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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]

Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.

CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)

Word count: 3246

This work on AO3

You’re such a sunshine, it hurts.

John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls.

His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents.

But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it.

When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation.

John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks.

But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment.

You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own.

God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice.

You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only.

— I can fold my own pants, love.

He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken.

— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…

— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry.

— Little minx.

— Me or Lady Lasswell?

John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine.

You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light.

God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya.

He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him.

Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons.

The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about.

You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea.

Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him.

He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you.

Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny.

He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness.

Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least.

— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price.

You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least.

You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move.

Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are.

His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker.

— Shite, love. Sorry.

His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one.

He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he?

— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second.

— Not a chance.

Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you.

You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate.

John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him.

— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way.

— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home?

He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around.

You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again.

— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…

Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite.

He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin.

Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper.

Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to.

— Help your captain, eh?

You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t.

He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him.

John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his.

— This is not very… appropriate, sir.

— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here.

You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little.

He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact.

Price moans.

— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy.

The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers.

— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this.

He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy.

God, what are you even thinking about?

You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you?

— We really shouldn’t be doing this.

— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir.

— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here.

He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly.

He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly.

— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…

Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are.

Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave.

— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this.

You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife.

#cod #yandere price #price x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #yandere cod #call of duty #cod imagine #cod fanfic

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yanderenightmare · 7 months

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Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, dubcon, f!reader, asshole Hero Deku

Just thinking about Deku’s fangirl.

How lucky you felt when he took you home after you’d asked for his autograph in a bar – thinking about the expectations you had, how many times you’d imagined Hero Deku singing sweet praises in your ear as he made sweet love to you oh-so-softly – and thinking about how hard you choked on your spit when you understood just how far away those fantasies were from the truth as he fucks you like you’re shooting a hardcore porn-video.

His hand presses down hard on your face, mushing your head halfway into the white hotel pillow while his other hand fists the band of your skirt to keep you up in a pretty slope as he pounds your puffy cunt only in harsh slaps – hips clapping your ass as he uses your skirt to pull you back to meet the sharp thrusts as though you’re but a means to an end to make him cum.

Oh, but you’d been Deku’s number-one fan for years, and you’d been so giddy and excited as he’d paid for the hotel in the reception, feeling so lucky and honored, unable to fathom how any of it was even happening. Biting your lip with shy eyes blinking sheepishly, thinking of how sweet and gentle he would be in bed – so, so, so surprised when he had you pushed flat against the elevator wall with two of his fingers hooked on your tongue to make you yelp out a moan while his other hand found your cunt and squeezed the mound as though staking a claim.

You don’t really enjoy it when it’s rough – it scares you, to say the least – but this is the number-one hero, and you’re not so confident to protest when you feel you should be grateful that he’s at all touching you – even though it feels like he’s running your stomach through.

Looking over your shoulder, you can spot tattoos you’ve never seen on screen, the tribal kind that you’d expect to see only on gang members and otherwise other types of bad guys you’d not want touching you at all. He’s also wearing chains, the slim silver kind douchebags wear and compare. He’s even got fat rings on his fingers, digging into your skin where he pressures down on your face with his thumb hooked in your cheek to keep you singing mewls for him while he swings into you from behind harder and harder each time – grinning when watching how you grip the sheets in whitened knuckles as your whole body jumps on every impact.

He tips you over after a while, but missionary had never felt so threatening as he immediately locks your throat in a fist – his lips ghosting your parted ones with grunts and hot air, green eyes salaciously enjoying the show of you gasping for breath as he fucks the moans right out of you in harsh and deep strokes hitting you in new and tender places – forcing your toes to curl in the air, thighs hiked on his hips.

His other hand holds the top of your head, blunt nails push smilies into your scalp – and it all just smothers you enough to make you cry as his lips and teeth graze your cheek with a leer. “I like my sluts like this- submissive. Taking it like happy little whores in love with getting dick in their wet cunt.”

It’s not the type of sweet talk you wanted, but still, his low and gravely grunting voice forms a fist in your belly and makes you tighten on the fat shaft that has you speared. He groans at the tightness, biting your cheek as his hips stutter, shooting his load inside you without warning.

You’re in shock. Feeling the sweat between your bodies and the warmth of it inside you. You can only stare blankly up at the hotel ceiling fan and halfway wonder why you’d not thought better of it when he’d booked you into such a cheap and sleazy place.

You hear the popping of the Sharpie, but it doesn’t register. Nor does how he pushes the felt tip of it down in the softness of your tit. He scribbles something – cap held between his lips and teeth as he asks, “Wha’ was’h your name again?”

You mumble it dumbly without asking yourself why as he writes the letters on your skin. You don’t flinch when he pulls his phone from the nightstand and takes a picture with the flash on.

He doesn’t stay for long.

Actually, he doesn't stay at all. He doesn’t even shower before pulling his pants on and leaving with his shirt draped over his shoulder.

You look in the mirror after willing yourself to get up.

Your chest reads Deku, number 47, then your name.

tip-jar: Kofi

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usagikookiejams · 4 months

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AFTERMATH OF THE BREAKUP

Haitani Ran, Ryuguji Ken (Draken), Hanemiya Kazutora, Haruchiyo Sanzu

Warning: angst no comfort, cheating, NOT PROOFREAD, cursing, mentioned about abusive relationship, drug usage, harsh words

Haitani Ran

It has been 3 months since your relationship with Ran ended in a bad term. Deciding to move from Roppongi to Okinawa to avoid meeting up with him again.

Unbeknownst to you, a guy was following behind while you're doing grocery shopping. After failed attempts to reach the product in the higher rack, suddenly a guy was helping you out.

"Thank you so much-," you were left silent after seeing that the guy was actually your ex; Ran. He looks handsome as always. But, you could see the obvious eyebag.

"How you doing?," he smiled, trying to start a conversation with you but, you just ignored him and pushed your cart forward.

He didn't stop pestering you, until you has had enough and slapped his face. "Don't you feel ashamed? Showing your face after you cheated on me with that 'work-wife' of yours?!," you glared at him.

He explained that he was drunk at that time. However, he paused his words after seeing the disgusted look in your face.

"I couldn't bear looking at you. It reminds me how stupid I am to trust you. Hah, my friends were right about you; you indeed couldn't keep your dick in your pants," you smirked and walked away.

Ran felt like his world started to collapse. Witnessing your hostile behaviour towards him has proven how you don't wanna get back with him no matter what.

Ryuguji Ken (Draken)

You and Draken started dating after 3 years of Emma's death. Motivating him daily has led to him starting to open his heart to you.

But things weren't always nice and easy. It indeed was very hard for someone to move on from his past lover.

That's why, after only about 2 years of dating, you decided to broke things off with Draken after you has had enough of him comparing you with Emma.

Emma this, Emma that; you were tired of hearing his complaints.

Though he looked like he didn't care back then, but why is he always reaching out to you now?

He looks so desperate trying to win you back. Showing his effort by buying you flowers every week, which ended up disposed in the dustbin at your office.

Today remains the same routine of his. But you decided to give him your piece of mind once you saw him walking towards the receptionist counter.

You dragged him outside the building where your co-workers couldn't see you. "Can you stop all this nonsense?," you sighed.

"But baby-," he couldn't finish his words when you suddenly took the flowers and placed it on his motorbike.

"I am not your baby, and I don't need your flowers. Why not giving them to Emma, considering she may need them more to decorate her grave?," you couldn't help but saying deep and harsh words.

There, Draken was left heartbroken. He realized how all of his action of comparing you and Emma has led to you hating both of them.

Oh lord, how he wish you would care for him one more time.

Hanemiya Kazutora

Being in a relationship with Kazutora was challenging, he always scold you for things that are even miniscule; blaming you for it. Thus, you decided it was best to separate with him, as he tend to get physical with you.

Visiting the hospital for how many times now, that you don't even remember; getting psychology treatment to treat your mental health from past abusive relationship.

You were busy listening to music that you didn't notice that you has bumped into someone. The person sighed in annoyance, that is, when you heard your name being called in shocked tone, "Y/N?."

You frozed in place, looking up at the person. Oh, it's Kazutora. You got up and said sorry as quickly as possible before getting away.

You felt your hand being pulled, and you couldn't help but flinch. "Hey, hey sweetheart, it's okay. I won't hurt you." You still your position, didn't dare to look at the man who had inflicted pain upon you before.

Kazutora felt a pang of hurt in his heart, looking at how you're terrified of him. He felt tears running down his cheeks, profusely saying sorry while saying he missed you so much and how his mental health is declining.

You looked at him dead in the eyes. Though feeling scared but you tried to stood your ground. "Yeah? And what about me? What about all the things that you said, and pain that you inflicted on me before huh? Answer me Hanemiya," you said in heavy tone.

Kazutora didn't like how you're saying his first name. It was always Kazu or baby; anything but Hanemiya. Nevertheless, he tried to reason with you how he never intended to do those things, saying that he wasn't in the right state of mind.

You scoffed and warned him how if he still loves you, he should just leave you alone. Kazutora was about to say something but you dismissed him, and just walk forward leaving your past behind.

After that encounter, Kazutora still trying to reach out to you by visiting you at home or workplace. That is until one day, he was forced to stop his action once knowing that you has moved to another country with no one knowing your whereabouts.

Haruchiyo Sanzu

Dating Sanzu was never a boring experience. He's wild and loves to party, which at last causing you to not being able to keep up with his behavior.

Lucky for you, the break up was easy as Sanzu too thinks that you're too boring, and always acting like a 'nagging bitch'. Thus, deciding to also let you go.

Despite the break up only took place less than a month ago, you're suprisingly doing great as you are now start to prioritize yourself. Spending time to learn new hobby; that is photography.

Currently you're in the park, capturing panoramas and birds that flew over the horizon. Click! You went to check the picture but noticed a familiar pink hair in the photo.

The pink-haired-person looked over his shoulder as he heard the clicking sound. He couldn't believe his eyes when seeing you, thus started to run towards you, "Y/N!."

"Oh shoot..," you whispered to yourself and started walking faster. Albeit he was fast enough to grab your shoulder. "Baby, how you been? I wasn't able to contact you for a month. Did you change your contact number?," the person said.

"So what if I did, Sanzu?," you put on confident look. "It's not like we're going to contact each other anymore, is it?," you continued.

"But-," Sanzu was about to speak but you just shook your head. "I wish to never meet you again. Now that I look back, I realized how dumb I am to love some maniac like you. You didn't even consider my feelings, always gaslighting me and even calling me names. So don't be suprised when I decided to move on from you," you scoffed and walked away without looking back.

At that moment, Sanzu knew he fucked up real bad by messing up the relationship you guys had before.

Later on, he started to indulge himself in more drugs, as it's the only way he could be free from the hurting feelings.

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yourlocaltreesimp · 7 months

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Hi I'm a big fan and I just wanted to let you know I love your yandere headcannons I like the way you write them, I hope you don't mind me requesting for yandere headcannons of koridai, courage and platonic!wind. If you accept I can't wait to see them. (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Y’all Courage and Koridai simps are on crack. I’m here for it tho. Not doing wind in this part as i’m still planning where he’ll be

Yan!Chain headcannons

Tw: Yandarism and it’s accompanies, Courage and Koridai, I traumatised them, oops, child abuse, SH, baby trapping.

Courage

His version of the guide was different- far more than the rest. You were there. He saw your reflections in the mirrors and out of the corners of his eye, he heard whispers of your voice, you were there since as long as he could remember. He used to think you where an imaginary friend, as he didn’t have many actual friends. It made sense. But you never went away. No matter how much medications he took or lashes he’d taken, you were there.

It was when he learned of who he was and what purpose he held that he learned what you were. And it didn’t take him long to start going off the edge.

His very own guide- someone to hold and keep all to himself. Someone no one else could see. Someone no one could steal. Someone that would finally stay.

When he meets with the chain he’s still got that entitlement.

This reflects in his love languages. Physical touch and Quality time, being as close to you as often as possible. You were his reward, his support, his gift to be put through what he was put through. He deserves you.

He’ll hurt himself for your attention. Im talking full out stab wounds if that’s what it takes for you to kiss it better.

Fiercely loyal. Glares down anyone that flirts with him and would even flat out insult them when you were still just a spirit in his minds eye. Now you’re real however? He can and will compare people to you.

