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#that's how i hear david complaining about this
crazyk-imagine · 3 days
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Hi, I was thinking Jacob Black x Reader. Where Jacob was waiting for Reader to come out of school till he heard commotion in front of the school and saw Reader fighting a bully who is a guy. She has a bruised lip and bleeding nose. Jacob hurriedly pick up Reader and take her to Emily’s so she can chill out and so Emily can patch her up. The pack saw her and they started asking questions till Emily started lecturing her.
Jealousy and Pack Scolding's
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Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader
Characters: Jacob Black
Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot, Sam not liking the imprinting, this was actually kind of cute, I think I made Jake a likable character (for me), Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, reader has avoided making eye contact with Jake bc she has a crush, Sam knows whats up, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, it's so much fun
Word Count: 2,431
A/N: Ask and you shall receive... this was fun and totally not inspired by Jake fics where he's a little jealous shit
I've aged probably everyone sooo, Sam is 26, Emily is 25. Leah is 23. Jared and Paul are 19 (in a nearby community college) and just one semester from graduating. Jake, Reader and Embry are 18. Quil, Seth, Brody are 17. Cam and Seth are 16
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He kicks his bike stand up, so it stays upright while he waits for you to exit the school. He crosses his arms, not wanting anyone to talk to him, hoping he looks “menacing” enough for his classmates to get the hint and steer clear of him.
He knows Quil and Embry made their way back to Emily's since Sam wants them to do their patrol shift as soon as they can once they finished with their last class.
He couldn't complain much considering he was able to go home and change before heading back to pick you up so he could successfully switch shifts with Embry, which annoys him since Sam basically ordered him to pick you up.
He’d be more okay with it if you two were friends- or even talking; he doesn’t know why he was put to the job since you two aren’t close- or at least, compared to Jared and Paul.
Jake did recently find out (after complaining to the guys when their alpha wasn’t around) you’re Sam's niece and Emily has taken a light to you, thinking of you as her own daughter.
And the only reason he thinks that is because of how she treats you; it always reminds him of the way his mom took care of him and his sisters when they were younger.
Don't get him wrong, he has no problem with that or the way she treats you, he's more curious than anything since you haven't been talking to him.
It kind of bugs him that you talk to Paul and Jared more than him and isn't sure why. He gets the two shifted before everyone, but you've started talking to Embry and Quil so why not him too? Hell, you’ve even started making small talk with the newest shifters Brody and Cam.
He thinks this is why Sam sent him here, so he'll stop moping around about you and not just because the pack is tired of hearing how sad he is with you not talking to him.
The chanting, "fight, fight, fight," overtakes his sense in waiting for you and he steps closer.
He stops behind the wall of people, checking on who's fighting, curious as to who's stupid enough to fight on school property.
The fist flies to your face and he starts fighting his way to get past the people blocking him from getting to you.
You spit, not wanting the copper taste to remain in your mouth. You turn your head back to David, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of feeling like he won.
You kick his upper thigh, right above his knee and knock him down before pulling your arm back and drive your fist as hard as you can into his cheek.
He falls and cups his cheek, whining about the pain and the fact that he's bleeding.
"Talk about my family again and you'll be bleeding more."
Jacob finally breaks through the crowd and pushes David's friend away before the guy could grab you. "Back off," he growls.
The friend raises his hands in defense and backs away, noticing how buff he'd gotten and knows better to not fight Jacob.
He turns to you, smelling blood on you and cups your face, searching to find the damage, ignoring your eyes as the blood from your lip drips further down your chin. "Come on."
He puts you on the back of his bike and starts it before kicking the kickstand.
-
You unwrap your arms and get off the bike, trying to put distance between you, Jacob, and your home.
He grabs your wrist, "where do you think you're going?"
"Away."
"Just because you want to hide your face from Emily and Sam, doesn't mean you can run away."
"I can still try." You tug on his arm. "Let me go."
"No, you need to go in there and face them."
You stop fighting and he lets go of you, trusting that you won't leave. "I don't want Sam to be disappointed."
"Did you pick a fight with David on purpose?"
You shake your head, "of course not."
"Then he won't be disappointed... as long as you talk to him."
"Says the guy who fights him every chance he gets."
That earns a chuckle from Jake. "Says the mousy niece."
You scoff, shoving his arm. "Hey, I'm not mousy."
"This is the longest conversation we've ever had."
"That's your fault, you're always mopey."
"I am not."
"Are so."
"Am"- You walk through the door.
Emily's voice interrupts yours and everyone else's conversations. "I'm happy to see the two of you are talking." She smiles with a twinkle shining in her eye that quickly dies as soon as she catches sight of your face.
"Oh my- what the hell happened to you?" She grabs your chin, tilting so she can look at your face. "Who did this?"
Paul tenses, Jared tries to see over her shoulder.
Embry and Quil walk through the back door and glance at one another with concern evident on their faces once they realize what’s happened.
"Don't tell, Sam," you reply, staring into her eyes, practically begging her not to tell him.
"Don't tell me what?"
You grimace and then wince because your adrenaline has worn off and the pain has surfaced. "How much I love you?" You say without turning.
"I don't buy it." He wraps an arm around Emily, pecking her cheek. "Did you cut your finger again?" He asks with the scent of blood wafting through the room.
"Uh-" She catches your eye as she glances down at her hands. "Maybe, I don't know."
You attempt to sneak away while he's distracted and fail.
"Turn around."
You pout, keeping your head low as you turn.
"Lift your head."
"I like staring at my shoes while they're clean."
He grumbles your name under his breath.
