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caught-in-a-tism · 11 months

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Corruption

I was struck with inspiration as I lay in bed last night. I'm gonna write it as a rule for dnd 5e but the concept could be adapted to similar games easily.

The basic idea is to sometimes replace damage with Corruption Dice (spooky), which are subtracted from d20 rolls and sometimes cause surprise damage.

(plain text is rules jargon, purple text is me saying stuff)

Concept:

This mechanic is meant to emulate various forms of magical curses as an alternative to damage. In my head it's something that can be inflicted on players if you want to create a sense of impending doom without just damaging them.

It adds a numeric way to simulate indirect harm that spooky things might cause. Just damage can get boring so this is something to heighten vibes and force players out of their comfort zone. The intended effect is to make players feel like something bad is coming, or like they're being forced by some supernatural energy to accept harmful consequences.

Added bonus is that it can mitigate insane modifiers that high level players end up with.

Mechanics:

Corruption is inflicted on characters (or creatures generally) as a number of dice. These dice are not rolled but are added to a pool. For example, if a creature takes 3d6 corruption, add 3d6 to their total corruption and don't roll them (this could be a written tally or a kept as a pile of dice in front of the player). A creature with a non-zero amount of corruption is referred to as corrupted.

This pool of dice remains until spent, or until removed by the lesser restoration spell or any effect that removes curses. Whenever a corrupted creature makes an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw, they can spend some of it by rolling a number of corruption dice and subtracting the total from the initial roll. When they spend corruption in this way, they cannot spend more than 3 dice on any given d20 roll.

Alternatively, a corrupted creature can spend up to 3 corruption dice during a short rest, roll them, and take damage equal to the total.

When a corrupted creature makes an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw and rolls a natural 1, they must immediately spend all of their corruption dice at once. When the dice are spent in this way, they deal necrotic damage to the corrupted creature equal to the number rolled.

Implementation:

Corruption can be quickly inserted as a replacement for damage. It can appropriately be inserted into the spells or abilities of fey, fiends, or undead. One use I would recommend would be to use it instead of damage for magical traps or include the mechanic when designing cursed magic items. For a direct conversion, consult the following table:

If this makes it more complicated than necessary, or you don't want to mix types of dice, just do 2d6 for every 5 damage.

Lair/Legendary Actions:

This is a good place on a stat block to sub in or add corruption. In addition to damage conversion, you may replace any condition caused by a special action (such as frightened or paralyzed) with a number of d12s equal to the challenge rating of the creature. If you wish to make a creature more powerful, choose one or two of these actions and add d6 corruption/CR to the existing effects (allowing a wisdom or charisma save to avoid it if you want).

Regional Effects:

Unhallowed land, the shadowfell, the territory of a cursed or undead creature, or the domain of an illegitimate ruler may all be places where corruption permeates the air and soil. Use it when it feels right or for a specific antagonist or faction if you want them to have a unique flair. When a creature finishes a long rest in a corrupted place, they must make a DC 15 Charisma saving throw. On a success, the creature feels a vague sense of unease but suffers no other effects. On a failure, the creature gains 2d6 corruption.

If the source of the corruption is a sentient creature, they can choose up to 13 creatures that they know to be within the affected area. When any of those creatures fails their saving throw, they instead gain 1d12 corruption for each night they have spent in the affected area.

Monster Traits:

Following are a few example traits that use corruption. They can be added to the statblocks of appropriate creatures. Alternatively, they can be used as identifying features of all creatures in a specific faction or from a specific place.

Aura of Evil. Any creature that starts its turn within 10 ft. of [this creature] must succeed on a DC [8 + proficiency + Cha or Con] Charisma saving throw or gain 1d12 corruption.

Corrupted Strikes. [This creature]'s weapon attacks are magical. When [this creature] hits with any weapon, the target gains 1d8 corruption. A creature immune to necrotic damage or curses is immune to this effect.

Foul Magic. Any creature that fails a saving throw against a spell cast by [this creature] also gains 1d8 corruption. A creature immune to necrotic damage or curses is immune to this effect.

Tainted Blood. A creature that touches [this creature] or hits it within a melee attack while within 5 ft. of it gains 3d6 corruption.

Items:

Below is a single example magic item, to show the way this mechanic could be used to represent curses.

I think it's neat because the ability to use corruption to your advantage encourages a player to seek out dark and dangerous situations. It makes corruption a little less scary, but it uses the meta to push the character to find opponents to inflict it on, lest they suffer the consequences of their actions.

Narrative:

In darker campaign settings, corruption can be used in roleplay to underline thematic elements. The DM may inflict 1-3d8 corruption on any character who gives in to dark desires, betrays someone's trust, does something impious or blasphemous, or witnesses something grim and horrifying.

The DM and players should decide ahead of time exactly which actions or events will lead to corruption, and how severe they have to be to incur a given number (or size) of dice. Consider which type of roleplay you all want to encourage, and which themes should be emphasized.

Player Options:

Spells and abilities that deal damage can easily be converted, either on a character by character or spell by spell basis. Spells that this change would be most appropriate for include arms of hadar, blight, chill touch, cloudkill, dissonant whispers, summon celestial, summon undead, toll the dead, etc.

You could also modify (or make up!) class features so that they inflict corruption instead of damage, or in addition to other effects. A vengeful Cleric's Channel Divinity might inflict corruption upon sinners, even a Rogue's sneak attack might inflict supernatural woe in place of additional damage.

If you, as the DM, allow players to cause enemies to gain corruption, remember that you should spend it more liberally than a player might. You can and should roleplay as that monster or enemy, but consider that a creature that will likely not survive the fight may make the players feel cheated if it never chooses to suffer the penalty.

Variants:

The damage type that corruption deals could easily be changed to highlight different themes. Change it to psychic damage for a more horror or lovecraftian setting, change it to poison damage it you are using it to represent toxic substances or diseases. Perhaps you want to use it to represent radiation poisoning, in which case it could be radiant damage (if not poison or necrotic).

Another idea I like is to make the corruption represent horrible luck. Because the damage is triggered by natural 1s, the DM can describe it as a consequence of some kind of accident and declare an appropriate damage type. For example: a character that rolls a natural 1 on an attack may fall on their sword and take piercing damage equal to their remaining corruption, or a natural 1 on the Constitution save triggered by a green dragon's breath may represent a character gasping and breathing in additional poison damage like an idiot.

Another change, for a more sword and sorcery setting, could include allowing spellcasters to accumulate corruption in exchange for more potent magic. Whenever an arcane caster casts a spell, they may gain 1d12 corruption and increase the level of the spell by one without expending a higher level slot. This could also be a mandatory feature, to make all magic a form of dark bargaining.

This has not been play tested so you may also find it necessary to balance it by including maximum corruption (perhaps dealing its damage if it reaches that threshold), limiting it to d6s or even d4s, or making it less deadly. If the potential damage seems too high, random, and/or disruptive to combat balance, it could be spread out. To do so, change it so that each time a corrupted creature takes damage, they spend one die and add it to the damage.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #homebrew #dnd homebrew #game design #ttrpg #ttrpg resources #first post #dark fantasy #fantasy

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goodnightlovell · 3 months

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enddaysengine · 1 year

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Hunter the Vigil Resources

Included the various Night Horrors books in this one so there is something to hold the Vigil against.