Has a hand on you at all times. He doesn’t care if he’s getting glared daggers, he’s throwing his arm around your waist and savouring the way you flush.

On that note, i’m sorry if you’re easily flustered. Like- truly. This man is a f l i r t. He’ll learn what makes you tick and abuse the living hell out of it. Even if it’s whispering the filthiest things into your ear, he’ll do it if it gets you blushing.

He’d kidnap you. 100 %. Married and with a kid by your side so you have to stay and so everyone knows you’re his. A wife on his arm and an heir to his title, even if they needed a little… assistance to realise that’s what they wanted.

Fav nicknames for you: Dear, Babe, Babes, Sugar, Honey, Loves, starlight

Koridai

It took him a while to realise you were his old guide, purely off of the fact he was so deep into believing he hallucinated you.

But prying him off of you when he comes to is what’s more difficult.

Again with physical touch, but he has a sweet spot for words of affirmation and gift giving. (you’re really racking up sugar daddies)

Golden retriever energy to the nines. Waiting at your hand and foot, back and call in case you might need him. You did so much for him, he might as well pay you back. He’ll cater to whatever you want of him. You want him to jump, he’ll ask how high. You want him to smile he’s beaming. You want jewellery, he’ll mine the gems himself. You want him to change his clothing, he’ll let you pick out a whole new wardrobe. You want a husband, he’ll hire the officiant. You want a man dead, all he needs is a name.

Two faced as Sky and Wars. Absolute sweetheart to your face, plays dumb to be unassuming, slips passed the squabbling of the chain and next thing they know he’s gone and you’re in his universe.

Another kidnapper.

Fun???

Either way you’re leaving with him or he’s leaving with you. He’d gotten himself so hurt while you left him unattended for 5 minutes to get water, and you expect him to live without you? After how he was forced to leave you behind? After he dug you a grave?

He can cry on command, and you’re none the wiser. You’d hold him as he sobbed and sniffled as the others watched. You’d defend him and his place, and off of the lies stories he told you, it’s a wonder you saw his emotions at all.

Nicknames: Whatever makes you the most embarrassed or flustered

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #link x reader #link x you #yandere linked universe x reader #x reader #yandere link x reader #lu courage #lu koridai #firreplies #fir’s library

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mikodrawnnarratives · 5 months

Text

TW IMPLIED CHARACTER DEATH

TW BLOOD

(Just like last time, it isn't really graphic but I'm tagging just so you know)

@naffeclipse

Part 1 | This is Part Two | Part Three | Extra

It. Probably won't need a part 4

I'm doing this all on one cps file so I sure hope so kjlfdkfljs

i'm at like- 750+ layers i'm so sorry my file

...there might be a part 4 but it'll be small sketches and aftermaths

Once again, long post under the cut:

I am not the only traveler, who has not repaid his debt.

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

- The night we met by Lord Hurdon

Alright, I didn't make too much of an effort to hide it but how many of you guessed it was gregory and how many of you didn't see it coming?

Gee I wonder who Gregory's companions are

Okay if you don't have a nugget of who these companions are then my rambling below makes it a little more obvious

Anyway, this little comic of self indulgence to mend my broken heart says "YO what if Gregory and other characters saved Vanessa like they did in canon"

It certainly would NOT be easy for Vanessa once she wakes up to that realization. But there are factors that make it a little bit easier for Vanessa to cope compared to other children.

Since Gregory and others proved they could fight and free her as Vanny, it gives her mind a little reassurance that they aren't completely helpless.

Plus, I like the idea of the GGY story (Dr Rabbit) existing as this au's equivalent of the same experience, that would mean Gregory has had his own bad experiences with Glitchtrap and so it wouldn't be like some random kid going against a threat he was unfamiliar with

She still distances herself a lot earlier on and the more time passes, the older Gregory gets, the less he looks and sounds like a kid.

Those make it much easier for Vanessa to stand being around them as time goes by. Earlier on, she only really interacted when absolutely necessary. But she did grow a small soft spot for them.

She remained pretty closed off about herself over the years and never delved too deep about her past. Ness left frequently for her own hunting jobs and at one point Gregory asked where she went. Somethings made it seem like these hunts weren't just random and different

He didn't get an answer of course. But later that day, Vanessa told him about Y/n. In vague terms. This is the most information he ever gets about Vanessa's past.

So Gregory's got no idea who to expect to see showing up to the gravestone ltr on and is just like

Gregory: cool, ur mysterious enough for it to be believable ur related to my mysterious older sister/mentor figure Wanna hear a story

Y/n: ...yes.

Forgive him his brain is ever so foggy from grief and no slep

Anyway, Y/n picked a day to visit Vanessa when they knew they were stable enough not to lash out and attack any humans that may happen to also be visiting the graves. They had eaten pretty recently but not so recent that they were vulnerable.

It's pretty early in the morning where it is still dark and the rain provides some more protection.

If you couldn't tell before, many MANY years have passed since Y/n has been human. Think somewhere between 20-30 years. And while, they still hate who they are now and aren't mentally okay, they've gotten a semi-solid understanding of their limits and what they can and cannot tolerate and when.

And, even though they are nervous, they can manage to have this conversation with Gregory for now.

Why are they talking to Gregory so willingly? despite the risks?

well

the next part will explain that

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booktomoviebrawl · 4 months

Text

We are not judging how bad the movie is, we are judging which adapted the book the worst. There are good movies that are bad adaptions.

Propaganda below the cut (spoilers may apply)

Persuasion:

They massacred my girl!! That is not Anne Elliot!! The whole point is that she's beaten down and thinks she's missed her chance at happiness and is bullied by her family, not making mean and snarky nods to the camera :( They completely missed the whole point of the dynamic and it's SICKENING! They also cut Mrs Smith who is arguably one of the most important characters as she highlights Anne's lack of focus on title and rank and her family's comparative obsession with it + it's only through her that Anne learns about Mr Elliot's true nasty nature. Also they cut the 'I am half agony, half hope' line from Wentworth's letter at the end so what's even the POINT of adapting it if you don't have that!! Oh my god!! My poor favourite Austen novel :( (I do want to make it very very clear that my issues with the movie come from the writing and adaptation and not in any way from the race blind casting. The casting is superb and I'm genuinely so disappointed that they got such a bad adaptation bc so many of the cast are literally perfect)

Where do I even start? They tried to 'modernize' both the protagonist and the love story and managed to take out everything that made it good in the first place. Anne Elliot in the novel is quiet and good and helpful, full of regret. In the movie, she constantly turns to the audience to mock everyone around her, feeling so much better than everyone, to the point where nobody understands why Captain Wentworth would still be in love with her, or have fallen in love with her in the first place. Eight years before the plot starts, she broker her engagement to him because she was persuaded by a family friend that it was a bad idea. No way would movie!Anne have let herself be persuaded. They just tried to do a Fleabag/Emma type of thing without understanding what made either the novel or those two things work and thereby ruined it completely

Whoever made this didn't understand the point of the novel at all. They completely screwed up the character of Anne Elliot (the protagonist), which in turn screws the rest of the movie, as the original story only works because Anne is the way she is. Also, it's a period piece but the characters are talking in modern slang the entire time. And not in a clever way but in a very cringey one. If Jane Austen knew, she'd probably turn in her grave, and rightfully so.

Maximum Ride:

The storyline makes absolutely no sense, and the movie is nothing like the book. You could've given the movie an entirely different name and and keep the plot I wouldn't bat an eye

the movie's just bad mate

Horrendous low budget netflix movie with effects so bad they make me feel physically ill and acting so wooden the cast is in danger of being attacked by lumberjacks. The story already wasn't the best and the film somehow made it worst. I came in with nostalgia for my dear kids with bird wings and left never to be the same again.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children:

While Miss Peregrine was one of my favorite books as a kid and incredibly unique in the way the story is written (The author basically took a box of weird antique photographs and created an underlying story behind a handful of them) the movie is incredibly boring. Like seriously I can't remember a single goddamn thing about the movie besides my extreme disappointment with it after leaving the theatres. It's probably because the original is a trilogy but they didn't want to make it a trilogy for the movie so they just scrapped the ending of the first book and rewrote a shitty climax where they threw snowballs at the nightmare child eating creatures or something. I remember THAT scene perfectly because it was so, so dumb. It was so stupid oh my God- ALSO, thank God I have a copy of the book from before the film came out because new copies don't have one of the photographs that the actual book uses as a base anymore and instead have the shitty movie poster! We truly do live in a society.

Changed way too much so it doesn't feel like the same thing. The main characters are these kids with different abilities (called peculiarities) and the movie switches around their powers and changes almost everyone's age. Emma and Olive switch powers so that Emma now floats (they also added that she can kind of control air to some extent) when she's supposed to have fire powers to match her fiery personality. Olive can make fire now and she's also aged up from an eight year old to a teenager and put her in this weird romance with Enoch. Enoch is also aged up from a grumpy thirteen year old to around the same age as Olive. Bronwyn, one of the older kids in the book and sort of a motherly figure to the younger kids, is now one of the youngest kids. Hugh and Fiona are aged down and basically have no interaction at all in the movie, even when their book counterparts had such a good relationship. The only one they didn't really change was Horace and Jacob. They also added these gorgon twins that do like two things. The antagonist in the movie is Mr. Barron who honestly isn't super memorable and isn't in the books whatsoever. The ending of the movie is weird too because they manage to turn back time somehow so Jacob's grandfather isn't dead and then he hops through loops so he can be with Emma and the other peculiars. I guess the problem of wights and hollowgasts is magically eliminated and we do not have to deal with the consequences. It took six books to fix everything. I appreciate that the movie engaged me enough to read the series but once I did, I could not believe they did my kids that dirty.

Yikes where to start. The 3 girl characters are all mixed up. There are 2 teens, one who's super strong and has a brother (I'll get back to him) and one who controls fire and is the love interest named Emma. The third girl is a child called Olive who floats. She's lighter than air.

In the movie, strong girl is the child, olive is now the fire girl and is for some reason super introverted, and Emma the love interest floats and gets given a super breath??? Power?? Like she rises a sunken ship by blowing in and keeps a man blown against a wall by blowing air at him. He makes a remark that she'll run out of breath eventually, which happens here because plot convenience, but not when she's blowing in the sunken ship.

The enemies in the book are terrifying Hollows. Creatures who have lost themselves and devour souls of those with powers... The movie decides they eat eyes now. And turn human again. And get busted up in a fair for the final act of the movie. Ugh.

The movie also decides randomly that time travelling through the loops is a thing; a loop being a pocket of time that replays the same day over and over. But apparently this means Main Character can travel back in time and stop his grandfather dying??? What?? His grandfathers death is the whole start of the movie and motivation for the character.

The movie undermines many of things that made the book amazing and even decides it's not a trilogy anymore!! Fuck the other 2 books, right?!

Tldr; it is terribly hollywood-ised and t tim Burton ruined a franchise by trying too hard to make it quirky and fun when the books already had a brilliant sombre and interesting tone to them.

#tournament poll #persuasion 2022 #persuasion #maximum ride #miss peregrines home for peculiar children

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moongazeonastarfillednight · 19 days

Text

The Terror: When, How, Where... (PART 1)

See part 2 for the end of my sanity (ep 6 through 9. Wasn't enough characters left on the post for ep 10)

See part 3 (and episode 10)

As I am writing the fic, I was getting frustrated at trying to figure out the timeline of the expedition. More specifically, what happens after they dropped the Victory Point Note.

Therefore, in order to organize my ideas, and also because it might be of interests to some of you, I will document here what I got.

Episode 1 through 5 for now.

Methodology

If we agree that the showrunners (and Dan Simmons to an extent) made their research, we should be able to match some of the event of the story with notable point of interests where artefacts and/or remains were found over the numerous searches made to ascertain the fate of the Franklin Expedition

I also tried to take note of all indications of time passing so that I might document their speed travel and the dates when they are not mentioned.

... And the death count. (Departing Beechey Island with 24 officers and 102 men)

Finally, I also used the following website to keep track of sunrises and sunsets: https://www.timeanddate.com/

1927 Admiralty Map

I may be an amateur in this kind of research but I find myself frustrated that the most complete map I've been able to find showing all that was found between 1850 and 1926 is shown on this map from 1927

To be noted, we now know that the Skeleton of H. Peglar was more probably W. Gibson or T. Armitage

The Skeleton of Lt. Le Vesconte has also been reevaluated and is now believed to be that of Harry Goodsir ( :( )

Also, as it happens, if we compare to 2024 maps, we can say that this is not the actual shape of KWI (close enough!).

