? We finish each other’s- I WAS WITH HIM FOR LONGER THAN LESTAT WAS WITH HIM WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN DANIEL PUT IT ON RECORD WEVE BEEN FUCKING FOR LIKE DOUBLE THE TIME …that’s what i…was….gonna say?
- Louis would be that faux-intellectual hipster who has his own darkroom full of overexposed and blurry, unfocused photos that are his “art” bc he took them on film (affectionate)
- Not claudia calling him out on it in the next scene “let me think I’m deeper than I am” okay honey you do you
- “She’s miserable but she doesn’t want to fuck with your too delusional left bank dilettante vibes” ahh the narrative foils are foiling, I see
- The show: Alice was pregnant, My dumb ass: OMEGAVERSE DEVILS MINION !?!?
- “joyfully joyless” MOOD.
- Claudia looking at Madeleine like “I don’t know if I want to be her or be with her” Dw babe it’s a rite of passage for all of us you’ll figure it out
- “Your French is ugly” 🥹👉👈 weally?
- “the dress for my body” LOOK I know what she meant, but I can’t help it that my mind is perverted
- LMFAO NOT GLORYHOLE PARK
- okay why Loumand playing with my heart “I will never harm you. And I never have” wtf wtf wtf
-Oh no the ole business card trick! we all know that’s Louis’ kryptonite he loves a man with credentials
- i like girls, but why is santiago kinda…
- Woah the Annika scene was really hard to watch which I think was the point but goddamn idk if I’ll be able to rewatch that part
- Estelle is my self-insert. I’m claiming her.
- “You both fucked Lestat!?!” HOW DID THEY KNOW WE WANTED HIM TO SAY THAT!?
- “He tasted of vermouth and annihilation” We both know you have no earthly idea what that man tastes like, Armand. Be so fucking fr right now.
- Did Armand just casually drop that he had a threesome with a father and son? I’m sorry, sir????
- “Now I know what two blood fat cocks slapping hands feel like” When I tell you my spirit left my body
- oh shit here we go. I’m a caged animal and it’s time for my weekly enrichment. give me my loustat.
- there’s a letter !?!? Wait wait I wasn’t ready for something like this wait stop stop please
- “all my love belongs to you. you are its keeper” just take me out back and shoot me at this point
- “it is a thin veil” fucking fuck why was that so romantic??
- the blood tears welling up in Lestat’s eyes I’m-
- “Rebound of my life” and in that moment, he spoke for the people
- WHAT IS HAPPENING???? Jesus Christ, they were talking about Alice and then it cuts to FUCKING ARMAND!?! This is not a drill. Everyone to your stations, this is not a drill.
- “You sold your Dad’s playboy magazines at recess” Hmmm? You’re telling me a “straight” teenage boy sold porno mags instead of keeping them for himself??? Yeah, I call gay on that one
- “she wanted to say yes” you motherfuckers.
- Oh shit Louis is pissy tonight rawr kitty got claws
- Devils minion girlies are thriving, skin glowing, hair silky, breath minty, pillow cold, stomach full, dreams sweet, and by Jove, we fucking deserve it !!!!
- daniel’s shaky “um- gulp” …….guys this is gonna sound crazy but i think there might actually be a god
- ooh the camera/photography being like a divide or barrier between Louis and his present situation. Like he wants to capture the moments, but only as if an onlooker and not a participant… interesting!
- “Who?” will never not be funny
- “Mon ami” in the same episode as “Mon Cher” FUCK ME GENTLY WITH A CHAINSAW
- “Armand for you” nah nah nah i changed my mind, you can do like Leatherface and shove that chainsaw in rough and hard
- Close up on Louis’ conflicted face, fire blazing behind him…. That’s not foreboding in any way. I’m sure they’ll all live happily ever after from now on :D
What a ride! Until next week! 🧛‍♂️🩸
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bl00dw1tch · 1 year
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God. God. God. Holy fucking shit i love Avatar so fucking much
#horse.txt#im being so real right now it breaks my goddamn heart that so many people hate it on principle and go into it waiting to be disappointed#like. god. seriously? how do so few people seem to see the shit im seeing? how do people not GET its RIGHT THERE???#idk man im like. high and the hd release is out so it feels like Christmas but this shit has been on my mind and its at like a precipice#its one thing when ppl just aren't into it but the absolute LOATHING and DISDAIN people harbour for these movies is just. baffling#i cant understand it#i hate statistics. why did it have to pan out this way#how can anybody hate this production literally decades in the making? the fucking DEFINITION of a Passion Project?#the labour and love and inventive GENIUS that has gone into these films--and#you know what? the writing ISN'T that fucking awful. its not perfect because no movie is ever fucking perfect and sometimes you#have to give a script and characters breathing room. room to make mistakes!!! because this fucking obsession with#'characters dont have to be realistic!' is BULLSHIT. and NO saying that does not conflict with the idea that Characters=/=real ppl in#discourse!the ideas can fucking coexist! having realistic characters is GOOD its fucking GOOD when theyre stupid and do shit you dont like!#because thats what REAL PEOPLE DO thats what makes them fucking COMPELLING thats what youre SUPPOSED to let draw you in!!!!!!#but noooo no no no no keep repeating your smurf pocahontas jokes and roll your eyes at anyone who does like it like theyre stupid#because you can't be assed to give something a chance just because everyone Else is calling it stupid#and you dont want them to roll their eyes at /you/#i know this is dumb to be so heated about but im just. im sad man. im happy im having a great day!! but im sad#about how few people i can share it with yk..???