You lift your head and sigh. "I may have gotten into an altercation at school."
"What the hell happened?"
"That's what I was asking before you got here?" Emily chimes in. "And I was avoiding it then."
"What did you do?"
You scoff, "I didn't do anything, you dick."
"That is no way to talk to your uncle," she tells you.
You stare at her, "I'm going to give him the same respect he gives me," and turn to him. "Which is none."
You exit the room when you realize none of you are going to be able to have a proper conversation and make your way to your room, slamming the door behind you.
-
"What happened while you were waiting for her?" Sam towers over Jacob, attempting to search through his mind to figure out what could have happened.
"I don't- I don't know. I was waiting and then I heard the other kids chanting, fight and then I saw her get hit and then take down David-"
"Wait- she was fighting David?" Jared chimes in with a smile.
"He deserves it," Paul adds.
"Guys a grade A asshole," Embry says before snacking on a muffin.
"So, this fight was valid?" Sam asks, wanting to understand everything he's learned within the last five minutes.
"No, it wasn't valid because fighting isn't the solution, is it boys?" Emily turns to the boys at the table.
"No," everyone answers.
"Good," she smiles.
"But this hasn't happened before? What's happened? This David- or whoever clearly said something for her to act out."
"He was talking about my family," you tell them, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.
"That doesn't give you enough reason to fight," she tells you.
"It does when they start making fun of your dead parents and uncle who's running a cult."
They purse their lips.
"How do you feel?"
You shrug, "my fist and face are aching, so I'd say I did something right."
She sighs. "Fighting isn't the answer."
"I know that!"
"Then why did you do it?"
Your emotions cause you to snap. "I was tired of him thinking he could still bully me!"
She takes a few steps closer to you. "This has been going on for a while now. Why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't want either of you to walk into the principal's office thinking you could stop it when it'd only make things worse," you grumble.
"We could have found another way to stop him from making comments."
"I took care of it the only way I could."
"There's always more than one way-"
"I know," you run your fingers through your hair in a frustrated manner. "I wasn't thinking but he wouldn't shut up. He waited a few months, giving me a grievance period but then he started talking shit again and today he wouldn't leave me alone."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Jared asks.
"Yeah," you scoff, "because I wanted you guys to help when the hothead is one fight away from being expelled. Everyone still thinks those two," you point to Embry and Quil. "Are weird because they suddenly got buff and had a haircut. Don't even mention the fact that Jake along with Brody and Cam are the new talk of the pack."
Sam sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just, go clean the blood off as best you can, and Emily will wrap your wounds."
"I already did."
"Then go get the first aid kit and bring it in here."
You walk back into the bathroom throwing everything you’d laid out on the counter back into the bag and aim for the kitchen. "Heal me with your magical powers, Em."
She smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders as she guides you to the island so she can use the natural light to check over you. "Does this hurt?"
"Not yet."
"Okay, let me know when it-"
You suck in a deep breath through your teeth.
"Hurts. You okay?"
"Peachy, Em."
"I know you had to defend yourself today, but fighting isn't always the answer."
"Yeah, I know," you reply with an attitude.
"I'm just reminding you, so you don't continue hurting yourself. You're not like the others, and I don't like seeing you get hurt."
"Thanks, Emily," you wrap your arms around her and pull her in for a long hug.
She smiles, returning the hug. "Don't go getting into fights again or else I'm going to bubble wrap you."
You chuckle. "As long as you save me from a Sam lecture."
"Deal." She slides the plate with muffins, closer to you. "Eat something first."
The guys shake their heads at your behavior.
"Does this mean I can hang out with you guys?"
"You hang out with us already," Jacob points out.
"Cliff diving." You unwrap your muffin.
"Absolutely not," your uncle tells you.
"Come on."
"No,” Sam shakes his head.
"Guys," you beg, turning around to look at the others.
"We're not getting involved in that," Paul raises his hands, heading towards the couch.
- Extra -
"Wha-"
"I'm with Paul," Embry tells you, pulling Quil with him as they sit beside Jared.
You turn to face your knight in shining armor. “Jake-”
He turns away from the others and glances back at you, the humor falling from his face.
“Oh, shit,” Jared mutters.
“Are you serious?” Embry whines.
You owlishly blink trying to figure out what’s happened when he falls to his knees. You set your muffin down and push yourself off the stool to stand in front of him. You poke his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“It’s you,” he mutters.
You raise your head and face the others with a scared and confused expression. “Guys, what the hell just happened?”
Paul smirks and looks away.
Jared buries his face with a muffin.
Embry and Quil face the tv, not wanting to see how things plays out.
Brody and Cam walk through the door.
“Holy shit,” the former says.
“Congrats, Jake. You finally got your imprint,” the latter adds.
“What?” You spin around to face Emily. “Imprint? That’s what just happened?”
Sam rubs a hand over his face. This was the last thing they needed.
“Did we- did you not know?” Brody asks you.
“Does this look like the face of someone who’s in the know? Does it. Brody?”
Cam pulls his buddy away before you can rip their heads off.
“I think we need to talk,” Sam says, pulling Jacob off the ground. “Outside.”
You three stand on the porch, trying to wrap your heads around the whole situation.
-
“I don’t know what this means,” you tell them.
“This means, no being alone in your room. No sneaking out after curfew. No-”
“Sam, we’re not dating. This doesn’t apply to us.”
“It could,” he says, finally snapping out of his mind.
“What?”
“It- the imprint bond doesn’t happen by accident, it’s the joining of when two soulmates find each other.”
“So, we’re soulmates?”
He nods.
“I thought you were in love with Bella?”
“I was.”