Therefore, for my own sanity, I recreated with modern maps. Is it accurate? Well, I wouldn't publish it but I think it gives a good enough view of where they went and where they were going:

Where the Ships had drifted to in June 1847 (According to G. Gore's coordinates left on the Victory point note)

Where the Ships had drifted with the Pack by April 1848 (Victory Point Note)

Victory Point

McClintock's Boat Place (proposed to be same location as NgLJ-1)

Camp with Many skeletons

From D. Simmons' The Terror - The Hospital Camp

Peglar Skeleton

Starvation Cove

A Bunch of cairns in the area

Harry Goodsir

Gjoa Haven (Netsilik Settlement)

Fort Resolution (Dear God... look at how far they wanted to walk/Canoe/make portage...)

Matching the Show

Episode 1 - Go for Broke

Location 1 - David Young's grave (71.22, -96.60)

Date: September 5th 1846

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 14h 57 min

Twilight - 9h 03 min

Sunset: 7:51 PM - Sunrise: 4:55 AM

David Young was buried 7 days before they were beset in the ice (see point 3 on the map below).

During the dinner in which we were regaled by the tale of Mr. Fitzjames' Holes, Franklin discuss that they were approaching a bigger channel, which is now know as the McClintock Channel (see point 1 on the map below), meaning that at the time, they were still in the Franklin Strait.

On the day after his death, Franklin discuss their next course and assure that they must be 'nearly in sight of KW Land'. Crozier suggests it might take them weeks to actually make it to KWI. This would confirm what was infer above.

As we can see the two ships fitting in a cozy little cove while the grave is being dug, I would like to propose Point 4 on the map below as Ficitonal David Young's final resting place, on Tasmania Islands

Location 2 - Ships September 1846 (70.25, -98.00)

Date: September 12th 1846

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 13h 45 min

Twilight - 10h 15 min

Sunset: 7:19 PM - Sunrise: 5:34 AM

Well, for this one, we need to use the extrapolation provided by the 1927's Admiralty map by tracing the line from where the ships were known to be in 1847 and 1848 (Point 5 and 6). (see point 3)

For Future Reference:

Travel Time between Loc 1 and Loc 2 - 7 days

Distance between Loc 1 and Loc 2 :70 NM / 80 Miles / 130 km

Average Travel Speed - 11.4 miles a day

Travel Condition - Ice breaking

DEATH COUNT: 2 + 3 (Total 5)

24 Officers and 100 Men remaining

Episode 2 - Gore

Location 3 - The Ships in 1847 (70.15, -98.30)

Date: May 24th 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Coordinates and Date From the Victory Point Note (see Point 1)

Location 4 - The Cairn (69.66, -98.27)

Date: May 28th 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

From the ships, Gore lead his party to James Clark Ross' Cairn.

Now, in the Show, they found JCR's Cairn without an issue. In reality, while Gore had found the Cairn just fine, Crozier and Fitzjames did not. One of the reason for it is that JCR had, apparently, made a miscalculation in reporting where he had erected the Cairn by several miles. Honestly, the way that Fitzjames had written the words was so confusing, I appreciate that the show made the whole thing so much simpler, ahah. So let's say that it matches what we know now as Victory Point. Easy Peasy! (see Point 2)

To be Noted, we know the dates of departure from ships and arrival at cairn from the Victory Point Note.

Location 5 - The Ice Camp (69.665, -98.32)

Date: May 28th 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

The Camp was raised just beyond the ice ridge that blocked the way form the shore and the Cairn was only a mile or so away. (see Point 3... hidden between point 2)

Of Note: That hail storm's cloud coverage was intense to say the least... So dark :')

Back to Loc 3 (70.15, -98.30)

Date: June 2nd 1847

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Wednesday is a good day to drink with the Captain :D which makes it the Wednesday following May 28th 1847! So it's June 2nd!

For Future Reference:

Loc 2 to Loc 3

Travel time - 8 months, 12 days or 254 days

Travel Distance: 8.6 NM / 10 miles / 16 km

Average Travel Speed - 0.04 miles a day

Travel Condition - Pack drifting

Loc 3 to Loc 4/5

Travel time - 5 days

Travel Distance: 29 NM / 33.5 miles / 54 km

Average Travel Speed - 6.7 miles a day

Travel Condition - 6 Men hauling Sledge on Ice

Loc 4/5 Back to Loc 3

Travel time - 4 days

Travel Distance: 29 NM / 33.5 miles / 54 km

Average Travel Speed - 8.4 miles a day

Travel Condition - 6 Men hauling ASS and Sledge on Ice

DEATH COUNT: 1 (Total: 6)

23 Officers and 100 Men remaining

Episode 3 - The Ladder

This one is fun because, well... they're not moving! I could point out where Silna ends up but it looks like she remain close enough to the ships that it doesn't matter all that much. So, let's just make note of the date and events:

Location 3 - Ships in June 1847 (70.15, -98.30)

For the duration of the episode:

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h min

Twilight - None

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Date: between June 2nd and June 10th 1847

- Silna makes her igloo a few miles away from the Ships

Date: June 11th 1847

- Franklin Dies

- Crozier drafts his resignation letter

Date: June 12th 1847

- Franklin's leg is buried :')

- Lieutenant Fairholme is sent to KWI.

DEATH COUNT: 2 (Total: 8)

22 Officers and 99 Men remaining

Episode 4 - Punished, As a Boy

Another fun bottle Episode!

Location 3 - Ships in same approx position as June 1847 (70.15, -98.30)

Date: November 23rd 1847

Nighttime - 12h 35 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 11h 25min

Sunset: 11:47 am - Sunrise: 10:51 am

- William Strong's birthday :)

- We know because it's the last sunrise of the year!

- Evans and Strong die :(

They searched for a long time if it was just before 4 pm when they got the alarm and then they came back in time for last sunrise at 11 am...

Date: November 24th 1847 to November 25th 1847

Nighttime - 12h 35 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 11h 25min

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

- Hickey has a communion with Tuunbaq (supposedly next day or so)

- Then Hickey gets evily booped.

DEATH COUNT: 2 + Hickey's postern (Total: 10)

22 Officers and 97 Men remaining

Episode 5 - First Shot the Winner, Lads

More fun in a bottle. These boys are not going far...

Honestly, for this one, the trouble was figuring out how much time had passed. For one, we know it's not yet Christmas because Christmas is, in fact, mentioned in Episode 6 (And Lady Jane's Christmas Pudding, hear hear) as part of the meeting between the officer and there was not yet a cooperation between the Terror Lts and Fitzjames for counting the supplies.

ALSO! That scene where Mr. Wentzell got killed dead over his nail... well, it gave me the feeling that either the review of the crew is not daily or that they've been on Erebus for a short time because 1) Fitzjames doesn't know their names and 2) He has to repeat the instructions about cleanliness... Perhaps they sent the Terrors in waves and not all 50 of them at once.

Other details to be mentionned:

Hickey is not recovered yet and Goodsir suspects he might reopen his wounds from working.

Goodsir has had time to be quite good at speaking inuktitut. Now, he could have had a continuous learning experience from Dr. McDonald since June 47 and before but considering that Dr. McDonald is stationed in Terror and Goodsir in Erebus, I suspect they did not have much time to have a class together...

Finally. Crozier suggests that he would be 2, perhaps, perhaps more... sick from sobering up. He got up just in time for First sunrise (Jan 17th).

So! We can infer that the episode might have spanned over 1 or 2 days (what's with the movement between the ships and the whole Rat Wedding).

My best guess is that the dates for this whole episode would be:

Date: December 14th 1847 to December 18th 1847

Nighttime - 13h 32 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 11h 28min

Sunset: N/A - Sunrise: N/A

Why December 14th? Because it would be Edward Little's Birthday and I feel like it is appropriate for his character to have his boss send him back to the killing cold for more booze :') (December 16th to December 20th seems more likely but...)

This would give Crozier a full month to recover from sobering up and 22 days for Goodsir to learn inuktitut (impressive!), for Hickey backside to feel better and for Fitzjames to NOT learn the name of his new Terrors.

DEATH COUNT: 3 + Blanky's leg (Total: 13)

22 Officers and 94 Men remaining

That's it for now. I'll do the last 5 episodes soonish...

Conclusion to the first sets of episode: Sunsets and Sunrises were whacky in June 1847 but, so far, distance and travel times make good sense. If the accuracy holds up until episode 10, we might be able to have a pretty good idea of what, when and where everything happened in episodes 6 through 10.

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Reference #The Terror Timeline #19th century dead sailors #At least now it's written somewhere that is not 120301923 word files...#Might need later editing #Super duper long post

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plantsjustwannahavefun · 6 months

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As someone who has kind of convinced themselves Izzy is gonna die at the end of S2, could you share your reasons why you think he won't? I'm sure a lot of us who think he's doomed could use some ideas as to otherwise. And who do you think is being buried in that grave scene in the Behind the scenes video? I'd love to hear your thoughts!!!

Hey, first of all, this is the first ask I’ve ever got, so thanks ☺️

Okay, so, there’s been so many posts recently with much more elaborate and better-argued takes than mine, and I can’t really take credit for anything I’m going to say here because none of these thoughts are original, really… but anyway.

I was surprised how quickly and strongly people seemed to have latched onto the “Izzy’s gonna die” train based on, as far as I'm concerned, nothing more than a couple of vague BTS bits and a general sense of foreboding caused by previous experience with stories like these.

First of all, the BTS pictures and videos. Namely the bit where Izzy seems to be lying down and the one with the grave. It’s a massive stretch at best. I think Izzy’s likely to get injured at some point, but this could literally be anything, we can’t even see what’s going on. This could be a fuckery. At one point Ed is holding out his hand stained with blood, but we don’t even know whose blood it is. Same for the grave. Izzy isn’t the only crew member missing from the ring of people standing around it. We know there’s going to be a big battle in E08, so it's not surprising someone would die, but there’s simply no proof and not at all likely it would be Izzy.

Also, think about it. Izzy’s a sailor. Sailors typically get burried at sea. The only other place I could imagine him wanting to be buried at is next to his family in England, but that might just not be feasible, so he’d most likely get burried at sea. The way I see it, he’d much rather rest on the ocean floor than some random beach in the Republic of Pirates, a place he claimed to hate in S01.

Another thing: the creators of the show know how rabid this fanbase is. They knew we were going to painstakingly pick apart and overanalyse every single frame of every morsel of promotional content we could get our hands on. So far they’ve gone to great lengths to avoid major spoilers. They even changed Ed’s line in the trailer where he said “and, more importantly, no more Izzy” (replaced it with “no more Stede”) in order not to reveal the plotline of Ed shooting Izzy, even though that line was pretty vague and could have been up to interpretation. So how likely is it that they would reveal a major character’s death in several frames of BTS material? Just not very likely at all, I’d say.

Then I’ve seen a few people argue that the writers want to get rid of Con because doing the CGI for the unicorn leg is too expensive and inconvenient. I’m calling bullshit on that one too. Admittedly, I don’t know much about CGI, but Con literally just has to wear a green sock over his boot or something like that, and it’s not that hard to frame it in a way that makes his leg less visible. So far we’ve had a lot of shots with him just sitting there, or where he was filmed from the waist up. I imagine it wasn’t easy for Con to mimic moving like he was missing a leg, but he nailed it perfectly, and he seemed to have an easier time walking around in episodes 6 and 7 compared to ep 5, so he won’t have to keep up the severe limping to the same extent. At this point Izzy is the third major character after Stede an Ed. There’s no way they’d get rid of him just because of a minor cinematographic inconvenience like that.

And then there’s the fact that nobody actually dies in this show except for the villains. David Jenkins took the “bury your gays” trope and turned it into “make your gays unkillable”. This is literally the show that gave us recreational gut stabbing. There’s only a couple of exceptions, but they were all very minor characters or, well, a bird… I really liked Ivan, but he was easily the least important character out of all the crew members, and probably the only reason his death was offscreen was because the actor quit after S01. There’s no indication that Con wants to quit, it’s obvious he’s having the time of his life with this role, so it’s very unlikely he would sacrifice it for some other project.