2e Hunter 2e Core Mortal Remains

Chronicles of Darkness Dark Eras 2 - Arthur's Britannia - Empire of Gold and Dust - One Thousand and One Nightmares (Hunter Adjacent) - Rise of the Last Imperials Hurt Locker Night Horrors: Conquering Heroes (Beasts, Insatiables, Unfettered) Night Horrors: Enemy Action (Demons, Angels, Exiles, Cryptids) Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mages) Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolves, Spirits, Claimed, Shadow Occultists, Idigam, and Geryo) Night Horrors: Spilled Blood (Vampires) Night Horrors: The Tormented (Clones, the Jovian, Petrificati, and Zeky)

1e Hunter 1e Core Block by Bloody Block Compacts and Conspiracies Dark Eras - Beneath the Skin (Blue-Book) - Dark Eras: Doubting Souls - Dark Eras: Fallen Blossoms Dark Eras Companion - Lifting the Veil (Blue-Book) Horror Recognition Guide Night Stalkers Ready-Made Characters SAS - Bad Night at Blackmoon Farm SAS - Blood Drive SAS - Murder Will Out SAS - Spearfinger SAS - Under the Skin SAS - Falling Scales Chapter 1 & Chapter 2 Slasher Spirit Slayers Witch Finders

Ancient Bloodlines Ancient Mysteries Fall of the Camarilla Glimpses of the Unknown Requiem for Rome SAS - Paterfamilias

Bundles CofD Dark History Collection of Horrors Hunter Complete Starter Kit

Fiction Tales of the Dark Eras

Art Packs Art Pack 39 Art Pack 40 Art Pack 41

Notable Vault Igniting the Fire Merrick Institute 2e

Actual Plays Stuffed OPP Hunter Actual Plays

#Chronicles of Darkness #World of Darkness #Hunter the Vigil #RPG Resource #RPG inspiration #urban fantasy #urban horror

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blackrosesandwhump · 1 year

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Dark fantasy resource!

I found this great resource for writing dark fantasy today:

It lists a ton of dark fantasy tropes, including tropes related to magic whump, which is one of my favorite things 🤩

Maybe this will help inspire me for all the writing requests I've got waiting in my inbox 😅

#writing resources #writing tropes #fantasy tropes #dark fantasy #fantasy writing #whump tropes #tv tropes #writeblr #whumpblr

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daisyvramien · 6 days

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Writing Classes open in the Fox' Den

Calling all tortured poets, sleepless writers, and seekers of the midnight muse! 📜 The Fox's Den Discord Server dons academia's colors, throwing open its doors and rolling out the welcome mat for an unforgettable summer of literary fun.🦊 Are you ready to dive into a world of poetry challenges, writing games, and all-around creative shenanigans? I'm planning on setting up games, challenges, some watch parties and everything this spring/summer.

If you dare to delve into the depths of writing and poetry, send a clandestine missive via DM to gain entry to our esteemed Discord enclave. Applications for our classes are now open!

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sheepyshenanigans · 1 year

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Magic Library CAS Background by KatVerseCC on The Sims Resource! 🪄📚

https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-mods/title/magic-library-cas-background/id/1405165/

#ts4 cc #ts4 fantasy cc #cas background #hogwarts #dark academia #witch #wizard #spellcaster #realm of magic #halloween #witchy #the sims resource #katverse

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ascendedbananamaster · 4 months

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I'm writing a fantasy novel and the dark elves are so racist that they looped right back around to abolishing slavery two years into building their empire, which they were only building after being exiled by the Drow and getting a new name for living on the surface, all because of a massive civil war over how "Zarrak" is pronounced. Also they would rather burn down their culture than let it fall into the hands of outsiders, which they do while being occupied by a nearby faction.

#fantasy #dark elves #drow #it should be noted that the only reason the dark elves were exiled was because the drow didn't have the resources to kill them all

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cinnamonest · 21 days

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I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.

I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.

The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:

Most women have rape fantasies.

62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!

The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)

To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:

the "go to therapy!" line

Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)

Here are some particularly insightful resources:

1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.

2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).

3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)

4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.

5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.

the "why would you want that?" line

The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.

the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line

On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.

The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.

No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.

ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.

Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:

(X) (X)

The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth

Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.

The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:

1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)

2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.

What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).

Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.

You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!

#im very passionate about this because this sort of thing severely affected younger me #and i dont want that for anyone else!#love yall

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nyxnaiastock · 7 months

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More Dark Queen:

#drawing reference #art reference #pose reference #drawing resource #photography #drawing help #stock photography #reference #figure drawing #dark queen #dark fantasy

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2soulscollide · 1 year

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my favorite free tools for writers

hello, hello! hope you're doing well.

today i am bringing you another list with my top 3 favorite (free!) tools that I find helpful for each phase of writing a novel.

brainstorming phase

Fantasy Names Generator - not only for fantasy (you can also generate real names). this website is just... amazing! it helps you come up with names for characters, places and locations, descriptions, generate traits, outfits (yes, outfits!!), and probably something else you could ever think of.

The Story's Hack - this one is so cool! you can generate names for everything, create your own generator, and practice writing through writing exercises! plus, you can save your generated names to see later, and you earn coins for each idea generated (you can later buy themes - dark, snow, forest, etc)

RanGen - my last favorite generator on this list is RanGen! you can generate plots, appearances, archetypes, love interests, cities, worlds, items, and more.

developing the idea phase

Bryn Donovan - in this blog you can find master lists under the tag "master lists for writers". it is so helpful when you first start developing the characters and need to find the right words to describe them and to find some quirks and flaws!

Writers Write (350 character traits) - again, this is so helpful!

Story Planner - ah, the number of times I've talked about this website... please, PLEASE take a look at it, you won't regret it. this website has literally everything you need to fully develop your idea with outlines for you to fill in step by step.

writing phase

Colleen Houck (80+ barriers to love) - need more romace conflict? there you go!

Cheat Sheets for Writing Body Language - so, you know how your character's feeling, but don't know how he'd physically act? check out this list!

Describing Words - honestly, this is a lifesaver. don't you struggle to find the right word to describe something? well, with this website all you have to do is to type the object you're trying to describe and see which description fits better to you!

revising phase

Language Tool for Google Docs - i know we all have heard about google docs before, but the truth is, it's almost impossible to find free softwares to check grammar and spelling. so, google docs is useful, because it automatically revises it for us, and it's completely free. plus, you can add adds-on, such as "language tool".

Unfortunately, there's only one (free) tool that I actually enjoy for the revising phase. if you know some others, please let me know so that I can try them out and feature in this list.

exporting phase

Google Docs - i find google docs very easy to format and export to .epub, so i'd recommend using it as a free tool.

Reedsy - this is also a free tool available online. all you have to do is to write down each chapter (copy and paste) or import your word document. it will format the document to your liking and export it to pdf, epub and mobi.

that's everything for now! i hope this post was somehow helpful or inspiring!

if you want to see more master lists full of resources, check these:

WEBSITES FOR WRITERS {masterpost}

BEST accounts to follow as a writer

BEST SITES & SOFTWARES TO WRITE FICTION

DIALOGUE IDEAS TO GET RID OF THAT WRITING BLOCK (masterpost)

Useful Resources & Tips for Writers

also, if you are a notion lover just like me, check the free template I just released with everything you need to develop and write your novel!

thank you so much for reading! hope to see you around, and have a nice day <3

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dailyadventureprompts · 8 months

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Monsters Reimagined: Bandits

As a game of heroic fantasy that centers so primarily on combat, D&D is more often than not a game about righteous violence, which is why I spend so much time thinking about the targets of that violence. Every piece of media made by humans is a thing created from conscious or unconscious design, it’s saying something whether or not its creators intended it to do so.