“And now you’re not? You couldn’t have moved on that fast just because of this bond.”
He sighs, “I know this is going to be a lot of work, but I want to get to know you whether we go out or not… even though dating you-”
The clearing of someone’s throat cuts him off.
He sheepishly smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ll talk more later.”
You can’t help but giggle and wince soon after.
He’s kneeling in front of you in seconds, searching for any sign of pain. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. My lip is going to be the kill joy of my existence for a few days but I’m fine.” You place a hand on his shoulder, “thanks for pulling me out of there when you did.”
He shakes his head, “it was nothing.”
“It was more than you know, and I know you were only there because Uncle Sam made you, but I still wanted to thank you.”
He can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his lips. “I’ll always be there for you.”
-
Sam throws you over his shoulder. “Babe, where’s the extra wood I keep for the winter?”
“Back room, why?” She asks, watching as you beat on his back.
“I’m locking some doors.”
“Sam, no!” You screech. “Boys, help me.”
“He’s the alpha, what he says go,” Paul tells you.
“You suck, Lahote.”
“You’re gonna be swallowing, princess.”
Paul has never shifted and ran out of his alpha’s place as quickly as he did today.
The others lose their minds as he runs all around, nearly bumping into the clearwater siblings as they head towards the place.
-
Tag list (if you'd like to be added or removed, don't hesitate to ask)
@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13
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6lostgirl6 · 1 year
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could u do something for the lost boys with a cute and innocent gf? maybe like cat valentine or sumthin
Ingénue
Pairing: Poly!Lost Boys x Innocent!Reader
TW: small mention of sexual innuendos, hints of possessive behavior.
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You are the exact opposite of the group of vampires and they found the striking difference to be extremely attractive.
While they were clad in haunting dark colors and leather, you sported outfits that were decorated in floral patterns and pastel colors.
They were very surprised that you weren't apprehensive of them when you all met the first time.
You simply smiled sweetly with doe-like eyes and engaging in conversation with them without a care.
They knew that they had to keep you for themselves. That selfish need that consumed them prevented them from letting you go until you were offically theirs.
Your relationship with them turn heads when you all visit the boardwalk.
The image of a sweet girl spending time with a bunch of trouble-makers left many people thinking that the world was ending.
You are practically their bright and shining star that has blessed them with your love and sweetness.
Whenever a surfer nazi bothers you, they immediately are on the defensive.
Marko has no trouble starting a fight with them to get them to leave you alone.
You're theirs.
They love the sound of your voice, high-tuned that reminded them of bells.
You don't understand sexual innuendos and jokes and Dwayne slaps Paul when he tries to explain it.
David pretends he doesn't like your style and wants you to dress darker but it's only because he can't handle how delectable you look.
Dwayne has a silent yet expressive fascination with your outfits.
Whenever he would see you wearing ruffles and lace, he would quietly and gently grab the fabric and play with it with his fingers.
Paul loves the sound of your laugh and will constantly make jokes to hear it.
He also loves your expressive gestures because he does the same thing and the boys used to tease him about it.
Whenever Paul sees you dressed in bright colors, he playfully hisses and shields his eyes, yelling, "Too bright!"
Marko appreciates fashion, given that his jacket is handmade, he likes learning about your style.
Marko, the artist, has hundreds of sketches of you in your different outfits.
Every night is a new outfit, he never sees you wear the same one twice and teases if you have those specially delivered or something.
"No I made them! (^w^) ♡" You would say.
You created matching bead bracelets consisting of pastels and you all wear them. Despite, David complaining.
"Ew, what is this?" "A bracelet, I can take it back..." "No, it's mine, fuck off."
When you discover their secret, you were understanding, but had so many questions.
"Does garlic hurt? Does the sun kill you? Can you turn into a bat? Bats are so cute!!"
Your bond with them would be even tighter with them.
At times, your innocence triggers their vampiric instincts which they try desperately to control.
You're their mate, yet their instincts scream at them to pin you down and consume you in a primal urge to claim.
Best to stay away from them when they're starving or going through heat.
Spam Liking = Blocked
Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @pixielostboy @britany1997 @brattyloserprincess16 @blenna3967
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humanityinahandbag · 9 months
Text
Steddie: Wayne the Matchmaker (Part 1?)
Wayne wasn't born yesterday.
He knows full well that his nephew, his boy, is far gone for the Harrington kid. Knows it in the way he sighs, the way he drapes himself over the couch. Knows it in the way lyrics pour out of Eddie's room while he tries to write songs (just last Tuesday he heard Eddie muttering goddammit what rhymes with chest hair from behind his bedroom door).
So it isn't much of a surprise to see Eddie swooning quietly by the front door as he shoves his feet into ratty sneakers, a red car waiting in the driveway. Government hush money had been enough for Wayne to take less shifts, to put some away for Eddie's future, and to buy a modest one floor ranch house on a tree lined street closer to his boy's new friends.
Including the one currently walking carefully around the newly planted posies towards the front door.
"You seein' that Harrington boy again?" he asks.
Eddie's face went pink, and he ducked down pretending to look through his backpack for something. "Yeah," he says behind a curtain of hair. "We're going to the movies."
"S'nice. What are you seein'?"
"Uh, the new David Bowie thing. Labyrinth."
Wayne ignores how Eddie phrases it, like he hadn't been bouncing off the walls to see that little David Bowie Thing when the posters first showed up outside Melvalds. "Doesn't much seem his taste. He choose it?"