What OFMD does love, on the other hand, is characters appearing to die, only to end up surviving against all odds. That’s, like, its signature trait by now. None of us really believed Lucius was going to die, even though logically it was extremely unlikely he wouldn't just drown immediately. They didn’t even bother to explain it properly, that’s how little this show cares for realism. And we love that about it. Izzy himself has already had not one, not two, but THREE instances like that: the dream sequence scene, getting shot in the leg, then surviving his suicide attempt. If he happened to actually die for real now, that would just be bad storytelling.

Speaking of storytelling… That’s really the main reason I don’t believe Izzy’s going to die. I know a lot of people are hung up on the whole “his narrative arc is complete and he has served his purpose as a character” thing, and in any other show that might be true, but not this one. OFMD isn’t just a show, it’s a love letter to the queer community. Izzy is now a representation of a queer person discovering himself and being accepted into the found family. He figuratively embodies the spirit of the Revenge. The physical unicorn figurine was destroyed, but the crew managed to use something “broken” and give it a new life. If the show did this only to kill Izzy off right afterwards, that would feel like a slap in the face. It wouldn't complete his character arc, it would undo it. It would be way worse than another show killing off some character that simply happened to be gay. It would feel like killing a character off specifically because they finally found some happiness in being gay, right after reaching the peak of their personal development as a queer character. It would feel deliberately mean rather than merely thoughtless.

And it would make the very first scene of S2 kind of meaningless, too. That dream sequence specifically showed us what was not going to happen. Izzy wasn’t going to stand between Stede and Ed anymore. Izzy and Stede weren’t going to be enemies anymore. Ed wasn’t going to melt into Stede’s arms and immediately forget all that’s happened. And Izzy isn’t going to die. Simple as that.

#oh boy I've done it again haven't I #wrote a sloppy meta commentary novel #full disclosure this is roughly 80% my true objective unbiased opinion and 20% industrial strength cope #but we'll see #this rambly baby is gonna age like like fine whisky #you mark my words #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers

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ashintheairlikesnow · 9 months

Text

The Heretic's Confession, Chapter One

CW: Captivity whump, some... implications... references to branding. This is just me getting a feel for the idea and character, though, really.

The robes he once kept pristine are caked in dried mud around the hem. Grigory frowns as he inspects them, rubbing along the seam. It flakes away, leaving imprints of itself behind.

Maudlin, certainly, but it feels like the stain of their sins painting his soul.

Maybe suffering can give even a man of the Goddess the sentiment of a poet. His lip curls in disgust at the very thought.

Please, please speak to me, Dromada. Tell your priest what he must do to escape this nightmare.

She is, and has always been, silent to his pleas for Her assistance.

The Goddess the people worship may be a paragon of compassion and forgiveness, her sculptures solemn and grave with hands outstretched to embrace even the lowest-born of Her children, but Grigori is beginning to suspect the holy men have got it wrong.

She isn't gracefully wise. She does not reach Her hand out to hold Her children. No, as each day passes without Her so much as whispering a reassurance, he begins to feel She is th goddess of laughter, and he is Her current favorite joke.

A knock at the door to his room - his cell, really, but of course they all like to pride themselves on keeping him in high style in his gilded cage - has him looking up, a little startled. The moon has only made half of its trek across the night sky, through the looping swirls of galaxies far, far beyond the reach of mere mortal men. That milky spin of stars, everyone knows, is where the gods live.

He wonders how many of them are looking down on him, sipping crystalline waters, and mocking his pain.

He would spit on every last temple step, if he could.

If he could just leave the fucking room-

“Brother Grigori,” His guest singsongs, half-dancing into the room. Grigory turns away from him, laying one palm over one of the iron bars that blocks any escape through the window. His fingers close slowly around it.

“What do you want.” His voice is curt, it cuts short and sharp. “Bastard.”

“Oh, see you got my name all wrong again.” The leader of this little gang is tall - too tall - and all knees and legs, lean muscle making him heavier than he looks. Grigori is tall enough for a man, but he seems like he’s half-grown, compared to the bandit. The man’s hair is a shock of white atop his head, shaved on the sides, while Grigori’s curly brown grows to the bottom of his ears, as is prescribed for the priests. He swaths himself in black kohl around his equally dark eyes and shining black leather worn back to brown from age and ill-use at the knees and elbows. Grigori’s hazel and his dirtied robes look like a joke, placed next to the bandit’s appearance. “It’s Bohli, remember? Or that’s what my mother calls me, anyway. Or she would, if she were still alive. She probably uses that when she curses my name from the heavens above, granted. I mean, probably, unless she really is suffering in the Dark After, like she deserves-”

“What do you want, Bohli?” Grigory’s head is already starting to hurt. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Nonsense. You have all the time in the world. You have nothing but time.”

“Not for… you. Please leave.”

“Nope. Not going anywhere. This is my house, remember? I just let you stay here.”

“Let me.” The words are sour in Grigori’s mouth. “Right, of course. Let me. Because I asked to be branded and trapped here in this room-”

“Hush. I take you for walkies every day, little god’s dog.” Bohli winks, and Grigori - who took a vow of pacifism, once - imagines stabbing his own knife through his eyeball until it comes out the other side of his head. “If you don’t want a leash, you just have to prove you won’t run off.”

He would, of course. Run. Outside, the woods stretch far and wide. There’s a path he could take to find a village, to find freedom...

Or… more realistically… to get arrested for being in league with Bohli and his bastards, which he isn’t, but everyone knows the goddess would save Her most faithful, and he’s been here too long. He would be branded a heretic. Everyone knows he’s a heretic. His own fellow priests would turn their backs on him. The people would burn him at the stake, for being defiled, degraded, a paragon of nothing but the filth they have covered him in. Little more than a bandit himself.

Maybe he is one.

Dromada would have saved him if he were truly Hers to save. And instead, here he is, the infamous giver of absolution to the men and women who massacre whole towns in defiance of - in direct insult to - the power and might of His Majesty, the King.

No. he would be burned as an enemy of the King's, and he would have no standing to defend himself. A captive this long isn't a captive at all, in the eyes of the world.

Just a man who no longer wants to be saved.

Tears prick at his eyes, and he struggles not to let Bohli see them and mock him even more. It’s not like he hasn’t already been marked. It was one of the first things they did. Bohli had given the order and watched while they tied him down. Grigori himself had been made to look as they put the iron in the fire, made to watch them heat it to red. Bohli had been whispering in his ear when when they pressed it to his pelvis, and Bohli had cooed over him while he screamed, stroking through his sweaty hair.

“Just leave,” He whispers, the area aching all over again. They branded him over the symbol of Dromada tattooed, a mark of his vow of chastity.

Another one broken.

Maybe that was when She stopped listening.

“Oh, but I can’t, darling Grigori. I’ve come to make a confession.” Bohli laughs, and his laughter could make you bleed even better than his blade. But somehow Grigori can’t seem to die from the loss. “Isn’t that why I keep a priest of Dromada around, anyway? For to save my poor mortal soul?”

Grigori fights the urge to wish aloud someone would poison the asshole’s food. “You would burn if you touched the Hem of her robe.”

“Maybe.” Bohli shrugs, kicking a chair over and dropping down into it, loose-limbed. His eyes spark with delight as he takes in Grigori’s misery. “But you wear Her robes, and yet I never burn when I touch you-”

“Speak your confession,” Grigory snaps, his heart twisting and going briefly silent and still in his chest. He feels blood rush to his face, and Bohli’s peal of bright, brittle laughter tells him the flush isn’t going unnoticed.

“Say it.” Bohli watches him, and it’s like being watched by one of the terrifying big cats that roam the woods just beyond this hideous prison. Unblinking, a predator’s stare. “Say the words, priest.”

Each time he does, they feel more bitter on his tongue.

But still.

Grigori draws the ruins of his robe closer around himself, and sits up straight. He swallows and sets his jaw. “Bohlinde hir Maksma en Ygridsen, the goddess Dromada hears and forgives all from those who love Her. You have only to ask. Speak, child, and be forgiven.”

Bohli licks his lips, leaning forwards. Somehow, Grigori can’t make himself look away. The bandit leader’s teeth are sharp - those canines can rend skin from bone. He’s part-elf, they say, somewhere in his bloodline the half-mindless shrieking hordes of the elven race lurk. You can always tell, so it’s said, from the sharpness of their teeth. From how little they care for the lives of men.

Maybe he’s half-elf.

It would explain why he’s so fucking smug.

“Forgive me, Dromada’s Chosen, for I have sinned against Her,” Bohli says, and he doesn’t even try to feign sincerity. Why he even plays this game, when Dromada isn’t a goddess for the elves of their wretched offspring to begin with, is beyond Grigori’s understanding.

Grigori fights the urge to sigh. He makes Dromada’s Sign, wondering if it even calls to Her any longer. If She even feels the spark of a follower’s call, or if he’s cut off from Her entirely. Who hears him when he prays?

Does anyone?

“How have you sinned against Our Mother, She Who Gave the Waters?”

Bohli licks his lips. His smile is a little too wide, shows too many of those sharp, sharp teeth. He'd be blisteringly handsome, if it weren’t for the sight of fangs where none should be. “I won’t lie, Brother Grigori. I set some stuff on fire yesterday. And I’m going to do it again. Will I be forgiven?”

Grigori imagines the mud climbing higher and higher up his robes, pulling him into the earth, forcing itself down his mouth and pressing over his eyes. He imagines the gods in the sky, looking down from their stars.

The image shatters with the memory of first sitting at the table with the dozen or so of Bohli's favorites, each of them smiling at him, while he sat in his pure white robes and felt himself bared, as if naked, before them.

Until Bohli had given the order for what to do with him.

“Dromada forgives all who seek Her,” Grigori intones, thoughtless. The words memorized before he was even thirteen years old, before he was old enough to take his vows. Before he was taken, and they were all broken, one by one. Bohli loved breaking Grigori's vows. “You have only to ask.”

“Good.” Bohli’s voice drops low. He has to focus to hear it, which is probably the bastard’s entire point. “Because I really, really love asking, and I love the sound of your answers.”

The bandit stands, walking over to him, putting one finger under his chin and forcing Grigori to look up - and up, and up, and up - to see the demon smile.

Grigori is sure, as Bohli watches him with his head tipped to the side and his black eyes as bright as the stars, that he can hear the goddess laughing.

#whump #new whump #the heretic's confession #captivity #captivity whump #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #fantasy whump #some weird fantasy race stuff happening here #just go with it #religious whump #religion whump #fantasy writing #bohli is a bad bad man #grigori is just a tired blorbo

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cacoetheswriting · 1 year

Note

Hello! I hope all is well. I had a fluffy request if that’s ok? Eddie x fem!reader where reader is an art nerd that likes to draw for their campaigns. One day, they’re hanging out preparing for the campaign and maybe Eddie had a run in with Jason earlier and was feeling a little down that day so then reader just starts aggressivley complimenting him out if nowhere. I really love your work! ❤️

thank youuu for this request & for your sweet words, makes my heart happy that you like my little fics ❤️ hope i did your vision justice!

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.6k content warnings: adult language, use of pet names, a little mutual pining, insecurities / self-doubt, mentions of bullying, mainly just fluff - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Your friendship with Eddie was an odd one — if you could even call it that. More colleagues than friends, to be honest. Or better yet, acquaintances by association.

Freaks. Geeks. Social outcasts.

There was however, one big difference.

Your status at Hawkins High was by design. A strategic decision you put into play long before you even stepped through the building doors. Growing up in a busy house with a younger brother too loud for his own good, solitude was your best friend. Art was your escape. Often you only found time for both at school. So no, you didn’t wanna socialise or try out for the cheerleading team. You were quite content being left alone.

Being neighbours with Nancy Wheeler, and your younger brothers being practically attached at the hip, helped with staying invisible ‘cause who’s gonna bully the girl that sometimes hung out with Nancy and King Steve.

Eddie unfortunately was not as lucky. His label wasn’t his choice — not at first anyway. It followed him through the years from an age arguably too young. No kid deserved to be treated the way he was simply ‘cause of how/where he was brought up. The curly-haired boy couldn’t escape the names, the teasing, the dirty looks. He couldn’t change his fate. So eventually he stopped trying. The Freak.