Tolkien made his characters peaceloving and pastoral, and coded his embodiment of evil as powerhungry, warlike, and industrial. When d&d directly cribbed from Tolkien's work it purposely changed those enemies to be primitive tribespeople who were resentful of the riches the “civilized” races possessed. Was this intentional? None can say, but as a text d&d says something decidedly different than Tolkien.

That's why today I want to talk about bandits, the historical concept of being an “outlaw”, and how media uses crime to “un-person” certain classes of people in order to give heroes a target to beat up.

Tldr: despite presenting bandits as a generic threat, most d&d scenarios never go into detail about what causes bandits to exist, merely presuming the existence of outlaws up to no good that the heroes should feel no qualms about slaughtering. If your story is going to stand up to the scrutiny of your players however, you need to be aware of WHY these individuals have been driven to banditry, rather than defaulting to “they broke the law so they deserve what’s coming to them.”

I got to thinking about writing this post when playing a modded version of fallout 4, an npc offhndedly mentioned to me that raiders (the postapoc bandit rebrand) were too lazy to do any farming and it was good that I’d offed them by the dozens so that they wouldn’t make trouble for those that did.

That gave me pause, fallout takes place in an irradiated wasteland where folks struggle to survive but this mod was specifically about rebuilding infrastructure like farms and ensuring people had enough to get by. Lack of resources to go around was a specific justification for why raiders existed in the first place, but as the setting became more arable the mod-author had to create an excuse why the bandit’s didn’t give up their violent ways and start a nice little coop, settling on them being inherently lazy , dumb, and psychopathic.

This is exactly how d&d has historically painted most of its “monstrous humanoid” enemies. Because the game is ostensibly about combat the authors need to give you reasons why a peaceful solution is impossible, why the orcs, goblins, gnolls (and yes, bandits), can’t just integrate with the local town or find a nice stretch of wilderness to build their own settlement on and manage in accordance with their needs. They go so far in this justification that they end up (accidently or not) recreating a lot of IRL arguments for persecution and genocide.

Bandits are interesting because much like cultists, it’s a descriptor that’s used to unperson groups of characters who would traditionally be inside the “not ontologically evil” bubble that’s applied to d&d’s protagonists. Break the law or worship the wrong god says d&d and you’re just as worth killing as the mindless minions of darkness, your only purpose to serve as a target of the protagonist’s righteous violence.

The way we get around this self-justification pitfall and get back to our cool fantasy action game is to relentlessly question authority, not only inside the game but the authors too. We have to interrogate anyone who'd show us evil and direct our outrage a certain way because if we don't we end up with crusades, pogroms, and Qanon.

With that ethical pill out of the way, I thought I’d dive into a listing of different historical groups that we might call “Bandits” at one time or another and what worldbuilding conceits their existence necessitates.

Brigands: By and large the most common sort of “bandit” you’re going to see are former soldiers left over from wars, often with a social gap between them and the people they’re raiding that prevents reintegration ( IE: They’re from a foreign land and can’t speak the local tongue, their side lost and now they’re considered outlaws, they’re mercenaries who have been stiffed on their contract). Justifying why brigands are out brigading is as easy as asking yourself “What were the most recent conflicts in this region and who was fighting them?”. There’s also something to say about how a life of trauma and violence can be hard to leave even after the battle is over, which is why you historically tend to see lots of gangs and paramilitary groups pop up in the wake of conflict.

Raiders: fundamentally the thing that has caused cultures to raid eachother since the dawn of time is sacristy. When the threat of starvation looms it’s far easier to justify potentially throwing your life away if it means securing enough food to last you and those close to you through the next year/season/day. Raider cultures develop in biomes that don’t support steady agriculture, or in times where famine, war, climate change, or disease make the harvests unreliable. They tend to target neighboring cultures that DO have reliable harvests which is why you frequently see raiders emerging from “the barbaric frontier” to raid “civilization” that just so happens to occupy the space of a reliably fertile river valley. When thinking about including raiders in your story, consider what environmental forces have caused this most recent and previous raids, as well as consider how frequent raiding has shaped the targeted society. Frequent attacks by raiders is how we get walled palaces and warrior classes after all, so this shit is important.

Slavers: Just like raiding, most cultures have engaged in slavery at one point or another, which is a matter I get into here. While raiders taking captives is not uncommon, actively attacking people for slaves is something that starts occurring once you have a built up slave market, necessitating the existence of at least one or more hierarchical societies that need more disposable workers than then their lower class is capable of providing. The roman legion and its constant campaigns was the apparatus by which the imperium fed its insatiable need for cheap slave labor. Subsistence raiders generally don’t take slaves en masse unless they know somewhere to sell them, because if you’re having trouble feeding your own people you’re not going to capture more ( this is what d&d gets wrong about monstrous humanoids most of the time).

Tax Farmers: special mention to this underused classic, where gangs of toughs would bid to see who could collect money for government officials, and then proceed to ransack the realm looking to squeeze as much money out of the people as possible. This tends to happen in areas where the state apparatus is stretched too thin or is too lighthanded to have established enduring means of funding. Tax farmers are a great one-two punch for campaigns where you want your party to be set up against a corrupt authority: our heroes defeat the marauding bandits and then oh-no, turns out they were not only sanctioned by the government but backed by an influential political figure who you’ve just punched in the coinpurse. If tax farming exists it means the government is strong enough to need a yearly budget but not so established (at least in the local region) that it’s developed a reliably peaceful method of maintaining it.

Robber Baron: Though the term is now synonymous with ruthless industrialists, it originated from the practice of shortmidned petty gentry (barons and knights and counts and the like) going out to extort and even rob THEIR OWN LANDS out of a desire for personal enrichment/boredom. Schemes can range from using their troops to shake down those who pass through their domain to outright murdering their own peasants for sport because you haven’t gotten to fight in a war for a while. Just as any greed or violence minded noble can be a robber baron so it doesn’t take that much of a storytelling leap but I encourage you to channel all your landlord hate into this one.

Rebels: More than just simple outlaws, rebels have a particular cause they’re a part of (just or otherwise) that puts them at odds with the reigning authority. They could violently support a disfavoured political faction, be acting out against a law they think is unjust, or hoping to break away from the authority entirely. Though attacks against those figures of authority are to be expected, it’s all too common for rebels to go onto praying on common folk for the sake of the cause. To make a group of rebels worth having in your campaign pinpoint an issue that two groups of people with their own distinct interests could disagree on, and then ratchet up the tension. Rebels have to be able to beleive in a cause, so they have to have an argument that supports them.