"Yeah, he-" Eddie stops and looks up. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't do that," Eddie says, fixing his Uncle with a frosty stare. "I know what you're doing, and we're just- we're friends. He's- he likes his ex. You should see them, honestly. They're like, perfect together. Dream couple." As if Wayne didn't hear the sorrow behind his tone.
"Mmmhm," says Wayne. "You sure?"
Eddie didn't get a chance to rebuttal when the door was knocked. Wayne opens it before he could.
"Hi, sir." Always polite this one. Steve's wearing a polo shirt and light wash jeans. It all looks newly pressed. And if he breathes in- yup. That's definitely cologne. "Uh, I'm here for Eddie?"
"Yeah, he's here. You wanna come in-"
"He doesn't." Eddie pops out from behind the door, glaring over his shoulder at Wayne. "C'mon, Stevie! We'll miss the previews!"
"Bye, Mr. Munson!" Steve calls over his shoulder. He grabs Eddie by the back of the collar, tugging him backwards, laughing and racing him to the car.
And well. This just wouldn't do.
-
Wayne never pretended to know a whole lot about love. He'd had his flings back in the day, but life had given him more curveballs than he'd been able to catch at once.
Not that he was complaining. Eddie was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.
But dammit if he didn't want the kid falling down the same hole he had.
Eddie deserves love. And Wayne figures that a few gentle nudges wouldn't hurt.
-
It starts with simple suggestion.
The next time Steve is at the front door, Wayne makes sure to distract Eddie with a well timed, "fix your hair," that had him scrambling for the bathroom, leaving Wayne alone with the Harrington boy.
"Steve," he says.
"Mr. Munson! Nice to see you. Um, we're just going to the arcade-"
"He likes sticky hands."
Steve blinks. "Sorry?"
"If you're gonna win him anything, get him one'a those sticky hands. It'll be hell on me, but he loves'm."
Steve nods, like it was precious information, perking up when Eddie breaks out of the bathroom.
When they get back, Eddie is considerably pinker, slapping everything around the house with a stupid pink sticky hand on a string.
"Steve won it for me," he says, as if daring Wayne to take it away.
Wayne only cracks another beer.
-
(He tells himself over and over that this is for the pursuit of love, even when he wants to shove Eddie out a window the fourth time a very sticky hand thwacks him on the back of his bald head.)
-
"He likes sunflowers," Wayne says the next time he sees Steve, which just so happens to be a week before graduation. Steve had arrived with a cake. A cake he baked. From scratch. Eddie had run to get his camera to take a picture and that was when Wayne got his chance.
Steve looks up at Wayne owlishly. "Sorry?"
"Sunflowers," Wayne repeats. "If you get him flowers for graduation, that's what he likes."
Steve nods seriously, brow drawn in thought. "Cool," he says finally. "Sunflowers."
Eddie gets sunflowers for graduation. He presses one of the petals between the pages of The Hobbit.
"Still think he's just a friend?" Wayne asks from the doorway.
Eddie traces the petal and closes the book. "It's enough," he says.
Wayne gives his nephew a long look. "You're allowed to like him."
"I know."
"No. You're allowed to like him," Wayne says again. "Like him like you like him."
Eddie stares at the petal. "I know," he says. And then; "I love him."
"I know," says Wayne and bundles Eddie into a hug.
-
Wayne gets to a point where he could gnaw through the walls of their new home, which he won't do, because Claudia Henderson chose the wallpaper and chewing on furniture is mostly frowned upon. But by god does he want to.
Wherever Eddie is, Steve follows. He appears at their front door to take Eddie on hikes. When he heard Eddie never learned to swim, he takes him to the quarry and Eddie comes back damp and flushed and Wayne guesses it has something to do with the shirtless boy in the driveway.
And yet through it all, Eddie doesn't see.
He doesn't see the long looks or the careful touches. Doesn't grasp the meaning behind Steve appearing one night with a bag of groceries and a smile and an announcement of I'm cooking you dinner! before making the best damn lasagne Wayne's ever had.
Instead, Eddie fawns and sighs and does everything he can to make Steve happy. Dotes and compliments and builds him up until Steve is red and spluttering and beaming.
Eddie is a good boy. Wayne raised a good boy, who loves fiercely and wholly, but somehow didn't think he was worth the same trouble.
And. Well. That just wouldn't do.
-
Wayne wants time to come up with some kind of a plan, but fate was a sporadic fucking asshole and chose for him. Which is how Wayne finds himself answering the phone on a Thursday to hear Steve's voice on the other line.
"Mr. Munson?"
"Steve. Eddie ain't home. He's at band practice."
"Oh," Steve says. "Right, uh. Can you tell him that I called?"
Wayne thinks a moment. "I can," he says, slowly. "But first, I'd like to talk to you."
A long pause. He can practically hear Steve sweating on the other line. "Me?"
"You," says Wayne. "S'only that you've been here an awful lot lately. Eddie's taken a real shine to you. You know that?"
"He's one of my closest friends, Mr. Munson."
"Mmmhm. An' I'm glad for him. But I don't mean like that."
He hears Steve suck in a breath on the other end. "Oh."
"Not that it's any of my business, an' maybe these old eyes are seein' things, but I catch you lookin' from time to time. Then again, I'm just an' old man-"
"You're not that old," Steve says. "And. Your eyes work great. Probably better than mine."
Good first step. Buttering up the parents.
"So. Just so we're on the same page, Mr. Munson. Eddie told me that you know about him. That he likes. Um. Yunno."
"Men."
"Yeah," says Steve, relieved. "Yeah, men, right. And so I was thinking the other day that I'm a man!"
"So you are," says Wayne.