And perhaps that’s why he’s never fully warmed up to you. You were a fraud, not actually understanding what it’s like to be an outcast.

But it’s not like you cared what Eddie Munson thought of you or if the metalhead liked you in any way. Hanging around him was simply a means to an end. He needed someone to immortalise his D&D campaigns and you needed continuous inspiration as well as material for your portfolio.

Most of your meet-ups were surrounded by quiet.

Thinking back, that was the first mistake since it was in that congenial silence, you noticed how he sucked his lip between his teeth whenever he was deep in thought, and how he’d scrunch his brows together if what he came up with didn’t quite make sense. He was undoubtedly pretty. The faded freckles on his face are reminiscent of a million stars. The dips in his cheeks, appearing whenever he smiled, comparable to picturesque valleys. Those big brown of his eyes were like chocolate buttons and the more time you spent together, the more you thought you caught him glancing in your direction with that cocoa gaze, but that would be insane. Right?

It was also in those moments, as you drew the monsters he described in grave detail, you got to see the Eddie he so desperately tried to hide away from the rest of the world. The real Eddie. He was ridiculously smart. Not many people in Hawkins, if any at all aside from your silly little brother with his band of friends, could come up with such intricate ideas. Funny too, making you snort a laugh one too many times with practically zero effort. And he was kind. Asking you how your day was, seeming genuinely interested in your answer.

The small talk was kept to a minimum in the hours you two spent working on the campaigns, but whenever you did have a short conversation, Eddie always made sure his attention was focused solely on you. The second mistake was letting him, because being his priority, if only in the moment, made your stomach flutter.

But today Eddie hasn't uttered a single word aside from a measly hello when you opened your front door earlier that afternoon to let him in.

Normally the silence doesn’t bother you. If anything, you welcome it as it helps you concentrate on the details of any piece you’re currently working on. There was just something about the way Eddie was sitting that made you feel uneasy. He didn’t seem present. Leaning against your dresser, legs sprawled out in front of him, gaze focused on something out the window as he fidgeted with the pencil in his hand.

At first you thought maybe he was planning the next move in his new campaign and just needed a minute, but then fifteen minutes passed and the metalhead still hadn’t moved. If you didn’t know any better, you’d doubt he was even breathing. As still as a rock.

A sudden wave of concern rushes through you and without taking a second to consider what you were doing, you grab one of the pillows from your bed and throw it in his direction.

“Shit, what the—”

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s not sure how to answer that question, especially when he looks at you. Eyes wider than normal, accompanied by delicate worry lines that he's never really been on the receiving end of — aside from Wayne's constant frown. Eddie first thinks you're clearly faking the concern 'cause why would you actually care? But the longer his gaze remains connected with yours, the more he wants to believe your sincerity is genuine. And that's fucking scary.

“Yeah,” he says eventually. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothin' you need to worry about.”

But you don't give up as easily as he hoped you would.

“Wanna talk about it?”

His lips twitch though he never actually smiles and you are certain then something definitely happened because it's as if he really wants to offer you a glimpse of happiness, but his body is refusing.

Dropping his gaze to the pencil in his hands, Eddie sighs. “You don't have to do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

“Pretend like you actually give a shit,” he replies with a little more disdain than intended while once again catching your eyes with his own.

You don't mean to scoff, but you do. “Look, Eddie, I know we're not like best of friends or anything,” you begin, hopping off the bed with an elegant bounce. “But considering lately I spend more time with you than Nancy or Steve, I feel like we can at least talk about shit, no? Like when something is bothering us, we can talk about that.”

He's slightly surprised at your words. The admission that you hang out with him more than your actual friends didn't seem right to him. In his mind, you and Wheeler are inseparable. He sees you two together all the time, sharing a ride to school, having lunch at the same table. And in the evenings or at the weekends, you're always around Harrington and that other girl, Buckley. Not like Eddie seeks you wherever he goes... He's just... observant.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Eddie rolls his eyes, tone full of disbelief. “You don't gotta lie to make me feel better.”

“I'm not,” you defend and sit cross-legged at his feet, knees brushing against the soles of his dirty Converse in the process. You know you don't owe him an explanation or reasoning, but it seems Eddie won't let up about what's on his mind without one.

“Nancy and I have drifted apart since I kinda took Steve's side in their breakup. Sure we carpool and sit at the same table in the cafeteria, and our idiotic brothers are good friends, but that's pretty much it.”

Eddie starts to feel like a jerk for assuming shit when he clearly had no clue, but you don't give him a chance to interject.

“And yeah, I see Steve often, but it's not like we're all buddy-buddy. He likes it when I stop by the video store to literally sit on the counter and draw his stupid head of hair just so he can make other girls jealous.”

“Jesus, that's shitty.”

You shrug, a small smile circling your lips. “I don't mind. Free film rental and peaceful sketching time.”

The lighthearted tone of your voice makes the corners of Eddie's mouth curl upwards, matching the expression currently present on your face. There's a semi-second of quiet. He's no longer feeling bad 'cause you've taken those worries away with one simple look. And when you knock your knee against his shoe again, Eddie's completely relaxed.

Lost in the way the sun reflects in your eyes, the metalhead doesn't really think when he asks, “So how come you've never invited me over for movie night, huh?”

You smirk. “Horrors aren't really my thing. I actually like to enjoy what I'm watching,” you tease, “Even if the shit is free. Don't wanna see any decapitations, thank you very much.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. He pulls his legs up before sliding along the carpeted floor of your bedroom until he's about a reach away from you. Closer than he's ever been. His arms make way around his legs, ring-clad fingers hanging low, poking at your calf.

Surprisingly, you don't flinch at Eddie's sudden proximity or the delicate touch.

“Quite presumptuous of you, sweetheart.” He affirms, gaze focused on where his skin brushes against the denim of your jeans.

“So you don't only watch gruesome things?” You challenge, your own fingers hesitantly reaching towards him, stopping before you can actually graze him in any way.

Eddie's smirking. “Not the point.”

“Sounds like I'm right,” you muse, your smile growing wider. “But I'll make you a deal.”

He looks up to meet your eyes then, hiking a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod. “If you tell me what you were thinking about earlier, I'll let you pick a movie we can watch together. Even something horrific.”

This was uncharted territory — (and also your third mistake). The two of you have never hung out outside of working on D&D campaigns, but since Eddie asked a mere minute ago, even if he was just teasing, you figured why the fuck not. What's the worst that could happen? Plus this seemed the only way to get him to open up.

Eddie tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he mewls over your proposal. On the one hand, talking about feelings or problems isn't something he's necessarily into. And when it comes to spending time with you, part of the allure is congenial silence, unless he's the one fishing for information. On the other hand, his heart rate has increased tenfold at the thought of you hiding in his embrace during a particularly gross scene or before any jump scare.

In the end, the physical urge to be close to you, an unmistakable desire he's been experiencing for far longer than Eddie would care to admit out loud, wins.

“Carver just got in my head.”

The instant frown on your face, and how your fingers are suddenly reaching for his, looping together, make Eddie want to elaborate.

“Called me talentless. Usually the shit that douche and his gang of imbeciles spewer doesn't bother me 'cause I've been called many things throughout my life and whatever they come up with is more idiotic than hurtful, but I dunno, that comment just rubbed me the wrong way.”

He drops his gaze, focusing instead on your hands now perfectly intertwined. He began to rub gentle circles into your soft flesh and although this was completely odd behaviour for the two of you, it felt more than right.

“Because it's not true, Eddie.”

The metalhead's heart flips at your words and the encouraging tone behind them. Although he didn’t let it show, focusing instead on the dips between your knuckles and every single crease in your skin as he squeezed your hand just a little tighter.

“You're not talentless,” you affirm, dipping your head lower in hopes of catching his brown eyes. “If anything, you're one of the most talented people I've ever met.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, still refusing to look up.

“Eddie, you can't let those idiots make you feel worthless. You've got more talent in your left pinky than Carver and his band of bullies have put together.” You declare, rather passionately at that. “These campaigns you come up with, do you know the imagination that takes? I-I also know you play the guitar a-and sing too. Plus those extra curricular activities of yours require a mathematical brain. That's already also more talent than I have.”

He glances up at you then. “Shut up. As if you actually think I'm more talented than you?” he disputes and jerks his head towards some of the drawings covering the walls. “No one I know could do that and I know I never told you, but my campaigns would be nothin' without your art, sweetheart.”

Although heat rushes to your face at the unexpected compliment, you don't let Eddie's kind words steer you off course. This wasn't about what he thought of you, this was about what you thought of him and, as it turns out, how badly you wanted him to know.

“My stupid brother won't shut up about how fucking cool you are,” you reveal, chewing briefly on the inside of your cheek. “He's never said anything remotely as nice about me.”

Eddie lets out an airy chuckle. He drops his hold on you, but he doesn't give you a moment to even register how you instantly miss his touch, how your hands are burning with invisible imprints of where his skin brushed yours. No, because he's pushing your legs apart with little to no effort and sliding in-between them.

“Well, I happen to think you're cooler than me.”

It's your turn to laugh while again choosing not to comment on his closeness and ignoring how it made you feel. Ignoring how your stomach fluttered as he pressed his legs to your sides, hands hovering near your face as if he debated whether he was crossing some sort of line.

“Right. Don't fuck with me, Munson.”

“Cross my heart,” the metalhead promises. “Why do you think I asked you to help me out in the first place? Why do you think I willingly spend most of my afternoons with you? Like, there's no need for us to do this together. I can come up with the campaigns on my own then share the concepts so you can draw them out.”

You swallow 'cause the thought has never crossed your mind.

Before Eddie approached you with the offer, your knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons was definitely limited, only privy to whatever your brother and his friends shared. When Eddie asked you to draw something that very first time, and every time after that, you didn't stop and think if it was really necessary for you two to sit together for hours on end, crafting and creating on opposite ends of the room. Now that he's mentioned it, you really didn't need to.

“I-I don't—”

“There's no cooler chick than you, sweetheart.” Eddie interrupts, hands now cupping your face, no longer hesitant, and you're left wondering when the topic shifted from a conversation about his talents to whatever this was shaping up to be.

“Eddie...”

“How Harrington can use you to make other girls jealous instead of realising he should just ask you out, I-I don't understand.” The sentence fades with each word until his voice is a low muffle and you're not entirely sure you heard him correctly.

But every fibre of your being is screaming, so you know he definitely said it. And the way his doe-eyes are glimmering, your own reflection prominent in the pretty brown, only cinches that feeling.

Your final mistake is not asking then and there what Eddie meant.

He stands shortly after and extends a hand to also help you up.

“Speaking of, is the King of Hawkins working right now?” Eddie asks and when you nod slowly, still recovering from the small bomb he's after dropping, he claps his hands together. “Let's go then. I'm thinking we can start with My Bloody Valentine and because you're providing the entertainment, I'll get us some snacks.”

thank you for reading!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

#gosh this is a lot longer than i intended it to be #twas only supposed to be a drabble eek #but I hope you enjoy <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader

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veintrry · 1 year

Text

DETECTIVE SHIKANOIN

when his love is put under the lens of a magnifying glass what will you come to learn about your dear detective?

cw: nsfw at the very end, the rest is sfw.

an: I've been obsessed with him for the past couple of weeks I need to write smt related to him to cleanse my mind. inspired by this song <3

I've got this one, no sweat, no sweat

Don't be fooled by his cool façade. Even if he may attempt to make himself appear collected and unbothered when he's around you that man is absolutely charmed by you, horrendously so. Hell, no matter how many teasing comments he may throw at you trying to catch you off-guard more often than not its a way for him to regain himself and hopefully get the upper hand.

Prior to getting with you he'll be more flirty with you than anyone else, his words are coquettish and his playful demeanour is only sharper as he manages to find a way to make an amorous or passionate joke out of most situations. -- however you could merely argue that it's just how he is, irs his personality, despite how different it is compared to how he treats everyone else. He doesn't outright say it, not until he feels like he must. In truth, nobody wants to be rejected by the person they like, but if he notices how your behaviour towards him changes, how you entertain these ideas of him, how you get so close to him he can feel his heart stuck at his throat. He begins to hope. It only takes one long day filled with hightened emotions and actions that feel like memories he was born to fulfill, words he was meant to speak to you, for him to finally say it.