Remnants: Like a hybrid of brigands, rebels, and taxfarmers, Remnants represent a previously legitimate system of authority that has since been replaced but not yet fully disappeared. This can happen either because the local authority has been replaced by something new (feudal nobles left out after a monarchy toppling revolution) or because it has faded entirely ( Colonial forces of an empire left to their own devices after the empire collapses). Remnants often sat at the top of social structures that had endured for generations and so still hold onto the ghost of power ( and the violence it can command) and the traditions that support it. Think about big changes that have happened in your world of late, are the remnants looking to overturn it? Win new privilege for themselves? Go overlooked by their new overlords?

Art

#monsters reimagined #bandits #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder #heavy topics #monsters reimagined

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ghostfanwriter · 9 months

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✨🍑 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 🍑✨

🍑 Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

✨ Synopsis: You catch Joel looking at a dress while on run for supplies, so you decide to bring it home... And torture him with it at a Jackson party.

🍑 Features: 🔞 Pre established relationship, possessive Joel, teasing, edging, Joel spiting in reader's mouth (🫥), real quick feet action, rough unprotected piv, oral sex (f and m receiving), Joel being insecure and soft at the end.

✨ Word count: Around 7k

🍑 About this: The Jackson couple's back! This time I wanted to touch more on their dynamics and how they work outside the bedroom. But everything builds to some possessive sex with a very possessive Joel.

✨ Author's Note: I've had this drafted for months now, and it finally matured enough to be yours 🩷

Good reading ✨🍑

You were on a run for supplies and winter clothes with Joel and a few others from Jackson. The two of you found this fancy women's clothes store and were grabbing everything that felt nice and warm. Besides, you thought of looking for nice dresses for women to wear on your solstice party, that would celebrate the end of summer and all the resources you got from it.

Joel said it was okay with him as long as you carried the bag full of dresses back home.

You finished looking around and went after Joel, who you found holding a dress in front of himself, just looking at it. His brain forming the perfect image of how your body would look in it.

He knew every line and every curve you had, having touched, bitten, kissed and squeezed you enough times to have them memorized. He thought about how life would be if things didn't go to shit.

Taking you to a party, wearing nice clothes and just drinking and having fun. He was lost in his fantasy when someone called everyone out, it was getting late and it would be dark soon. He yelled back and put the dress back where he found it, turning his head to look for you, calling you by your name.

You hide and as soon as he leaves that corner of the store you run to it and grab the dress, putting it inside your backpack and running back to the other side of the store, emerging from the clothes racks for him to find you.

"Hey, I'm here." You say. He looks at you and smiles.

"C'mon, baby, gotta go." You walk towards him and hold his hands, snuggling to his side as you walk out the store to find the others and go back home.

When he saw you struggling with its weight, Joel insisted he'd carry the bag with the dresses for you.

"Holy fucking shit!" Ellie almost screams when you walk out the bathroom. You look at her and her eyes are wide, mouth open and a ever so light blush on her cheeks. Dina turns to look at you and her face looks exactly like Ellie's, but she's also laughing.

"Oh, someone's definitely gonna fucking die tonight. Either Joel will fall dead when he sees you or he's going to kill every man that looks at you."

You laugh. You only truly saw the dress when you picked it up from your backpack to wash it over at Ellie and Dina's. You didn't want Joel seeing it and ruining the surprise.

The dress is tight and long, but has a slit on one of the legs that goes all the way to your thigh, almost to your hips. It hugs your body perfectly and you can't wait to see his face.

Winter was soon to arrive and for a good while you'll not bare to wear any less than three layers of clothes, so you wanted to enjoy your last chance to look good on something.

Joel was out working all day, and by the end of the afternoon he went home to shower.

He smiled when he found the clothes you left him perfectly laid out on top of your bed, with a perfume you got him a while back.

He was hoping to find you home, but he loved that you took your time to prepare this for him. He got ready and went straight to where the party was gonna happen to help hang lights, fix a few things and be his hot contractor self.

You were gonna meet him with Ellie and Dina, who were also dressed up on some nicer button up shirts and jeans they've found.

On the way from their house to the party, you got compliments all around, men and women turning heads to look at you. You were happy to see all the women in dresses and nice clothes. It was a privilege you had in Jackson, to dress up and have fun, and you were glad everyone was having a good time.

For just one night it was good to forget the world had ended.

You start looking for Joel as soon as you arrive at the party. Scanning the place, you find him drinking and laughing amongst a few men. It's funny how anyone around him looks blurry to you. As soon as you see your man, there's nothing else that could get your attention.

Nothing else matters.

He looks so good, so big, so strong. His wide shoulders, big frame, strong chest and stomach, his legs, spread and inviting, making you want to sit on him. His arms, showing through the flannel he's wearing, his big hand making an already tiny shot glass look even smaller.

One of the men with him locks eyes on you and Joel curiously follows his gaze.

When his eyes land on you his expression thickens immediately. He looks at you up and down, stopping at your face. Your smile disarming him completely. He puts his glass down and gets up, heavily walking towards you with a smile on his face. You open your arms, squeezing him tight when he hugs you, engulfing you in his arms.

"Missed you" You said, because spending the day away felt like an eternity.

"Thought about you all day, peach. Couldn't wait to see you." He said on your neck.

You pull away, he holds you by the waist and you keep your fingers interlaced behind his back, giving him a quick but firm kiss on the lips. "Look as good as you thought?" You ask and his face reddens — he didn't think you saw him with the dress that day. "Can't hide from you, can I?"

"Nuh-uh." You say, shaking your head and giggling.

"You look even better than I thought, amor." He kisses your cheek, a low and effective move he knows to make you melt in his hands.

"You look really good too." You praise him and he looks down at himself, wearing the outfit you sorted for him, a nice button up flannel and a new pair of jeans. A stark contrast from the worn out clothes he wears everyday. "Have to look good when I have you like this by my side, baby. Or the others will see you're too good for me and try and take you away from me."

You shoot him a stern look through your lashes and dig your nails on his back. He gets it and laughs. "Alright, no saying stuff like that about myself. Got it."

"Well, let it be known, Joel Miller, that I wouldn't leave this party with anyone else but you." You say, getting on your tiptoes to give him another quick peck on the lips.

"C'mon, stop being so fucking gay you two." Ellie teases, bringing you a drink and calling you to come hang out with your friends. "Good to see you too, Ellie." Joel says, reluctantly letting you go and watching you walk away.

It had been a long time since you've had this much fun. Hanging out with your friends, sitting on Joel's lap and listening to the stories everyone had to tell.

You laughed, drank and spent time with people you cherished.

But it didn't take long for Joel to get overwhelmed by the attention you were getting.

As soon as you started greeting people and walking around, he noticed the way people looked and touched you for even just a second too long.

This one guy approached you by the drinks table and kept talking to you. Joel doing his best to focus on his food and not break his own teeth with the force he was chewing it down.

He looked at you, young and pretty. Your dress hugging your body so nicely, your hair falling effortlessly over your shoulders, a big smile on your face.

People just couldn't look only once.

And it made him feral.

They all turned to shoot you a second look, almost as if trying to make sure they were actually seeing you. Like you were a mirage.

He couldn't blame them, though. He knew that feeling all too well. To not believe his eyes when looking at you; he felt the same when you first slept together.

He was frozen, sitting on the edge of his bed watching you undress, bringing you close to him and kissing your body, to make sure everything he was seeing was actually there, in front of him.

And he mesmerized you the same way, even today, watching him work from a distance. Your mind wandering thinking about the man, as if you've never been with him. Picturing his strong arms holding you, making you feel safe.