"And it came to my attention a few months ago that people can like both. Which is- which is crazy. But I guess it's not so crazy. I used to work in an ice cream store and people would order the weirdest combos. Like... strawberry and pistachio? And I'd say, you can't like both! But then Robin told me I could."
"Steve."
"Right. So anyway. I've been spending all this time with Eddie. But I wasn't really sure. I mean, he can like men. But that doesn't mean he'd like my type of man. That I am. Man-wise."
Wayne hums. "And if I told you he did like your type of man? Man wise?"
"I'd probably ask if he liked Italian or Chinese, sir."
Outside Wayne can hear Eddie's van rolling back down the street. "He likes lo mein. No onions."
"Okay," breathes Steve.
"And even if he looks like an angry alley cat, the boy likes romance. You hear me, son? Candles, flowers, showin' up at windows."
"I can do that," says Steve. "I'm great at romance."
Eddie's car rolls into the driveway and Wayne looks out the window, waving to Eddie as he cuts the engine and the music and steps out. His boy stops to carefully step over the flowers first, waving back.
His good boy, who pours love out until he's empty and never complains. He deserves to have it poured back.
"You're welcome anytime, Steve," says Wayne earnestly. "Anyone who makes my boy as happy as he is- you're welcome anytime."
Eddie walks in as Wayne hangs up. "Who was that?"
Wayne tugs him into a hug. "No one," he says. And then, "go shower. You smell like Gareth's garage."
"Like a goddamn rockstar, you mean?" Eddie ducks away from a swat and laughs, running down the hall.
Like a kid in love, Wayne thinks, and turns on the game.
-
With ao3 being down (pour one out, I'm donating my life savings once they're back up) I got feral enough to write a one shot on here. I can't update my other Wayne Matchmaker fic. So. Yunno. This will have to do for now.
Does this need a part 2? You tell me.
LONGER, EDITED VERSION NOW ON AO3!
(IF I POST A PART 2 IT WILL BE THERE :D)
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mrwavellswaps · 10 months
Text
The Principal’s Solution
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When Mr Everett was called into the principal’s office to have a one on one meeting, this was the last thing he’d been expecting. “You’re firing me!?”
“David that’s not what I’m—” Principal Bryant was cut off before he could finish.
“What is it? Budget cuts? Because I sure as hell know I haven’t done anything to warrant this? I’ve worked for this school for years! I’ve never even had so much as a sick day!” David rambled on justifiably. After all he couldn’t see a single reason why they wouldn’t want him working as an English teacher here anymore.
Finally however, the Principal put an end to David’s ranting. “Mr Everett! Listen to me! You are not fired! If you had let me finish I was going to say that you’ll be relieved of your current position so that you may take a new one.”
David was a little confused upon hearing this. “What… like a promotion?” He asked, prompting him to wonder if Mrs Freeman, the current head of the English department, had finally decided to retire after spending an eternity here.
“Sort of. Though it’s probably not what you’re imagining right now.” Principal Bryant sighed. “Look. As you know we’ve been low on gym teachers at the school for a while now and with Mr Riggs leaving at the end of next week we’ll be done to only one proper gym teacher. That’s why I���ve decided to move you from the English department over to the Gym department.”
“W-what??” This hadn’t been what David was expecting at all. Moving from English to teach Gym instead? “But sir I’m not a Gym teacher. I teach English! I can’t just switch!”
“Oh come on, of course you can. The English department has plenty of teachers and trainee’s already. I’m sure it’ll do just fine without you.”
David squinted over at Principal Bryant, not believing that his superior couldn’t see the very clear issue with this suggestion. “What?! No, I mean that I have absolutely no idea how to teach a gym class! Hell, I haven't picked up a ball since I was a student. How the hell do you expect me to teach a whole class??” He complained and rightly so. From his point of view this decision seemed completely illogical. “Surely there’s someone else far better suited for this!”
Principal Bryant simply smiled across his desk with a strange glint in his eye that David couldn’t decipher. “Don’t worry Mr Everett. I already have a plan that’ll help you get perfectly settled in with your new position. Soon it’ll be like you never taught English at all.” He chuckled, confusing David en further yet also slightly peaking his interest. “As for the reason I chose you specifically… well you’ve already said it yourself. You’ve never once taken a sick day and you’re always on schedule, if not ahead of it. That’s the kind of dedication I’m looking for in the Gym department.”
Before David had the chance to question his boss any further, Principal Bryant jumped up from his desk with a look on his face that was hard to describe. He seemed excited as whipped open one of the desk draws and pulled out a laptop. The Principal flipped the laptop open and began tapping away, occasionally glancing up at David with an almost lustful smirk. It was a look David had grown all too familiar with over the years. He’d suspected for a long time now that Principal Bryant had a thing for him but he’d never spoken up about it in case he had the wrong impression. But the look he’d received just now, the glint of desire in his boss’ eyes as he glanced up at him, was unmistakable.
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“Sir I-” David was cut off before he could speak.
“Ah here it is!” Bryant exclaimed before quickly spinning the laptop so that it faced the couch David was sitting on. “Now Mr Everett. I know you might have some doubts and concerns about this change but this training video I’ve put together should be more than enough to ease your worries. Now if you just sit back and relax for me, we can get started!” He said with a reassuring yet somewhat devious smile.
Once again David hardly had any time to protest before his boss clicked play on the video before moving out of the way. What he was greeted with was a purple and gold hypnotic spiral spinning at a swift pace. Going round and round in fashion so captivating that David couldn’t bring himself to look away. The spiral was just so alluring, so gorgeous to look at that the rest of the world around him just seemed to fall away. He didn’t even take notice of the Principal sitting back at his desk to watch what was about to unfold firsthand.