After you two start dating god is he direct. He will make his love for you as clear as day, he doesn't see why he wouldn't. Though, that doesn't mean he shows you everything. After all, it'd be embarrassing for him if he told you just how much he liked you, though he doesn't mind showing you on special occasions in detail both verbally and physically.

please be my second pair of eyes

the level of trust that Heizou has embedded within you is one not easily achieved nor granted. His trust in you is much higher than with anyone else, despite being confident about where his peers stand with him he sees you as his indefinite rock, someone's who's tied to him at the hip and who covers his blind spot out of sheer habit. He didn't get you involved with his cases often but something he enjoyed was hearing your interpretations. In an unintentional way, you end up looking out for clues without you realising whenever he takes up a new case. You rarely ever directly insert yourself into a situation, but if there's someone he needs to help him catch a criminal he knows who to ask.

why don't you get those thoughts off of your chest

say the word and he's right at your side in the blink of an eye. Actually, you wouldn't even have to speak for him to notice when you're distressed or behaving oddly. It starts with small actions coming from you, slight wrinkles around your eyes and forehead as you furrow your brows ever so slightly, the glaze over your eye seemingly holding a different darker hue, and it felt more as though you were out of it, mind rummaging elsewhere as you begin to neglect or forget about all kinds of things, from irrelevant to gravely important. He maintains a patient mind with you, waiting for you regardless and making sure to make up for mistakes you've made, offering you a guiding hand.

He doesn't verbally approach you immediately unless you looked like you were on the brink of breaking, otherwise he begins to involve himself with you furthermore, checking in with you whenever he sees you wandering around, attempting to make dishes you find comfort in, offering you more affection as he clings to you more, and spending more of his free time around you (in truth he merely ditches going to the Tenryou Comission opting to be there for you. The worse that could happen is him being barraged by Sara anyways.) However, if he sees that you're purposely attempting to avoid speaking about it with anyone that's when he acknowledges it. Patient he is, but that doesn't mean he won't already be looking into it himself, he can't help listening to his intuition.

and let me take good care of you

he really is the kindness to spoil you with affection. Whether it be verbal or physical just know he always has something up his sleeve. When it comes to gifts I'd think he'd rather find them with you, travelling to a beautiful view and looking around to find something to keep. He's the kind to adore matching bracelets, I don't doubt that if you had made a pair for the both of you he'd tease you relentlessly, but don't let that distract you from how wide he's smiling. He'll honour you with everything he has, he'll ensure that you are happy because to him, you mean the world and so much more.

Shikanoin is a great detective and a reason for that is how attentive he is to little details that others may dismiss. Trust that he'll take mental notes of: foods you like that he could cook for you (and add some shikanoin love into the mix), items you saw outside window shopping, items that remind him of you, sounds that bother you, habits you have when you get nervous or anxious around others, how you like to be held or to hold him when you're sleeping. It's all stuff he keeps in mind throughout daily life subconsciously, you just become an inherently big part of him.

shh, don't worry, I already know

If you are ever in a tight spot the last thing you'd have to do is outright tell him. Everyone has their secrets, and many of us want to keep things to ourselves, including burdens. However, if you were stuck in a position where you can't do anything, rest assured. Heizou doesn't outright tell you that he's figured it out, he waits for the slightest sign of a confession or request from you to act upon his plans.

Arguments between you weren't common, there wasn't a lot to argue about. Though, if a situation arises and you two get into a heated debate about something, it's hard to recover. Hard because it becomes a question of who'll speak first. If you give him the silence treatment, believe me he'll return it, but after a while he'll realise that he only reciprocated the treatment because he was upset at you. He will approach you first and if he was in the wrong he'll apologise to you, but if it was something you did that hurt him he'd urge you to understand how he feels and wait on an apology.

A part of him feels that arguing would be a waste, because in truth when it comes down to it, you two are at each others beck and call, risking your love just over some disagreement is the last thing he'd want.

baby, one more time for me (nsfw)

It's hard for him to simply settle down and stop after a couple of rounds, especially when you're moaning right into his ear, when your chest is rising up and down with your heavy breaths meeting his skin, and your tantalizing eyes, stuck onto him as though he'd disappear in an instant. It's like you were savouring each view of him, as though with your half-lidded eyes you were only finding more ludicrous thoughts brewing within the cauldron that is your mind.

He can't help it when he feels you tighten around him, your hand gripping onto his hair as you pull him into the crook of your neck, muffling your call for him with his shoulder, regardless he hears how needy you sound, how your voice pleads for him and how his name sounds like a prayer leaving your mouth and he would never want you to stop, because if his name was a mantra then he'll gurantee you stay focused on him and only him.

A hand rides up your outer thigh as he laughs near the shell of your ear, "Come on," He urges, and you already know what he means. Both your bodies feel like they're burning, the sweat between you two is sticky as you attempt to catch you breath, repeating his name in a whine. "Just once more, I promise." You knew better though and he himself knew that he was merely deceiving nobody when he let those words fall off his tongue with such ease. "Liar." Your brows furrow as you teasingly glare at him, he merely responds with a sheepish smile as though he was a naïve criminal, caught red-handed, though that grin quickly morphed into his signature cocky smile as his gaze narrowed onto you "I can't help it when you look so pretty like this, all for me, too." You suppose you should be glad that he was very thorough with his searches.

#suffering from severe heizou brainrot #heizou x reader #heizou #heizou fluff #heizou smut #heizou headcanons #heizou shikanoin #heizou genshin impact #genshin shikanoin #heizou shikanoin x reader #shikanoin heizou #genshin impact shikanoin x reader

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ourdreamsareneon · 7 months

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okay *cracks knuckles* I did a post about gale, time for his better half - astarion

Some of you don't have media literacy and it shows.

I dont know where to start so I'm gonna go hard before getting soft (insert sex joke.) Act 1 astarion is an asshole. He's manipulative and toxic and uses his power as a ~230 year old vampiric high elf to manipulate you into (among other things) having sex with him. I understand falling for him at that point, that's not your fault it's just the game gaming and the writers are really good at how they write his manipulation. However, it does strike me as strange that some of y'all get to the scene where he confesses to using and manipulating you and you....don't care? 'He's just damaged! its not his fault!' babygirl, someone can have a good reason for hurting you, but that doesn't take away the pain. I'm not saying that you shouldn't still love him, but it's strange how many of you disregard that scene. I know for me at least I was saddened by it and definitely was a little wary about him afterwards until beating Cazador and unlocking the nice happy healthy Astarion relationship.

Now here's where we get soft to prove that I actually like Astarion. The reason that confession stings for me is because I have many a memory of being SA'd then being told "I'm not even into you, you were just there." Ever since I stopped being a girl and became a woman, something that happened all too early in my life, I have been used and abused. And hey, sorry for making my Tav the exact same way but I like processing my trauma through D&D. I relate a lot to Astarion. Hurt people hurt people and I know that better than anyone. I also know better than anyone that picking yourself up and healing from that hurt sucks ass. Which brings me to two points. Um apologies for getting hard on you again.... insert another sex joke here.

1) Astarion isn't ace. I've seen this briefly and while I appreciate the need for queer rep, and love headcanons, I do think this discounts the struggle a lot of SA survivors go through. Okay, back to my life so we can compare. When I was chin deep in my abusive relationships and just general shitty time of my life, I was fucking and sucking literally so much it hurt. However as soon as I got out of that situation, I basically became celibate for 2 years. I didn't know how to have sex in a way that was healthy, or that wouldn't make me feel awful about myself. It was only this year that I was able to finally have sex in a way that made me happy. I think you'd be blind not to see Astarion in the same way. He's just a hurt man that is trying to rediscover and heal himself. Which is why he doesn't care about Tav and Halsin, and why you can have sex on his grave. He is very sexually open he just needs some time.

2) Ascended Astarion isn't sexy and I don't think some of you are ready for that conversation. Look I don't have time to go through this because I have a meeting in 30 minutes because I'm an adult with bad time management. But I just. Come here. Come real close. Abusive relationships aren't hot and sexy. We all love a little bit of kink but if you don't see Ascended Astarion as clearly the bad choice, I'm very confused. He's so sweet and loving and kind and HEALED if you don't let him ascend, I can't imagine not wanting that. And like I said, kink is fine! And ascending him because you're doing an evil run or whatever is also fine! Just please, I need teenagers to stop romanticising abuse because the media you consume does rub off on you.

TL;DR I love Astarion with all my heart, but by the writers own admission he was created as a Try Not To Overly Sexualise an Abuse Survivor Challenge and y'all are failing left and right!

#refusing to read this before posting because my cat sat on me and now im over stimulated #also ive been in love with neil as soon as i saw Gavin Reed breathe in dbh so im not better than anyone #it just saddens me i think bc it feels the same as ppl who sexualise my trauma #i also literally have a side blog dedicated to Billy Stranger Things so this isnt avout the good victim/bad victim thing #because that doesnt exist and if it did i wouldnt be on the good side uwu #anyway let me know what i missed or just scream at me to shut up lol #bg3 #balders gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #tw: sa mention

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misspearly1 · 2 years

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Day One: Size Difference - Joel Miller

Kinktober22 List

WC: 6.1k Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Mutual Pining. Smut. Unprotected PIV sex. Size Difference kink & Praise kink. (This one's on me, I can't help but include some sexy southern praises from Joel lmao) Reader is a little shy. Joel makes reader feel small and petite, no matter her actual size - he's just bigger than her in every way. AN: I didn't plan for this to be so long, but words just kept spilling and here we are 6k later haha. Enjoy my loves, this is only the first of many and I hope this kinktober was worth the wait <3

You’ve never really considered yourself to be a small woman, sure there are people out there that are taller than you and there are people out there who are shorter than you as well, but you haven’t really put much thought about your height until you came across a man named Joel Miller.

He, compared to you, feels like a giant. He isn’t a giant of course, but just standing beside him and having to bend your neck slightly to look up into his dreamy brown eyes says something. There are other people here in Jackson who are mighty tall too, Jesse or Eugene for example, but they don’t make you feel small like the way Joel Miller does. Oh no.

There’s something else different about him that makes you feel small, something intimidating… sexually intimidating. When you’re around Joel, you actually become aware of the size difference, all of the size differences actually. His hands are much larger than yours, his shoes are huge, arms beefed out with muscles that make yours look pathetic, calves, thighs and back are also beefed out with muscles over twenty years worth of keeping fit, but his chest is most impressive.

You’ve caught a glimpse of Joel without a shirt once and that image was burned into your memory forever. He's hairy, enough that you’ve thought about running your fingers through, strong and wide chested which has caught you off guard multiple times now, especially in close quarter situations where you feel like you're being caged in by the man.

You’d give anything to hug him, to really hug him, like sit in his lap and let his arms wrap around you. Arguing with yourself that it’s just his rugged handsomeness and quiet exterior that you're drawn to, you’ve come to the conclusion after your most recent encounter with the man that it’s actually his size difference that's driving you crazy the most.

Your most recent encounter with Joel almost caused you to embarrass yourself and reveal your little crush on him, but thankfully due to his oblivious and carefree nature, he didn’t take notice and you were safe. It happened on a group patrol last week when Joel was showing you the ins and outs.

He was showing you how to properly approach seemingly empty buildings and search the place, then he showed you how to make use of your supplies and weapons judging on the size or quantity of infected. If there is just one, you take it out with a knife, if there are more, use fire effectively to kill multiple at once, and lastly, if it’s a bloater, use everything you’ve got or get out of there.

Everything was going great and you were learning a lot, until things took a turn for the worst when you entered a small block of apartments. The group split up in pairs to search the building thoroughly and when there was a bloater in one of the apartments that Joel noticed before you did, he grabbed your arm before you could alert your position and pulled you back to the wall.

The manoeuvre was just to prevent you from making a grave mistake, although the stance he took and held over you was throwing you completely off balance. Both of you were wearing masks to protect yourselves against the spores, the building was dark and dusty, but in that moment with both of Joel’s hands placed to the wall behind your head, his large and broad chest in your face, it couldn’t be any more clear for you that it was his size difference that turns you on.