Whenever something broke on your house you always offered to help him fix it. Not just to be useful — even though you knew very little about fixing things, he was slowly teaching you what he knew —, but also to watch him. His muscles flexing, his hair getting messy, the thin layer of sweat that slowly covered his skin, his each time more laborious breathing.

You couldn't help but eat the man with your eyes.

You feel good knowing that amongst all the women in Jackson, you were lucky enough to be by his side.

Your chest almost aching from imagining if he were someone else's. Making you do your best to show him how much you wanted and loved him.

How much you loved when he hugged you tight, when he soothed you when you were scared or sad, how he caressed your hair for you to sleep, how he played his guitar on your porch, singing you nice songs. How he snuggled his nose on your neck before leaving for work, how loved he made you feel.

But he didn't know that. He thought he was the lucky one. That you could just leave him at any minute, going after a stronger and younger man.

He was removed from his thoughts when Tommy touched his shoulder. His tense expression softening a little. "Hey, man! Have you figured out how to make it look like an accident yet?" He laughs, looking at Joel and following his gaze, finding you by the drinks table, the guy still talking to you.

"Don't know if I want it to look like an accident." Joel says back, and his serious tone makes Tommy wonder if he's actually considering killing the man for talking to you.

Knowing his brother...

"Hum. Make him an example; send a message, right? 'Look what happens when you mess with that belongs to me!'" he says, mocking Joel. Joel shoots him a stern look, but laughs when his brother slaps his chest.

"Hey, quit it man, alright? She looks good, boys will flirt with her, get over it. I would bet my ass she would never pay them any mind." Tommy tries to ease him.

Joel sees the man get more comfortable around you, laughing and touching your arm occasionally. You look relaxed, and he fucking hates it. You're terribly oblivious to notice when someone's flirting with you — although you always cut it as soon as you notice.

It's just that this time it's taking you a bit too fucking long to do something about it.

"It's not her I'm worried about. Some of these boys think they're grown men, think they can talk to her like that." He shoves more food inside his mouth, clearly eating to release some steam.

On the other side of the salon, you're getting tired of the conversation you're in, and your face probably shows it. The guy starts accelerating his pace.

"Anyway, I was thinking you would like to leave this party? I mean, it's kind of dumb, you know? Maybe we could go to my place, or yours." Your face freezes. Was this guy flirting with you this whole time?

Fuck.

You look over a Joel, and judging by his face... yes. This guy was flirting with you.

Fuck.

You know you should shake the guy off, tell him you're not interested.

But when you keep looking at Joel... Jealousy looked so good on him, his jaw moving slowly and forcefully, his eyes hooded and dark, eyebrows low, nostrils wide. You wanna see more of it.

"I don't think it's a dumb party. It's fun, were celebrating everything summer gave us, everything we have stocked up." You say.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But not as much fun as we could have somewhere else." He said, coming closer to you. You watch Joel from your peripheral, making sure he's not coming over to murder the poor guy.

"Can't. Don't want to, honestly." You say, feeling bad at how the guy's face sinks. "Besides, I have a man, you know? Joel, Tommy's brother." The guy's face now goes pale, his eyes widen and he follows your gaze, already on Joel and Tommy.

He pulls away from you. Almost like he can see his fate on Joel's expression.

He heard the stories, of what Joel did before Jackson. He didn't want to be in one of them.

"I'm so sorry. I... I didn't know. I've never seen you two together, like together. I thought you were just close because of Ellie. I'm so sorry." He managed to say between stutters before rushing away from you.

You look back at Joel and Tommy and laugh, biting the inside of your lower lip.

You grab your drink and walk towards Joel, a silly and innocent smile on your face.

"What did he say?" Tommy asked laughing, wanting to see Joel's reaction. You look at Joel, seeing his low eyebrows and forceful chewing.

He was livid, but not at you. Maybe your oblivion, but not you. He liked how you teased him, because he knew it'd never go beyond that, and you were only doing it for him. But fuck... He hated to see men flirt with you.

"We were talking about food and supplies, and then out of nowhere he asked if we could go over to his or my place. Said we could have move fun there." You said, making Tommy laugh, Joel shaking his head furiously, still chewing his food.

"Poor guy was inviting himself to his own death." Tommy said laughing, and Joel grunted, shaking his head, still chewing.

His brother was right. If a guy showed up at your doorstep looking for you, Joel would just snap his neck on the spot.

"You need to pay more attention, baby. These boys don't wanna be your friends, I told you that." Joel says on a tender but firm tone. Tommy finishes his drink and gets up.

"He's right, sweetheart. You give these boys too much attention and they think you're theirs. Cut it as soon as they start." He advices, slapping Joel on the back of his shoulder when leaving. "Besides I don't want to help Joel hide any fucking bodies. Behave you two. Also, try and have some fucking fun, Joel! It's a party." He says, dancing away from you two.

Joel moves on his stool, spreads his legs and taps his thigh, calling you to come closer. You get in between his legs, leaning on him with your butt against his thigh. He buries his nose on your hair, caressing your sides. "I know you're right. But he was just talking about the food at first, as soon as he said that I told him I wasn't single and left." Your tone apologetic.

Joel's eyes softened. He knew he could trust you, and he hated to see you believe he thought you would flirt with anyone else. "I believe you, amor. I just hate to see it. You're mine, they should feel lucky they can look at you. Not be so fucking disrespectful." He said, kissing your temple.

Realistically, Jackson was a bit too full of people to keep track of all the couples. So, naturally, not everyone knew you and Joel were together, but it still made him angry how men would throw themselves at you.

He knows you are more than a pretty facade, and he doesn't like seeing you diminished to that. He loves you.

All of you.

The fact that you're eye candy is just a bonus he still isn't sure he deserves.

"Do you wanna dance? Let everyone see me in your arms, know I'm yours." You whisper the last part on his good ear, softly pulling his hair behind it. Your faces are close while you watch him fondly.

"Dance?" He's not much of a dancer, but he sighs at how you're looking at him.

A sweet smile across your face, your lower lip between your teeth, your eyes sweet and hopeful.

He can't say no to you.

You pull him up and he reluctantly follows you, dancing to a few songs you had on old CDs around Jackson. Your bodies are close, your head resting on his chest, his mouth on your temple, kissing you there.

"I know you do it on purpose." He suddenly says, his voice low and intimidating. Almost scary, honestly.

"What do you mean?" You look up at him, your head tilted to the side, your bodies still glued by the torsos.

"Y'know what I mean. Giving these boys attention just to piss me off. To see what I'll do about it later." His dark tone tickling your stomach, contrasting with his soft touch as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

"And what will you do about it?" You mimick his whisper.

"Still planning, bunny. But I'll make sure you don't do this again. Only I get to see this dress after tonight." He says, squeezing your waist harder. You sigh, laughing as you hug him tighter before letting him go and taking his hand in yours.

You walk him away from the crowd, talking to some people on the way, sneaking together into a bathroom and locking the door.

You pull him into a needy kiss, and he presses his already hard cock on you, taking you with hunger, his big arms engulfing you and his mouth not giving you room to breath. His beard scratches your face, the thin pain from it just making you lean further into him.

You pull away when you feel like you're gonna faint, palming him and biting his lower lip, both your breaths deep and heavy. When he mentions to open his belt, though, you lace your fingers on his locks, forcing him down.