After about 3 minutes or so a voice began speaking to David through the video…
*Welcome to your one way trip from being a regular ol’ English teacher to becoming a strong and confident Gym teacher that your students and colleagues alike can look up to! My name is Mr Wavell and I’ll be guiding you through this experience.*
The masculine voice spoke with a warm soothing tone which helped to relax David even further, readying his body and mind for what was to come.
*Now let’s get started shall we David? Of course, being an English teacher, you should already know that having the right education and qualifications for the job is essential for becoming a teacher in any area. So let’s get that sorted shall we?*
David didn’t even flinch at how this video seemed to be addressing him directly. He simply continued to focus on the voice as the spiral continued to swirl in a 3D like manner. As if it were reaching out to him and pushing inside his brain.
*Of course we’ve gotta make some room for all these new memories and experiences so…*
It would’ve been impossible to describe what exactly he was feeling right now. It was like something reaching deep into his mind and sifting through his memories until it found what it was looking for. David’s mouth hung open a little as any memories he had of learning English at an advanced level past high school and training to become and English teacher were yanked right out of his head, setting his knowledge of the subject back to a much more basic level.
*Annnnd now to replace them with the proper ones.*
One cue David could feel his mind being stuffed with new memories. Ones where he’d taken basic and later advanced classes in subjects like sports studies and physical education until eventually becoming certified to teach to Gym. Even though these memories were seemingly fabricated, they felt so incredibly real that David found it hard to tell the difference.
*Good! We’re already on the right track it seems. Now all that advanced English mumbo jumbo is gone, you’re already well on your way to becoming a great Gym teacher. But of course what good is all your new knowledge on teaching sports and physical health if you’re not practicing what you teach? Let’s change that shall we?*
More and more memories to push their way inside David’s brain. Forced out were his memories of reading in his spare time and going to book conventions, replaced by memories of him going to a football club and running around a field with a bunch of other dudes throwing a ball back and forth while tackling each other to the ground. He could’ve sworn he’d never been that keen on sports and yet he looked back on memories of kicking a soccer ball around with some mates in his free time very fondly. Suddenly he could recall having played tons of different sporting activities and having loved all of them! He would even watch sports on the TV late in the evening all the time. He couldn’t imagine why he thought for even a second that he didn’t like sports. It was his entire life!
Principal Bryan watched on in astonishment from behind his desk as these mental changes also began to take a rather physical effect on David as well. David had of course always been a rather average guy physically. Having very little muscle on his frame and a small belly. However that soon began to change as any fat on his body started melting away after countless hours of playing sports. In its place some lean muscle began to grow, giving him a physique that reflected great physical health and allowing the suit David was wearing to fit his body in a much more flattering way. Upon witnessing this little transformation, the Principal couldn’t help rubbing his bulge underneath the desk. Completely enthralled by what the video was doing to David.
*Good, good. You’re already looking more and more like a man who’s ready to coach a bunch of jocks. But surely a man like you spends a lot of his time working out in the gym as well right? Lifting weights, Drinking protein shakes. You must’ve put on some noticeable muscle from all that.*
David nodded along to everything he was hearing as he started to remember spending a fair bit of his free time at the gym so he could pump up his muscles, once again causing a ripple effect in the real world. His suit began to feel tighter by the second as his muscles grew even bigger, stretching the fabric of his button down and khaki pants. Biceps threatening to tear his sleeves, almost as much as his pecs threatened to pop the top buttons on his shirt. Thighs thickening into trunks of muscle while his ass swelled up until his pants looked as though they were painted on. Seeing this, the principal had already unzipped his own pants and was jerking over his employee’s transformation.
*That’s it… Looking like a proper example of physical health already. But let’s add a dash of extra manliness to the body of yours shall we? After all, as a coach you’ve also got to serve as a pillar of masculinity at the school for everyone to look up to.*
A shiver traveled across David’s entire body as the next change took place. The small amount of body hair he had before increased as the hair on his arms and legs multiplied. Spreading up across his stomach and chest until he had a thick pelt of manly hair covering his body. However this change was largely unseen by the two men, besides a little chest hair poking out of David’s collar, due to his suit. Though it was impossible to miss David’s sudden growth of facial hair right after, his short beard growing thicker than before! Principal Bryant had always thought David would look hotter with a beard and damn was he right. However there was one last change that the Principal only noticed when David started shifting uncomfortably in his chair a little. His bulge was growing bigger. David was trying to adjust himself because his cock and balls were growing fatter!
*Now how about you show off some of those new improvements to your boss? Take off that tight button down you’re wearing David. I just know a man like you must hate wearing suits anyway.*
“Yeah… I hate suits…” David muttered to himself before practically ripping his shirt open, popping a few of the buttons in the process. The Principal’s eyes bulged at the mere sight of it, getting to see David’s hairy muscular pecs on full display now. “What do you think sir?” He asked his boss in a very monotone yet noticeably deeper voice followed up by him flexing and bouncing his pecs a little.
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Bryant hadn’t realised just how personalised this video had been made. He knew that Mr Wavell guy was good but he didn’t realise he was this good. “Y-yes Mr Everett. You look great! Better than great even. You’re so hairy and… just wow. You look even hotter than before!” He was lost for words. Hardly being able to believe the hairy stud before him was the same man he’d watched from afar ever since hiring him. He couldn’t stop jerking his cock under the desk like a perv, leaking pre-cum while David flexed his arms a little to show off his biceps and hairy pits.