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adammilligan · 2 years
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adam's just some guy vibe contrasting with everything about the rest of him is probably one of the best things about him. like yes he was told TWICE that allowing michael to possess him would result in a battle of biblical proportions that would torch half the fucking planet and its population and was so determined to see his mother again that he agreed on the spot, displaying a quite frankly INSANE amount of devotion to his mother for a teenager who was raised in a very normal home to have, but also. he love hammed burger :)
#i really do feel like adam's devotion to his mother is quite frankly fucking insane for a teenager to have and nobody talks about it enough#his 'and if i do my job i get to see her again' i am comparing it DIRECTLY to michael and his 'job' of killing lucifer and how it would#theoretically allow him to see god again#adam's apathy to the death of others in the pursuit of his goal vs michael's same apathy. stares really really hard at them#and the way his goal IS tied to a sense of justice just like michael#his 'but it is the devil right so we gotta stop him' vs. michael's 'you're a monster lucifer. and i have to kill you'#like they ARE both doing what they think is right but they're also STILL MAINLY FOCUSED on their goal. to see their parent again.#it's just that it's something you'd expect out of an archangel. it isn't something you'd expect out of a teenage boy from minnesota#maybe he was apathetic because he was already dead. like HE died so what did the rest of them matter. who knows#but adam is just. GRHHHHH i want to shake him upside down and figure out what's going on in that head of his#you would be made aware both by angels and by humans that the fight would result in casualties and you would offer yourself up anyway?#you would hand your own bodily autonomy over on a silver platter and let the world BURN just for her? just for your mother?#DESPITE THE FACT THAT YOU ARE A VERY NORMAL BOY RAISED IN A VERY NORMAL HOME?#was kate milligan really that good of a mother? of that i have no doubt because she and adam were so close#but it's like. what is it on ADAM'S side that would drive him to this level of devotion? of love?#mother is really the name for god in the hearts and lips of little children huh. goddamn#azure rambles#adam milligan
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baladric · 1 year
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one of my friends predicted a long time ago that i would end up married to a rat man, and i’ve been like nah i like pretty and fashionable people but now i definitely have what feels like the most fruitful crush i’ve had in a long time on a quintessential rat man and i’m like. äh, the ordeals of being known.
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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oh man i still love ffxv so much 🫶🏼
#🌙.rambles#[ ffxv. ]#i am thinking again of . noctis#GODDAMN I USED TO BE SO#noctis used to be my fav chara back then. he's still one of my favs rn#i love ffxv music sm man thank you yoko shimomura for composing elegant osts#i love kingdom hearts sm too.... final fantasy n kh my childhood fr#help i like so many games that are connected to sqex in a way 😭#nier published by sqex . n huh#even one of my fav animanga ( fullmetal alchemist ) is connected to sqex in a way#funny how all these interests were influenced by my father's side of the family. my dad n an aunt in particular#i actually nearly finished the manga for fma ! but not the last few volumes bcs my aunt has them w her in japan i think. 🥹#wait i'm listening to ffx rn n i am emotional. my first exposure to ff#but i played ffxiii first. i still remember the start of the second chapter i think...? then rip ps3 broke#🥹 i'm. i love my childhood#thinking abt it n i've really been exposed to a lot of video games#gow & tlou & loz & ac & the other ac & ff & nier & fe & kh & mario stuff ofc & help sm more#oh man i really have always been passionate about video games. it means so much to me esp w the ones w good stories bcs u play through them#ffxiv as an mmorpg. really fit so well with what i wanted. im really so happy#god i played a lot of board games as well when i was young n those smart wtvr stuff#n a lot of fps in gr 6 especially. n so much gacha games wtf n rhythm games n mobile mmos too#when i get interested in smth i really seek to learning as much of it as i can#i also watched sm anime back then 🫣 n i got into a lot of kpop grps back then too#in ffxiv i do most content. not quite rp yet tho. but i have rped in other places in the past LMFAOOO#thinking abt how i'm so weak for romantic stuff tho. suteki da ne... sob. i blame final fantasy for me being like this#the way i write is so filled with confusion. but also a gentle n strong love for life as a whole. n poems n stories n. longing#please pay me no mind rn i am Emotional n cringe but free#i am emotional rn n distracted n confused n a mess but at least i got that. thing out of my mind. i'll stress about it later
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dalishthunder · 6 days
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.