He smirks and lets you lower him, pulling your dress up by the hips, revealing your underwear — also a new pair, one you got just for him. He groans at the sight.

He kisses your mount and licks your folds through your panties, making you laugh before pulling at the fabric, lowering it down your legs. You lets your dress go, and he groans when you open your legs and the slit of the dress grants him free access to your pussy. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, licking your clit.

"Fucking made for this, baby." He says with an amused sigh before burying his face on your folds.

He kisses, sucks and bites you with such passion, you're sure you don't last even one minute before cumming, pulling on his hair to keep balance and quietly moaning his name, little screams escaping your lips. You're doing your best to support yourself against the wall and not fall.

It's the type of orgasm that turns your brain off. Your legs struggle to hold you up, your body is shaking, you can't speak. Not even your tongue you can manage to hold inside your mouth, a wide and silly smile spread across your face.

He pulls your underwear fully out of you, and you whimper — the closest you can do to speaking, protesting, right now.

"I'll keep this. You won't need it anymore." He says, shoving your underwear into his back pocket and holding your face with both hands, his grip strong and comforting, your nails digging in his biceps.

"We'll go home now. No more playing around. You'll walk outside, say your goodbyes and I'm taking you home. I'll show you what you get for fucking teasing me, bunny." He says slowly and sternly as you look into his eyes, doing your best to pay attention and listen to him.

You're holding onto him, and he's supporting you up. You'd just fall if he let go. Your eyes are watering and wide, bliss glistening all over them. Your lips are frozen on a silly smile, and he stares at you for a second, a smile stamping his own lips.

"You're already like this and I haven't even fucked you yet, baby. So adorable." He kisses your jaw, maneuvering your face with such ease it makes you want to take him right there and then. To just handle you and do whatever he wants.

You moan into his beard, tugging on his shirt, trying to squeeze his arms. "Please, Joel." You beg in a whine.

"Uh-huh. You were teasing me till a minute ago and now you want me to treat you with my cock? You know how it works, baby." He pulls away, smiling when he sees the pout on your lips. "My way now. I'm dealing with you at home." He says kissing your pout before letting go of you, almost letting you fall on the floor.

He turns his back and leaves the bathroom, knowing damn well you were just gonna follow him and go home.

He knows you may want this even more than he does.

And he loves it.

You try to drop to your knees

"No. Not today." He says, grunting as he pulls you up.

You whine, melting into his arms, staying steady into his embrace.

But he's already mad, and he's already gonna fucking destroy you.

So why not make him give you his worst?

He is sucking on your neck when you let out amidst a moan: "You know, the men back at the party would let me do it."

He pulls away and shoots you a stern look, a cold and serious one. A look that told you clearly to not keep pushing him.

A look he rarely shot you, a complete contrast from the soft, sweet and weak gaze he'd offer you every time you looked at him.

And you know he's losing it. You know he's fighting not to throw you on the bed and fuck you until you apologize.

The problem is: he knows you never do. You've learned that if you make him mad he will fuck you, punishing you for it, so you never apologize.

Because you don't want him to stop. You love it.

You don't feel bad after it, no matter what he does to you.

You want him to do whatever he wants.

To use you like you're there just to please him, just to give him some relief. You want him to call you names, and to fuck your brain out of your body.

And then you want him to hug you tight and call you his good girl, tell you how good you did for him, how lucky he is to have you. How much he loves you.

You love it. You love him.

You love it when he gets jealous, when he possessively wraps his arms around you when a boy talks to you, how he whispers before bed that you belong to him.

Because you don't want it any other way.

"They'd looove me to do it." You say with a smile.

Maybe you drank a bit more than you should have..

"Did you behave like a fucking whore to every man you fucked, baby? Or is it just for me?" He asks, and oh... You like this. The deep and short moan you let out proof of just how much you like this.

"Just for you, Joel. Only you deserve it." You say with a smile, and he frowns, lust consuming more and more of him with every word you say. "Any other man tries to talk or fuck me like you do and I'd slit their throat." You whisper in his good ear, earning a grunt from him.

"That's because you're not a slut, angel. No. You're a good girl, the best one I've ever had in my hands. Doing all I want." He goes back to your neck. "But you sure know how to act like a whore when you want to, baby. A real good one." He says pulling your head back, allowing himself more skin on your neck.

You moan. "I do it because I know you like it."

He groans, grinding his dick on you. "As long as it's just for me."

"You know it is." You whisper. "Let me do it, show you what only you can see." You say even lower, caressing him through his jeans.

"No. My way now, you'll take what I give you." He says, throwing you on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs, bringing you close to the edge before dropping your legs back down. "And if you're good to me, I might give you what you want."

He opens the dress's slit, kissing your mount and licking his way through your still connected folds, his tongue finding your clit between your folds and rolling circles around it.

"Oh, God — Joel." You moan, already feeling something forming inside your core.

"You tell me when you're gonna cum. If you don't, I'm not touching you here for the rest of the night." He says, his voice serious and stern.

"And how are you gonna cum if you don't touch me?" You ask, a smile on your lips.

"Plenty of ways I can cum without making you cum, baby. I can fuck this pretty face, can fuck your thighs, your tits, so many things I could do to you. You only cum after I say so. Alright?" He punctuates every way with a kiss to your mount.

You nod.

"Words, bunny, need you to use your words. Do you understand me?" He says, a stern but comforting tone, lifting your legs and resting your thighs over his shoulders, spreading your folds open with his thumbs.

"Yes, sorry, yes. I understand." You mumble, running your fingers through his hair, your entrance burning in anticipation.

"There's my smart girl." He praises before licking a streak from your entrance to your clit, your eyes rolling back. He rolls his tongue around your clit, sucking on it, his eyes focused on your face.

He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue before pushing it inside, rolling it around inside you and bringing his thumb to your clit, drawing tight and slow circles over it.

You moan and call his name, your back arching and your lower muscles contracting. He groans and squeezes your hips, pulling you lower onto his face.

You pull his hair as he switches, french kissing your clit as he inserts one, then two of his thick fingers inside you. His beard burns your sensitive skin, and the pain makes you roll your hips on him, burying his face even deeper on you.

You lift your hips from the mattress and he holds them high, grabbing your butt and squeezing it. His hungry eyes not leaving yours for even a second.

He thrusts in and out of you with his fingers, his tongue lapping on your clit as his lips stay locked around it, sucking on it progressively harder and harder.

"Joel." You moan, the ease with which he always coaxed orgasms out of you never failing to impress.

He feels your walls tightening around his fingers and picks up his pace, sucking harder on your clit and thrusting his fingers more roughly.

When he starts curling them, right on your sweetest spot, your throat shuts and you gasp, pulling his hair harder and locking your ankles around his back.

"Joel — fuck — I'm gonna cum, please. Please, let me cum." You beg. He doesn't make it easy for you, though, intensifying his movements even more, waiting for your ultimate tell that you'd cum.

When your hips start raising even higher and your walls compress his fingers even more, he lets go of you completely. Leaving your clit throbbing, your entrance leaking and burning with need. Your mouth dry and open, your eyes watering, your legs sore and shaky.

"No, no, no. Please, Joel, don't." You plead. You hated when he edged you, because he let your orgasm start, then ruined it. Not fuelling it for you, letting it die bitterly between your legs.