*I have no doubt Mr Bryant is enjoying the show right now but we’ve still got a few more things to do David. Next we’ve got to fix those clothes of yours. After all, what kind of Gym teacher wears brown loafers and suit pants?*
David nodded along, agreeing with everything the voice was telling him as his clothes began to change. The aforementioned loafers were first to be affected. They rippled slightly as the colour began to change, lightening from brown to slightly dirty white as the fabric started to alter. Laces formed on the top while the soles of the shoes became more padded. Before long David adorned a fresh pair white sneakers while his long black socks shrunk away into worn white ankle socks.
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During this Principal Bryant leaned over his desk a little to get a better look at what was going on. He would’ve been more surprised at sudden change in footwear had he not just witnessed David bulk up in front of his very eyes mere moments ago. Instead Bryant watched on in curiosity as even David himself looked down to watch as his black suit pants were about to undergo a change of their own.
The belt had already evaporated into thin air while the cotton fabric of the pants was amidst transitioning into polyester. The colour began lightening significantly while the pants legs retracted, showing off more of David’s hairy calves by the second. Soon enough they’d shortened all the way up above his knees, showing off a good portion of David’s strong manly legs, while having gone from being black to light grey. Finally leaving the man with a suitable pair of shorts for his new job.
Bryant figured that must’ve been it until he noticed the discarded button down shirt wriggling a little. Sewing itself together, retracting the sleeves completely and altering its colour like everything else until all that was left was a blue tank top.
*There we go! Now you really look the part. I’d say you’re pretty much ready for your position now! All that’s left is make sure your loyalty to this job also translates to your boss Mr Bryant.*
The Principal was surprised to hear that. He hadn’t asked Mr Wavell to add this part but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the sound of it! Meanwhile David was sat having more orders and memories pushed into his mind. Orders to always do exactly as Principal Bryant asks no matter what. To serve him loyally as both an employee and a boyfriend. To be either as submissive or dominant as Bryant wanted him to be. In turn, memories then also began surfacing of David having dated the Principal for over a year now with the two even living together.
*Perfect. Now nobody will bat an eye when they see the two of you together in public. And with that I think your training to become the perfect Gym teacher for this school is complete! Bigger, manlier, more confident and completely subservient to your boss and now partner. I’d say my work here is done wouldn’t you?*
David once again simply nodded along with everything the voice told him, completely entranced.
*Now, this video is going to end momentarily and when it does you’ll believe you’ve always been the way you are now. A hairy sports loving gym coach. And you’re going to love every second of it. Thank you for listening and I hope Mr Bryant back there is pleased with the progress we’ve made today.*
With that the spiral faded and the video finished. David blinked a few times in confusion, glancing around the office and down at himself, trying to recall why exactly he was here again. “Sir… why did you call me in here again? And why am I shirtless?” He wondered, reaching for the discarded tank top.
“Leave it off.” Bryant responded quickly and to his delight David didn’t even question the order. He simply tossed the tank top back on the couch beside him. “Now uhhhh… I called you to um… tell you how good of a job you’ve been doing recently! As one of our few gym teachers you really put the most into your lessons. It’s very inspiring.” He praised the shirtless hunk before him.
David smirked, getting up from the couch and taking a few steps closer to the desk. “Oh come on, you don’t need to butter me up. If you called me in here for some fun then you just say so.” He leaned over the desk, soon quirking an eyebrow as he noticed his boss jerking his cock under it. “Mmmm looks like you already started without me.”
Bryant’s face went bright red but David didn’t seem at all phased. If anything he seemed turned on judging by how he grabbed his crotch through his new gym shorts. God it was weird! David really did believe they were boyfriends now… and he should be completely subservient according to that video. “Haha yeah I just couldn’t help myself. You’re just such a hunk David. How about you uhhh… show me just how much of a hunk you are? Flex for me again and show me why exactly the two of us are together.” He suggested, testing the waters a little.
To the principal’s delight, David did exactly as he was told. He placed one hand on his hip before tossing the other arm up into a strong bicep flex, smirking cockily as he did. He extended his arm out a couple times before bringing it back in to really show how the muscle bulged and peaked. After which he proceeded to do the same with his other arm. Flexing the bulging muscle for his boyfriend without a care in the world. And once he’d finished with his arms he moved down to his chest, grabbing at his hairy pecs a little before bouncing them as well. Showing just how large and meaty they were. He even turned around and did a double bicep pose to really show off the muscle in his back as well. But the part that really made Principal Bryant drool was when David stuck his tongue out while pulling down the back of his shorts to reveal not only his furry ass but also the fact that his underwear had also morphed into a jockstrap! “This is all for you daddy. It might be my body but you own it.” David stated.
“Well in that case, why don’t you get over here so I can smell those sweaty pits of yours.” Bryant found himself growing more confident with his commands and once again David obeyed without question. Walking around his boss’ desk and kneeling down slightly before raising up one of his arms to reveal one of his hairy pits. The principal wasted no time, shoving his nose deep into that armpit before inhaling generously. The scent was strong and musky due to the sweat David had produced during his transformation. Pungent even. But Bryant fucking loved it! He’d been dreaming of sniffing David’s pits for ages and now that he had the chance they smelt even manlier than ever before! He pulled out of one pit before ordering David to show him the other one. The scent of them being just so intoxicating. And to think he’d be able to smell these pits whenever he wanted from now on! “Fuck those smell good… you’ll need to let me sniff them again when we get home later.” He pulled away from musky pits only to give David’s pecs a quick grope, loving how soft the hairy muscle could be when relaxed.