#I hate my body#Not because of the normal reasons of like... being fat and having a uterus or anything like that#I hate that it fails so so so often#I hate that my doctor wants me to give up fruit because my body just has too high triglycerides and can't convert them properly#I hate that my body makes too much cholesterol#I hate that my thyroid doesn't produce the right hormones#I hate that my brain wants to self destruct all the time#I hate that I've had to cut out basically all of the salt from my diet because my body can't regulate my blood pressure#I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it#I hate that I have to take so many goddamn pills all the time#I hate how expensive it is to maintain#I hate that I finally want to live and my body is actively trying to kill me#I hate the my wrists give out#I hate that I'm losing my hearing#I hate that there's a god awful ringing ringing ringing in my ears that I will never be able to escape#I hate that no matter what I do it's just never fucking *enough*#I hate that I'm only 30 and now I'm not supposed to eat bananas or pineapples or watermelon or passionfruit or enjoy alcohol#what else can I whittle away from my life?#AND THERE'S NO ACTUAL MEDICAL PROOF THAT THIS WILL WORK#anyways I'm going to see my brother next weekend#and we're gonna go hiking#I'm just... fucking done#'you're going to have a heart attack if you don't fix this'#you know I carved the word inadequate into my skin when I was 18#the T is still there the rest of it has faded with time#.... yeah#odt#vent#My body will always be inadequate#an inhospitable wasteland that I am trying so so hard to cultivate in
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uselessdogboy · 9 days
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hi look at these cute earrings instead of my tags <3
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fuck I’m gonna die forever and ever and I don’t want to do that
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torubeth · 2 months
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
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orcelito · 1 year
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ok the thing of my surprise with how much attention Sentido got. it's not like i think it's BAD writing. i've gotten lots and lots of experience, so i dont generally write things i'd consider "bad".
but i know i could do better. a lot of things in Sentido was me hand-waiving it away bc "this is just a drabble piece". it was for practice. i wasnt trying so hard to get everything right & all. so i was genuinely baffled when ppl read it and Loved it
so. im not going to call them wrong for that. im happy that ppl enjoyed it. i'm just going to make it my mission to give trigun fandom a fic that i am genuinely proud of.
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boxingcleverrr · 5 months
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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.
Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.
But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.
The Abduction is The Thing.
Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.
Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.
It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.
I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!
It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.
"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.
And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.
They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.
Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.
That's how it went.
I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:
This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!
Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.
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number-1-crush · 1 year
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oh my fucking GODDDDD
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hungharrington · 2 months
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Ok hear me out casual intimacy with Steve!! Like imagine the first time u shower together and u just wash his hair for him! The first time u change in front of him or wen ur wearing an oversized t shirt and like skimpy panties and go over to the couch where he is and sit in his lap it's the moments where it's such so much trust and love low key him realizing how comfy u are around him and how much u trust him he gets turned on
Brushing ur teeth together at his place? Man is half hard already
ohooooo casual intimacy IS his turn on you’re so goddamn right — this is just like, sweet domesticity <3 and steve then gets turned on by it hehehe + fade to black smut
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There had been a period of time after you got together where Steve sometimes wondered if you were ever going to properly relax around him. Like truly relax.
Not that he minded in the least! Watching you avert your gaze nervously, feeling your face glow all hot when he calls you honey, feeling the little tremble in your fingers when you hold his hand— Steve adores it all.
He knows it means you like him. And Steve likes you too.
He likes you a whole bunch— like a lot a lot, okay? In fact, if he probably told you how much he likes you, you’d probably melt and hide under the covers and never return. Which Steve doesn’t ever want.
So you’re a bit reserved and Steve’s still crazy for you and it works. But basically, he never really expected to get this.
“D’ya wanna, like, maybe, shower together?”