You reach for your pussy, but he catches your wrists, holding them tight.

"You wanna behave like that? Talk about having other cocks in your mouth? Then you gotta be a big girl and accept the consequences of your actions, baby." He says, getting up and pulling your arms.

He pulls you into a kiss, but you're mad at him, so you don't correspond it. "So pretty all angry like this. Like you don't love it when I do this to you." He whispers close to your mouth, a playful smirk on his face.

You kiss him, deep and needy, moaning at your own taste and holding his arms, almost climbing on him to kiss him deeper. You grab his cock through his jeans, and his hips buck into your hand.

"Let me do it." You moan.

"Thinking about sucking other men made you forget your manners, baby?" He asks, biting on your throat.

"I want it." You whine.

"And how do we say?" He asks, going back to kissing your throat, his fingers intertwined tightly with the hair in the back of your head.

You let out a frustrated moan, one he knows to be an acceptance of defeat. "Please, Joel. Let me do it. I want you in my mouth, please. I promise I'll be so good."

He laughs on your neck.

You're always so good.

"Get down." He says sternly, his lips leaving your neck while he stares at you with furrowed brows.

He just can't say no to you.

To think that you ask — constantly beg — to suck his cock, was too good of a vision to waste. He had women be grossed out by it enough times to not be grateful when he has you begging so nicely for it.

You don't get down, just holding his stare as you admire his strong features. How his brows and nose frame his whole face, how his beard is starting to grey around the edges, how pretty his mouth and his eyes are.

How much you love him, how much you love when he treats you like this. Because you know he loves and respects you, and he'd never do anything to hurt you or make you feel bad.

The best word you can use to describe what you feel for him is pure adoration.

You're pulled out of your mind when be grabs your jaw.

"You wanted this, didn't you? Talked to that stupid boy to get me to do this, right? Then you got what you fucking wanted, no reason to keep being a fucking brat." He says, making you smile. His head tilts to the side, his nostrils widen and he twitches inside his jeans.

He pushes you down to your knees, opening his belt on a split, the sound of his ziper and belt making your stomach float inside your belly.

You have a silly smile on your face, and you retribute his teasing by pulling just his jeans down and licking his tip through his underwear, right where it's wet with his precum. He grunts and interlaces his fingers with your hair.

"Teased me enough, haven't you, amor?" He says with a grunt, as you suck on his clothed tip, stroking him over his underwear a few times while indulging in how big, hard and thick he feels on your hand. How you can feel him pulse sometimes, and how much you love to taste him.

The latter makes you pull his underwear down, staring at his cock for a beat and, without touching him with your hands, lick around his urethra, gathering his precum in your tongue. His cock twitches and jumps away from you, making you laugh.

"Jesus Christ, baby." He groans, furrowing his brows and pulling your hair. His hips instinctively buck forwards.

You reach for his tip again, still not touching him. You roll your tongue around it and suck him inside your mouth, applying pressure and licking your lips when you let him go, twitching again, away from you.

Joel grunts, your teasing not helping your case.

Not that you're trying to make him less mad at you anyway.

"Do it right or I'm taking it away from you." He says sternly, and you frown, instantly grabbing him, stroking him slowly as you suck and roll your tongue around his tip. "Shit. Good girl, like that." He groans, throwing his head back. His fingers caressing your head without forcing you to move.

He knows you don't need guidance with this. He loves how you blow him.

You take more of him inside your mouth, but his edging made your mouth dry, and his precum isn't enough to make him slide into your mouth easily.

"Joel?" You call, you voice small. He looks back down at you, humming in response.

"Can you help me? My mouth's a bit dry." You ask, keeping your voice sweet and low.

"Tell me what you need, peach. So pretty using your words for me like this." He says, stroking your hair gently.

"Can you... Spit on it for me?" You ask. You could just wet your mouth until he slides inside it. But he's right there above you...

"On your mouth or my cock?" He asks and you shrug. "Your choice, baby." He says softly, still stroking your hair.

"Can it be both?" You ask with a smile. He smiles and pulls you up by your armpits, grunting.

"Open wide for me." He pants, his voice raspy.

You do so, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

"Now don't swallow, you're gonna need it." He says before spiting inside your mouth once, making you moan.

You swallow instantly, your core leaking when you do.

"Why such a brat today, baby?" He asks, smiling and furrowing his eyebrows. His hands cup your cheeks tenderly.

"I tried not to, I swear." You smile, biting the thumb he rubs over your lips. He pulls your lips open.

The crease between his eyebrows gets deeper when he does it again, once again earning a moan from you. "Want more?" He asks, and you nod, your brows furrowed. He does it with a smile, holding both your cheeks, your ears between his index and middle fingers while he admires the pool he made on your tongue.

He kisses your cheek, right under your eye, besides your nose. "Knees." And you fall back down, your mouth closed, full of him, doing your best to not swallow it.

He gathers some more saliva in his mouth while you take him in your mouth. You go as deep as you can with the wetness inside your mouth, stoping and looking at him.

Aiming for his cock, he spits on it, close to his base.

You take him in deeper, swishing his saliva around his cock. "There you go, amor. This month feels so fucking good." He praises as you start picking up your pace, your mouth around his tip, hand working his length, twisting your wrist, feeling his skin move under your hand. Your other hand goes to his balls, caressing and squeezing them lightly, making him grunt.

"Fuck — Taking me so well you almost made me forget you were thinking about other cocks, baby. So bad." He says and you moan. You could never think about anyone else, you just said it to piss him off.

Gladly he knows that, but gladly it doesn't mean he won't play along with it.

He holds your head with both hands, pulling your hair back, carefully gathering it in his fists, and you hold onto his thighs.

"Ready?" He asks as he pulls out of your mouth.

The tenderness in his touch and voice a stark contrast of what he's about to do to you.

"For you always." You moan back, and he caresses your scalp.

"My pretty girl." He praises. "All mine." While he places his tip inside your mouth. "Suck it."

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck on it, rolling your tongue around him, never breaking eye contact.

He pushes himself in, going all the way to the back of your throat before pulling away. Then doing it again.

A particular thrust goes even deeper, and he bottoms out inside your throat. You gag, and he holds your head in place, grunting with the squeeze.

He picks up his pace, eventually fucking your mouth. His hands pressing on the sides of your head, his thrusts deep and mean.

"Oh yeah, so so tight for me, baby. So good, could fucking cum inside this mouth." He says, thrusting deeper before pulling away from you, a thick streak of saliva still connecting his tip to your mouth. You stare up at him, admiring his imposing figure. How he towers over you, how big and strong he is.

He pulls you up and away from your adoration, fixing your hair and wiping your lips and chin with the sleeve of his flannel.

"I swear to God if I ever see you step outside wearing this dress again, baby..." He says, looking down at your body, squeezing your waist.

"If you say you're gonna do all this again I'm going out tomorrow with it." You say with a smile, and he laughs, looking at you through his lashes, that dark gaze back on his face.

He throws you on the bed, removing his shirt. You reach for him with your feet, and he kicks his pants away. You stroke him once with your feet and he holds them, keeping them tight together, thrusting a few times with his eyes closed before snapping them open and looking down at you.