It turned you right there and then, especially when he placed his thumb and forefinger to your chin, tilting your head back to look up into his eyes so he could ask if you were okay. A faint breathy moan is what escaped your lips in reply. A subtle nod of your head answered his question before he looked away, thankfully right before your legs squeezed together. He didn’t notice then how aroused you were, and he isn’t around right now to see how aroused you are again just thinking about it.

The man took you out of there quickly, then proceeded to take a few others from the group who had more experience back into the block of apartments to kill the bloater. You heard the commotion from outside, hoped and prayed that everything went smoothly and when they all emerged unharmed, you asked Joel for extra help. You wanted to be at their level of fighting skills, to be one of the people that he can call on should a situation like this ever arise again.

However, today is the day you planned to meet up with him and undergo some one-on-one lessons, and although you're nervous as hell to be around him since last week's incident, you need to learn how to fight as well as he and others in Jackson do. You’re a part of this community now, have been for the last year, and it’s time now to learn everything that you should have long ago.

Before you found Jackson, you were in another group that did things very differently, which ultimately caused their demise in the end. They taught you to always take the stealthy approach, sneak around the infected and slip by unnoticed, which you did exceptionally well, however it was because of this fighting technique that resulted in the surrounding area of their camp becoming more and more crowded with infected until they eventually closed in.

And before you found that camp, your mother and father had always protected you. They still try to even now, but their age is catching up with them and it’s just another reason for you to make a change. A few weeks after they called it quits with patrols - or in other words, they retired - you joined up to the group patrols, thus bringing you here now as you make your way over to Joel’s house.

Thankfully, it's the beginning of summer so it’s not too cold or too hot just yet, though in a few weeks you know it’s going to be sweltering and your choice of clothing today is purely practical; shorts and a vest - perfect for the task ahead and weather all around.

While you may have accidentally put on a pair of clothes that are one size small, they actually fit rather well, but are tight in specific areas - areas that you want Joel to notice. You wouldn’t normally opt for this type of clothing if you were going beyond the walls, but since Joel detailed that your first lesson will be held in his backyard, you figured it wouldn’t cause much of a problem to wear more of a skin revealing outfit.

Besides, you’ve passed at least three or four people wearing shorts and vests just like yourself on your way to his house. You know it won’t be a problem, you’re just getting inside of your own head because you’re hoping it will grab his attention and that's what's causing you to overthink.

Reaching his home after a leisurely stroll, you stop at the base of his porch steps and take a minute to calm down your anxiousness. He’s just a guy that you have a crush on, how problematic can it be to learn an important thing or two from him about fighting off infected?

I’m fussing over nothing. You conclude with your inner voice then climb the stairs with some newfound confidence. Knocking on his door three times, you wait a few moments before hearing him calling for you to just come inside. “Hey, it’s just me.” You call out, even though you know he is expecting you, it’s just to be well mannered and all.

When he yells back, reporting that he’s in the backyard, you make your way through the laundry room and out the back door, bracing for his look of disgust that never came. Joel wasn’t even looking at you or your outfit, he was too busy assorting three long planks of wood on the table top, stacking them up on top of each other. On the grass below lay a whole mess of wood shavings and wood blocks. “Hi.” You greet him again, this time with a small wave.

“Morning. You’re a little early, Y/N. Let me finish up here, then we’ll get started.” He speaks with an authoritative tone, which makes you yearn to hear him say other, more sexual things, in an authoritative tone of voice. Snapping out of your drooling, you remember your manners and move towards him, offering your help. “Is there anything I can do… With whatever this is that you’re doing?”

“It’s just wood.” Joel chuckles softly before finally standing up straight to look at you. He brings a hand up to block the sun from his eyes and you fight the urge to smile when seeing his eyes dart down your body for a split second, no disgust, but he does quickly avert his gaze and asks. “I was gonna to sand down the blocks. You actually wanna help with that?”

“Sure.” You shrug, nodding. “Doesn’t look too complicated.”

“Alright then.” Joel chuckles again, which sounded more of a scoff this time, as if he couldn't believe that you actually wanted to help. Turning away from you, he heads into his garden shed to retrieve something then comes back out holding two large duffle bags filled with tools. After rifling through one of them, he hands you a pair of gloves then a sandpaper holder. “Soften the surfaces with this and take your time with it too, I don’t want any splinters.”

“Okay.” You chirp with optimism and ignore his belittling attitude before starting with the closest block of wood. It was a large cut, probably a weight you would struggle to lift whereas Joel would have no problem with it, and seeing as though it was just laying on the grass, you just knelt down instead of attempting to pick it up.

After putting your gloves on, you start sanding down each surface carefully while noticing the way Joel kept looking over to you in the corner of your eyes. You hoped that he was stealing glances of those areas of your body that were accentuated with your tight clothes, but he was actually just checking that you were doing your task properly.

It sucks that he doesn't seem interested, but at least now you know for sure and you can move on from your silly little crush. Which means you can stop making an effort to look good in front of him too. Kneeling to the floor properly now without a care of how you look, you rest your weight on your heels and focus on the block of wood, tilting it over to sand each new ragged face until it is smooth.

You’ve heard about Joel and his workshop, about how he crafted a couple handmade guitars for some of the residents and it makes you wonder if he’s using these blocks for something else. You fail to see how he can make a guitar out of a square block, it’s too chunky and definitely not long enough, but maybe he could make one of those other guitars, the littles ones.

“Hey, what are those little guitars called again, I forgot?” You ask after trying to remember the name of them, but to no avail. When there was no answer from Joel, you thought that maybe he didn’t remember either. "Oh, Ukulele. That's it." You tut to yourself upon remembering the name, though there was still no answer from Joel.

Turning to look at him, curious as to what has him so occupied that he can't answer you, it becomes quite clear when you witness him quickly look away with a sigh, acting like the planks of wood were hard work for him to move around. They weren't, he wasn't even moving them - Joel was staring at your ass.

So, he did take notice of the clothes after all. You say to yourself silently, wondering how you could make use of your outfit to get more reactions out of him. Leaning forward very subtly, you play it off like you needed a better angle to sand the wood block and the sound of him clearing his throat was victorious. It was more of a choked grunt catching in his throat, which gave you the confidence to push some more with your teasing tactics.

Spreading your legs apart just a little, acting as if your thighs were sore from sitting in the position, you arch your back too and it worked beautifully as Joel drops his hand to readjust himself. Thankfully the strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes kept him from noticing that you could see him clearly easing the ache in his crotch.

You wanted to laugh so bad. It was amusing knowing he is struggling, but you kept on with your poker face and wore an expression of focus while you work. A few moments later though, you stop to straighten your back and wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand.

“Phew!” You huff, fanning your vest shirt to circulate the air around your flushed skin. It’s hot today, and although you’re mostly working up a sweat from the consistent back and forth action of sanding wood, you’re also working up a sweat because of Joel as he, too, was feeling the heat.

Moisture was gathering on his forehead and there was a thin damp trail lining the back of his shirt, the sight sexy to look at each time he turned his back to you. All you wanted right there and then is see his top half naked again, the memory of it in your mind isn’t enough, thus causing you to sigh with need.

“You know, if yer need a drink all yer gotta do is just ask.” Joel offers, his tone coming across a tad frustrated. Gee, I wonder why? Laughing on the inside, you look over to him, still fanning your vest - which you noticed him drop his eyes to look at - then replied. “Okay then. I’d like a drink please, Joel.”

With a curt nod in reply, he removes his gloves and sets them down on the table top before heading inside the house. You hear the tap running and glasses clinking, but there was a long pause after the tap was turned off and when the man came back outside, your first immediate thought when seeing him was, ‘oh shit, he knows’.

Joel came back outside, shirtless, holding a glass of water in each hand and instead of just handing one over to you like any normal, sane person would, he decided to kneel down to the grass beside you first, maintaining your eye contact, then handed it over.

Taking the glass from him with wide eyes, you know for a fact that he is doing this purposely to get back at you simply because of the way the corners of his lips twitch. He was fighting back the urge to smile and laugh. You probably look like a deer in the headlights to him and he thinks it’s funny.

You can’t even say that you’re angry about it either because you wanted to see him shirtless again and goddammit does he look good right now. Especially when he takes a drink of water, the droplets rolling down his sharp chin then down his tanned, muscled neck ever so slowly like he was advertising some beer commercial.

Watching his adams apple bob with each gulp he took and licking your lips with your dirty thoughts, you now fight an urge to let your eyes drop to where you want to look most. His chest and stomach were so close to you, so large and tempting to reach out and touch, but you can’t do that. It would be wrong and certainly overstepping his boundaries.

Instead, you look away and take a drink of water, to coat your dry mouth after staring at him for so long, however his proximity to you was still so close and you could still see him the corner of your eyes. The hairs in between his pecs, or the little trail of hairs over his belly button, leading into his jeans, the strong muscular veins in his hands and forearms. It didn’t matter that you looked away because you could still see everything.

“I need to use your bathroom.” Standing from the floor upon feeling lightheaded and dizzy, Joel stood up from the floor too and it just made everything worse. He’s so fucking tall, your head is level with his brawny man boobs, and you would even go as far as saying they’re bigger than yours, though his are purely made of strength, whereas yours is made up of fleshy tissue. “Where do I go?” You ask, diverting your attention back to the original task which is to step away for a moment and catch your breath, otherwise he’ll be picking you up off the floor very soon.

“Go inside, out the laundry room then it’s the door to your left.” Nodding to him, you manage to whisper a small thankyou before your legs quickly carry you inside his house. You’re a mess, a soaking wet mess and you can feel it dampening your underwear. All that confidence you had just a few moments ago vanished and you need to get yourself together.

Finding the bathroom and taking a whole minute to cool off, your cheeks were blushing red and your chest was on fire, still worked up over his actions just now. After finishing off your glass of water, you filled it up again in his sink and exited the room while gulping back the substance to drown your nerves.

Why does he make me feel so nervous? And why the hell do I love it?! You argue with yourself internally, completely bypassing the man sitting on the stairs as you walk past - until he speaks. “What’s the matter, darlin’?” He asks seductively, causing you to choke with surprise.

Turning quickly, you puff out a heavy breath of air from the shock of his voice and lean against the banister, lifting your arm to wipe away the water that had escaped your lips. “Jesus, you startled me.” You scoff, to which Joel responds by lifting his hand to rub your chin, wiping away the water you had missed.

Gasping from the action, he now allows himself to fully smirk and drags his thumb across your bottom lip, crooking one brow. “You sound so pretty when you choke.” I’m dreaming, right? This isn’t real, I passed out in the bathroom and this is a dream...

Panicking with your inside voice, your heart was practically leaping out of your chest with his thumb gently pulling your bottom lip down, as if he were opening your mouth. If you felt sexually intimidated by him before, then he has just cranked it up a few notches and blown off the Richter scale. You felt a flood of arousal rush straight to your core - again! Which was causing your thighs to squeeze together - which he most certainly noticed this time, and laughed at. He actually just laughed at you.

“Don’t yer think I’ve noticed what you’ve been doin’?” Dropping his arm now and tilting his head to the side, mockingly, he narrows his eyes. “Wearing those clothes? Moaning to me and squeezing your legs together just now and last week? Or staring at me for long periods of time, hm? Didn’t think I caught on to that, did you babydoll?” He bites his lip, then smirks once more.

“Oh God.” You whisper under your breath, gulping back air as your mouth becomes dry yet again. Joel definitely knows, and not just about you deciding to wear these clothes today, but he knows about your crush… about everything.

“No, I’m far from God-” He chuckles whilst shaking his head. “Just call me by my name, unless you’d prefer to moan it, darlin’.”

“Took y-you long enough t-to notice.” You stutter, finally breaking your silence by backchatting. You found just enough confidence to reply to Joel after feeling so taken aback by his tone and attitude with you. It’s sexy as hell and you want more of it, but you also want to be bold and sexy for him too.

“Yeah, well I had to make sure first, didn’t I?” He retaliates, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he shakes his head at you, as if he was annoyed but his smile said otherwise.

Joel likes your attempt at back chatting, though you felt embarrassed for stuttering, just seeing him so amused gave you some courage, and besides, he has just said that he had to make sure - meaning he has known about your crush for a while and was making sure his suspicions are correct before making a move, therefore… He must like me too.

Coming to a realization with that thought, your silence certainly wasn’t helping and you quickly replied. “And to make sure of what exactly?” Shrugging your shoulders, you feign innocence to the man like you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, hoping he would express his thoughts into words. “Enlighten me, Joel.”