Steve blinks, his towel in one hand and his heart pounding in his chest. Did you just say that? He blinks again, just to be sure.
You’re staring at him from your place on his bed, probably being the bravest you’ve ever been considering what you’ve just asked him.
“Yeah- yes. Of course.” He stammers out before you can get too shy on him. “I’ll go get another towel.”
It doesn’t take long for him to snag another from the linen cupboard but by the time he’s back, he can hear the spray of the shower. You’ve left a trail of clothes leading up to it. Something warm stirs in his chest.
He doesn’t make a big deal about it and you seem grateful for it. Beyond the odd complaint about hogging the water, to which Steve sticks his tongue out at you before switching, it’s almost like an ordinary shower. Washing up, wetting his hair.
Except, y’know, til you offer to wash it.
I swear to god do not get a boner right now, Steve thinks desperately to himself, his head ducked down so you could reach it more easily. You’re not making it easy for him. You’re paying him so much attention, your fingertips soothing along his scalp as you lather up the shampoo, massaging the skin. It’s heaven.
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this relaxed whilst the two of you have no clothes on.
You’ve been trying not to be so iffy about being naked but honestly Steve didn’t care if you were forever. He likes you any way he can get you.
Usually, the lead up to sex is the only time Steve gets to see you naked— when it’s all charged air and an eager energy to start making each other feel good. Hot kisses and a feverish vision of pleasure.
But this… this is different. There’s no charged energy, just a low buzz of love.
You cup your hands over his eyes so shampoo doesn’t get in them when you tilt his head back to rinse it and Steve nearly cries then and there. He’s never been so happy to return a favour, letting you lean up against him as he soaps up your hair. He’s pretty sure your eyes are closed the whole time. It feels good, taking care of you. It makes him happy.
Afterward, as you towel off, Steve keeps expecting that familiar shyness to creep in.
He’s not watching, okay? But as he gets himself dressed, just in his pyjama pants, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re not scrambling to cover up. Instead, you’re at ease, slipping on your panties and then one of his own large t-shirts. You must’ve stolen it when he wasn’t in the room.
It makes him pause, a momentary gawk, before he remembers to close his mouth. You catch the end of it and a flustered expression crosses your face, as if realising how much you’re exposing yourself. And that just won’t do— so Steve remedies it with a kiss, dragging you over to him by the waist so he can lean up against the counter and kiss you sweetly.
You both have wet hair. Your skin is all dewey from the shower and your eyelashes look extra long when they’re wet. You’re fucking beautiful.
It’s all Steve can think as you both brush your teeth in the mirror— making eye contact every couple of seconds and grinning like goofballs. It’s not productive. Steve adores it.
You’re both half-dressed, you without pants and Steve without his shirt, and it’s so damn homey, so cozy, so in love, that it makes Steve’s chest a little tight, in a good way. It’s intimate. You trust him.
Oh my god, He thinks. You trust him.
His pants grow tight. The flimsy material of his pyjamas hide nothing. Steve holds one hand in front of his crotch and looks to the ceiling for strength, because there’s no way you won’t be able to notice.
You lean over and spit out your toothpaste and then look at him through the mirror.
“Steve?”
“Yah?” He gargles back, toothbrush still in his mouth, eyes still on ceiling. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, blood getting a little hotter.
“Are you…?”
He gives a big sigh through his nose, “Yah.”
He finally forces himself to met your eyes through the mirror and you’re… smiling? Almost mischievously. Oh god.
“Because… of the teeth brushing?”
Steve rolls his eyes but the embarrassed flush on his cheeks still gives him away. He leans over and spits his toothpaste, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No, not cos of the— well, not just cos of the—“ He cuts himself off, the blush on his face beginning to spread down his neck. “Look, you washed my hair and you’re not wearing any pants! We’re brushing our teeth together! I like it, okay?”
In a complete reversal of the usual, suddenly Steve’s the flustered one and you’re the cool, calm one. Your smile only grows at his explanation, some of the mischief exchanging for fondness.
“That’s okay,” You say softly. You press up on your toes to kiss his cheek and wander towards the door. “Do you wanna cuddle tonight?”
Steve’s cock gets harder at your words and he groans, because he knows you know what you’re doing— especially when you laugh a little, a cheeky sound. You’re playing into his in-love fantasy, his domestic dream, that somehow has a direct line to his dick now, which is probably most definitely a problem for later.
“You know I do.”
“Well, c’mon then, loverboy,” You coo.
Steve chases you from the bathroom all the way to his sheets, your laughter louder and more beautiful than anything.
And he does get his cuddles —y’know, after he fucks your brains out.
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