"See? Another way for me to cum without making you cum. But not today, baby." He laughs, spreading your legs and opening your dress right on the slit. "So fucking made for me." He says, both at the slit and at you.

He wraps his forearm underneath you and pushes you further onto the bed, kneeling between your legs.

"Wanna apologize before I start?" He asks, running his tip through your folds, gathering your arousal.

You laugh, supporting yourself on your elbows to kiss him, and he pushes in, all the way, slowly, letting you wet every inch of him before inserting the next.

You moan into his mouth, wrapping one, then both your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you. His weight crushes you, and you gasp when he pulls almost all the way out before roughly going back in.

His first thrust sets a relentless pace, his hips slamming against yours. He wraps his left arm underneath you again, pulling you even further onto the bed, never letting himself slip out of you.

"God — Joel." You moan, screaming his name on his shoulder, his thrusts forcing air out of your lungs, making you gasp while you do your best to breath.

"So fucking tight, baby." He breaths on your hair. "Fucking made for me, just me. All — grunts— fucking — grunts —mine." He says, punctuating every last word with a thrust.

"Yours Joel. Keep me so full I can't think of anyone else." You cry on his neck, your orgasm coming closer and closer to you.

"Fuck — Such a good girl for me, only one I fucking — grunts —need." He groans, his pace somehow getting rougher. He wraps his other arm around you, keeping you locked under himself, his hips moving fast and hard.

The brush of his skin and his pubic hair on your clit is enough to make you whimper and clench around him.

"Please, Joel. I have to cum." You beg, your orgasm only not hitting you because you know better than to go against his word.

"Sure know how to take it like a whore, baby. I'm fucking you like this and you're asking to cum on my cock, huh? So fucking good." He teases, squeezing you in his embrace.

"Yes, Joel. Please, I want to." You whine, your nails digging deep into his back.

"Cum for me, baby. C'mon, you're being such a good girl for me. You deserve it." He coos, kissing your neck, somehow fucking you even rougher, even deeper, even faster, pulling a strong and deep orgasm out of you.

"Joel!" You moan almost pornographically, screaming his name passionately, your throat hurting with how loud you're being all of a sudden.

You'll certainly get some looks tomorrow. And it's not gonna be because of the dress.

The way you scream his name makes him cover your mouth — the whole bottom of your face — with his large hand.

"Shh, trying to tell the whole town who you belong to, peach? I thought that was why you wanted to dance at the party." He laughs, watching as your face contorts and grunting at how much you squeeze him. "Keep a bit more quiet for me, baby, c'mon."

He lets go of your mouth and fucks you harder, now having to forge room for himself inside you. You bite right between his neck and his shoulder, trying to not scream again. Your hips rolling as your orgasm comes to an end.

As soon as you stop quivering under him he starts rolling circles around your clit, fast and tight. You gasp, your hips moving desperately, trying to get away from the overwhelming stimulation.

"Oh, Joel. Too much, fuck." You plead, but it only makes him fasten his movements, his hips pouding you relentlessly.

"You wanna behave like a whore you gotta take it like one, bunny. Liked teasing me, didn't you? Huh? Now you're gonna squeeze me real nice again, gonna make me cum for you."

"Joel." You moan, half screaming, digging your nails in his back, trying to focus on him, his weight, his warmth, his rough fingers on your clit.

"C'mon, baby. Gonna squeeze the cum out of my cock, aren't you? You feel so good, my peach." He pants on your hair, kissing and biting on your neck.

"You're gonna cum inside me?" You ask, your voice coming out more hopeful than you expected. Your ankles instinctively tangling behind his lower back.

He laughs softly on your neck, kissing you there and squeezing your hips. "You know I can't, baby. I fucking — grunts — can't." He pants, his voice frustrated and low. "Fucking wish I could." He whispers, barely leaving your pussy before thrusting hard back in.

His confession makes you moan, clenching around him, your orgasm so close you can almost feel it.

His hips lose rythme, and he takes your hand in his, putting it between you two. He lifts himself, hands besides each side of your head. He's loud. Panting, grunting and groaning while he pounds into you.

That's why you tease him. To see this animalistic and senseless, strong and big man pound you like his life depends on it. His cock rearranging your organs to please himself.

"Cum for me, baby. So fucking close, just need to feel you again." He pants, his forehead touching yours, his pace punishing and lovingly at the same time. Punishing you for teasing him and lovingly for you to remember he loves you more than anyone else ever could.

"Joel." You scream again, a shameless and vulnerable plead for him. For him to see how good he makes you feel, how much you love being his.

"There you go, baby. C'mon, feels so good squeezing me so nice, fucking — grunts — milking my cock, gonna cum so much for you, my baby. Can't be fucking inside you. No." He says, his face hovering above yours.

"I want it, Joel. Please. My mouth, I want you." You plead, still high from your orgasm.

"Take the dress off, baby, c'mon." He whispers and you eagerly do so, squeezing him inside you when you contort your upper body to remove it. He grunts from it, slowing his movements down for a second, one of his hands holding your waist.

"Please, Joel." You beg, scratching his shoulder blades and looking at him.

"So pretty begging for me like this." He says. "Too bad you don't deserve what you want, baby." He pulls out of you, pumping himself hard and fast above your belly, and you open your mouth, a beg for him to give you some of it.

"Don't be so fucking greedy, amor. You've had plenty of it". He says right before cumming all over your stomach and breasts with loud grunts and groans.

He loves seeing you covered in him, marking you as his.

He is, thankfully, kind enough to aim some of it at your face, and you end up drinking a few streaks.

He finishes and falls on the bed besides you, staring at the roof and trying to catch his breath as you do the same.

After a minute he gets up with a grunt and goes to the bathroom, coming back with a wet towel. He dresses his underwear and sits by the end of the bed, pulling you legs by your ankles. He spreads them and runs the cloth over your swollen folds, carefully cleaning them.

He presses a kiss on each of them, kissing your clit last, laughing when you jump from the overstimulation. He licks around it, looking into your eyes and smiling.

"You don't deserve it." He laughs, lightly slapping your pussy and climbing on top of you, pressing the mattress besides your head and hovering above you.

You lift yourself to kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his back and digging your nails deep into his skin. You let go of your own weight and he holds you both up, deepening the kiss, panting into your mouth, his beard burning your skin deliciously.

"You know I love you, don't you?" He asks, his voice low.

"You just showed me." You say with a soft laugh.

"No, amor. I mean it. You know it, don't you?" He sounds like he's about to cry.

You pull him down on the mattress with you, looking into his eyes. He wraps his arms tight underneath your body. "Of course I do, Joel. What do you mean?"

"Just keep seeing you with those boys. They're all so young. You could just have any of them." He says, his soft eyes glistening.

"But I don't want any of them. I want you, love you, only think about you." You coo, kissing his lips.

He turns you both around, and you lie on top of him, your head on the crook of his neck, inhaling his manly and woody smell.

"I love you so much." You whisper. It almost hurts how much you do. "I'm so lucky to have you, Joel." You squeeze him in your embrace, your own eyes threatening to water.

"Love you more. Luckiest, happiest man in this town with you by my side, baby." He responds, and you snuggle your face deeper on him, kissing his neck, indulging on his presence.

On how you'd never imagine leaving your man.

Hope you enjoyed it, need a jealous, possessive and soft Joel in my life to call me names and tell me how much he loves me 😫

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