“I wanted to make sure that the things I was noticing about you were correct.” He clarifies, then pauses for a second to find the right words upon seeing your disappointment. You wanted more from him, to really hear him get dirty with that mouth of his, and he knows it too.

Joel can visually see what you want without a need for words, the man is good at surveying people and he’s had some time surveying you. Lifting his hand, he beckons you closer with a finger, which you do for him without protest, and your heart still beats fast, panties drenched once again and chest still burning a blaze, but right now, you would do anything he asks of you.

Standing in front of him, just between his legs, the position he was sitting in put his face level with yours and his big dreamy eyes darkened as he whispers. “I wanted to make sure that you really wanted me and it wasn’t just a harmless little crush. That’s why it took me so damn long, darlin’ because..." He pauses, eyes roaming the expanse of your face with a genuine smile on his lips. "Because everything will change between me and you, and I want to be certain that it's what you want."

Nodding, you couldn’t find the words to reply even if you wanted to. You’re so close to him, so close to bringing your dreams into a reality. You’ve pleasured yourself thinking about this, thinking about being caged in by his big strong arms, your cheek resting on his chest as he fucks you until stars appear behind your eyes. You can physically feel the pulse in your nether regions, that’s how desperate you are to let Joel take you right here, right now, but he needs to hear you express your thoughts into words too.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll work on that confidence of yours.” He leans in closer, bringing a thumb up to your bottom lip again. “Now, I did my part y/n, so you gotta do yours and tell me what I need to hear before we go any further - what is it that you want from me?” He asks simply, a clear and simple question; leaving the door open for you to let yourself in - it’s an invitation.

The control is in your hands right here, right now. You could lie to him and say he has got it all wrong, that you’re not interested, but then you would be lying to yourself too. Joel is giving you a choice because you know just by looking in his eyes that he isn’t going to let you go until he’s satisfied with his pleasurable treatment for you. And you want it, you absolutely want his pleasurable treatment.

“I want you.” Is what you say in a breathy moan. Eyes feeling heavy and love drunk, you inhale shakily when feeling his thumb push past your lips. “I need you, Joel.” You clarify, giving him more confirmation, more control. Your eyes close now when feeling the pad of his thumb on your tongue, sealing your lips around him with a suckling bite, he hums deeply with a contented sigh, pleased with your responses.

“Oh, that's a good girl, y/n.” Joel growls a praise, his voice heavy with desire and need. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear, but now you gotta open those eyes for me.”

Doing as he says, you open your eyes and moan at the dark wanton expression on his face. It’s feral, wild. “Atta girl.” Joel praises you again, and it never occurred to you how much you needed to hear him say it before. No one else could hold the power he does in a simple praise.

Suddenly, his thumb on your tongue pushes down, a directional signal for you to kneel and you do. Carefully falling to your knees, your hands land on his thighs to hold yourself steady, to keep you tethered to reality with what’s about to come. Joel removes his thumb and leans back to unbuckle his belt, which is where you now become fully aware of his exceptionally large bulge showing through the fabric of his jeans.

You’ve wondered about his size on many occasions now, wondered if he is large in length or girth, or both, and you’re about to find out. Looking up into his eyes, the man grunts a heavy groan at your expression. “Fuck! You look so pretty on your knees for me, darlin’.”

Working faster to release his cock from the confines of his clothes, lifting his hip up off the step to pull down his jeans and boxers, you watch in awe as his sizable cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. It's big, much bigger than you expected.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna fit sweetheart.” Joel chuckles after seeing your eyes widen. The tip of his cock reaches his belly button, but the length isn’t what made your eyes widen, it's the girth of him. You know just by looking at his dick that you’d struggle to wrap your fingers around him, and just thinking about him entering you makes you wince. “Hey.” He calls for you, pulling your attention back to his eyes with reassurance. “We have all night, doll and we'll both take our time, okay?”

"Okay." Gulping, you nod to him and push past your initial fear. Of course Joel would be big here too, he’s big everywhere else, and it was silly of you to think he would have an average or below average sized cock. There’s nothing average about him. Not even his balls, which look like they would fit nicely in the palm of your hand.

After seeing his thighs tense with need, your own curiosity and desire was growing too impatient and you reached out to cup his sac. “Oh fuck.” He gasps from the contact. Leaning back and spreading his legs apart, you take advantage of the room he was giving you and move between his thighs, already feeling surrounded by him.

You squeeze his thigh with your other hand while placing an experimental kitten lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches, balls pulling up in your hand with the sexiest sounds escaping his lips. His moans were praising your actions, therefore giving you a boost of confidence.

“Joel.” You whisper his name, to which he lifts his head and looks down his body, directly into your eyes. “Gotta keep those eyes open for me.” You smirk, using his own words against now before leaning in and sealing your lips around the tip of his cock.

"Oh, you're a naughty woman." The man grunts through his struggles to keep his eyes open, but no matter how stubborn as he is, he keeps them open for you, watching and living in the moment of you sucking the tip of him softly with skill. Joel knew under all of that shyness there was a impressive, sexy and experienced woman.

After wondering how much you can take, you bury him inside your mouth until it becomes too much, which is more than halfway. And although you felt proud to take that much inside, you wanted to impress him and take more, to be able to bury your nose into the hairs on his mound and sound so pretty for him choking on his cock. You heard Joel loud and clear earlier, he enjoyed hearing you choke on your water and you know now that he was picturing you choking on his length instead.

“I may need your help.” You blurt when releasing him. Removing your hand from his thigh, you wrap it around the base of him and rotate your wrist. “You’re too big for my mouth Joel, it won’t fit.” You tease with a smile, growing more and more confident with each passing second before opening your mouth once more and taking him inside again.

“Oh, it will.” He growls, digging his feet into the floor for leverage. “I’ll help you make it fit, doll - trust me."

Moaning when he places his hand to the back of your head, you didn’t know what you liked most, the feeling of his large cock inside of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, or the fact that his hand is about the size of your head and takes very little for him to hold. The man doesn’t even need to use your hair when pushing you down, burying himself a little deeper and groaning at the sound of you gagging around him, he could keep you in this position if he wanted to, make you choke for air as his cock takes up every inch of space in your throat, yet he didn’t.

Instead, Joel found a comfortable rhythm that benefits you both for his sake of pleasure and your ability to breathe, though whether it be guilt or desire that you aren’t receiving anything, he carefully sat up and slipped his hand down your vest top, holding your soft plump breast in his hand. You went with the latter as that quickly became too little for Joel and he yanked the straps of your vest and bra down, revealing one side of your chest completely for him to caress in the way he really wanted to.

“Hm, sensitive aren’t they?” He mocks as you moan around him, feeling him pinch your nipples. Rolling the bud around, he removes his hand for a second and you watch as he licks the tip of his fingers before returning to circle your bud with his spit. You can physically feel your nipples begin to harden, growing more and more sensitive to every little touch he gives.

Multitasking must be one of Joel’s strong suits as he continues to push your head down on his cock while fondling your breast in a way that uses pleasure to distract the discomfort in your jaw, however just as you begin to feel his balls pull up in your hand and clearly hear him moaning from above, nearing his peak, he abruptly pushes you back with a ragged inhale. “No, not yet, darlin’...your turn.”

Leaning down and planting his lips on yours in a fervent, heated kiss, Joel pulls down your vest shirt all the way, along with your bra. You then gasp when he hooks his fingers inside your shorts to pull them down, though he left your panties on.

“Joel.” You manage to moan out his name when he wraps his arms around your lower back. It made you feel small and you loved it - loved how the sheer size of him made you feel smaller than what you actually are.

Holding onto his shoulders when he leans back, pulling you with him, the man had no issue whatsoever with wrapping your legs around his waist to stand up and walk up the stairs with you held in his arms. Still feeling small, you also felt as light as a feather until Joel had to stop a couple times just to focus on kissing your lips.

You initially thought it was because you were heavy in his arms, but that simply wasn’t the case. He just couldn’t focus on walking while your tongue tangled with his, causing him to push you up against the wall and grunt into your mouth. You were the one making him dizzy now. You were causing him to lose focus and become wild with need.

The man couldn’t wait any longer once he reached the top of the stairs and entered the nearest room to sit you down on a bench. The cool surface sends waves of unexpected pleasure through your body, but when he yanks your hips towards him and rolls his hips into you, it damn near sends you over the edge. “Fuck!” You whine, feeling the desperation radiating from him.

Breaking the kiss, he looks down your body and swipes a finger up your panties, completely slick with your desire. “You know…” He chuckles softly while toying with your underwear, teasing you. “It was hard not to take you last week in that apartment building. When you moaned?” Shaking his head at you, he bites his lip and circles your clit through the fabric. “I was certain then that you wanted me, but the moment wasn’t safe, darlin’, otherwise I would have fucked you against the wall right there and then.”

“Well, we’re safe now.” You whisper. Mouth falling open with a gasp when he slips his fingers inside your panties and teases your entrance.

“We are indeed, babydoll.” Nodding, Joel whispers in agreement that the moment is right. It is safe now, there’s no infected around, no doubts lingering in his mind and there’s nothing stopping him anymore.

“What are you waiting for then?” You ask, feeling the pad of his finger dragging up and down your slit, but not actually touching the areas you want most. His actions worked beautifully in making you yearn for more - he was making you desperate and needy.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the way your pussy reacts to my touch.” Joel smiles, a sweet sinister smile as he continues to not give you what you want. You know he’s doing that to draw a reaction out of you, to make you plead for him, and you do plead because you are too desperate.

“Please, Joel.” You whimper, then jolt against him when he circles your clit. By now, you had soaked his hand, you could feel him rubbing his fingers together and just loving the way you’re gushing for him. You quiver and pulse around nothing, the muscles beginning to form an ache that needs to be caressed. Only on a handful of occasions have you managed to cause yourself a painful ache in your cunt by waiting too long to satiate your sexual needs, but Joel is doing that right now and knows he’s doing it - he knows your cunt is physically aching to be filled.

“Please, what?” He smirks while pressing his forehead to yours and pulling your panties to one side. Joel notches the tip of himself at your entrances and you instantly clench again, the action making him grow impatient now as he asks again. “Please what, Y/N? C’mon doll, tell me what I need to hear, then I’ll give it to yer.”

“I want you inside of me, Joel.” You speak honestly, not caring how shameful and pathetic you sound. “I want you to fuck me right here, make me feel good and cry your name. Please, Joel, just stop teasing me and give it to me.” You sob and gasp, gripping at his forearms as he takes his sweet time by breaching your entrance.

“Nnugh!” Joel whimpers, his teeth gritting from the tightness of your canal. Eyes closing to relish every passing second of him pushing inside, the first thrust is always the most enjoyable and the man just simply wanted to drag it out as long as possible. He’s slow, beautifully fucking slow with his actions, making you feel every vein, ridge and inch until he finally bottoms out with his balls literally pressed against your ass.

“God dammit.” Grunting from the constriction around him, he lowers his forehead to your shoulder and breathes through the powerfully pleasurable sensation. “So much better than I dreamed, darlin’. You’re so warm.” His broken voice croaks into your neck.

“Joel, please - move.” You beg after a few moments adjusting to his size. It felt a little uncomfortable at first, he is bigger than your previous partners, but now that you relax around him, the pleasure rises with insatiable need. You feel so full, completely full in the most beautiful way. Joel hooks his arms under your legs then lifts you off the counter with ease, just emphasising even more how strong he is.

Using the globes of your ass for leverage, he begins lifting you up, leaving only the tip of him inside before sinking you back down again, still keeping to a beautifully slow pace. You tilt your head and rest your cheek to his shoulder, breathing broken moans into his neck while taking every grinding thrust he gives. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the size of him was pleasing and breath-taking, exhausting.

“Fuck. Keep squeezing me, babydoll.” Joel babbles, then buries his face into your neck again, this time planting kisses to your skin. Only after he had marked up your neck with a satisfying amount of love bites, he then kissed your lips, swallowing all your mewling whimpers.

Opening your eyes upon feeling him toss his head back with a grunting moan of your name, you look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse of yourself in a full body mirror by the door and the sight pushes you over the edge. Joel made you look petite, holding you in his mighty strong arms, while fucking you senseless.

His size difference is what drove you to orgasm.

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