“Of course sir. My smelly pits are yours to sniff whenever you please. I’ll even jog home later to make myself even sweatier instead of driving back with you if you’d prefer that.” David suggested while Bryant ran his tongue along one of the hairy pits, tasting the delicious sweat.
“Now that’s an incredible idea. I want you to be as sweaty as possible.” Bryant confirmed with a devilish grin. “But right now I want you to get down on your knees and suck my cock.” He continued, now fully confident in the power he held over David while gesturing down at the hard, leaking cock that was sticking out of his suit pants.
David looked down at the cock and then back up at his boss. “Anything for you sir.” He smiled seductively as he lowered himself to his knees. Soon finding himself knelt between Bryant’s legs and facing a pulsing cock that was ready to be worshiped. David didn’t waste any time, licking up and down the shaft before eventually wrapping his lips around the shaft, glancing up at Bryant with his deep masculine eyes as he took over half of it down his throat right away. Hardly even gagging when Bryant grabbed the back of head and pushed it down even further. Simply sucking on the rather thick cock as best he could, occasionally pulling off with an audible pop before jerking it for a while until he was ready to go back down on it again. It wasn’t long before the new gym teacher was deep throating the principal’s cock as if it were made out of candy, his bearded chin periodically tapping against Bryant’s nuts.
“Fuuuuck you’re such a good cock sucker…” Principal Bryant grunted in satisfaction. “But I don’t wanna cum just yet.” He added before grabbing David’s head again pulling him off the cock, precum drooling from his mouth. “Now I want you to show me just how much of a slut you are by pulling down those shorts, bending over my desk, and presenting that hairy ass to me.” He commanded with nothing but pure desire in his eyes.
David did just that, standing up and pulling down his shorts, briefly showing off the tent in his jockstrap created by his erection, before bending over the desk in front of his boss, displaying his thick hairy ass in all its glory to the other man. “How’s this sir? Like what you see?” He teased, waving his ass back and forth seductively.
Bryant didn’t even respond. His mouth went dry as his cock pulsed unbelievably hard. He almost couldn’t believe this was happening. And yet when he reached a hand out, the manly ass it rested on was most certainly real. He ran both hands across the two globes in wonder before pulling them apart slightly to get a look at David’s hole. Bryant found his face being drawn to it, slowly inching closer until he couldn’t help himself any more, stuffing his face between two hairy cheeks while internally thanking Mr Wavell for making this a reality.
The new gym teacher chuckled as his boyfriend and boss enjoyed his hole, eating it out eagerly. His enlarged cock bucking inside the jockstrap pouch under the desk as he felt Bryant’s tongue exploring inside his ass, tasting it with a seemingly insatiable hunger. David could tell the principal was really starting to get into now by the way he was smacking David’s furry ass cheeks.
Despite how much he was enjoying eating his new gym teacher boyfriend's ass, Bryant couldn’t ignore the calls of his dick any longer. After getting one last lick in, he stood up straight and looked down at the man bent over his desk with glee. This had been his dream ever since he first saw David and now he got to experience it with an upgraded version of the man. He rubbed his wet cock against the prepped hole, teasing the entrance with his tip.
Bryant looked around his office, checking that the door was locked and all the blinds were closed before grinning, knowing just how soundproof the room was. “Now. I’m gonna shove my cock up your ass and when I do you'll start moaning like cock hungry slut. Begging me to fuck like a submissive bottom who needs filling.” He instructed with a sinister smile.
“Yes sirrrOoooOOHHH FUUUUU-” David moaned out loudly in his deepened voice, hardly getting a chance to finish his response before getting speared by Bryant’s hungry dick. The principal didn’t go easy on him either, stuffing almost his entire length inside at once. “Fuck yeah sir!! Give me all that cock!” He shouted in response while Bryant started to pump in and out slowly. “Ohhh yeah I need it so badly! Keep going!” He begged.
Hearing a guy as manly as David was now begging to get his hairy hole fucked had always been one of David’s biggest fantasies and it definitely showed. He wanted to go slow but the more David moaned the more he couldn’t help picking up the pace. Slamming his cock in deeper, harder and faster with every thrust only to be met with even more slutty moans from the new gym teacher. “Yeah? You like that bitch? Mmmm fuck! Take my dick!” He responded while grabbing onto David’s hips firmly, allowing him to go balls deep with every thrust much to the other man’s delight.
“Mmmmmm yess sirrrr ooohhhhhhh yesss! Please… fill me with you load! I need it inside me!” David groaned in ecstasy as his prostate was slammed into over and over, causing his own cock to dribble excessively, dampening his jock. “Fuuuck! I need your cum so badly!” He squeezed his hole around Bryant’s member as best he could, enticing his boss to spill his load inside.
Fortunately for David, thanks to how horny Bryant was, it seemed he’d be getting his wish sooner rather than later. The principal kept up a strong, fast pace for a good while but finally the pleasure was starting to spike. His balls starting the churn as they prepared themselves. “Oh god…” He grunted, thrusts suddenly becoming less rhythmic. “Nrghh-fuck! I’m gonna… FUUUUUCCKKK!” Bryant roared as his cock exploded with one of the biggest loads he’d ever shot. Draining his balls completely inside the big manly ass before him.
“Yesssss! Give it all to me sir!” David moaned like the submissive slut that he was right now, simultaneously blowing his own load. Completely drenching his jockstrap as thick globs of cum forced their way through the fabric before dripping heavily onto the carpet below.
The two panted heavily for a moment after such an experience. Taking in everything that had just happened. David winced slightly as he felt Bryant slowly pulling his cock back until it flopped out, wet with cum and saliva. Bryant stood up straight again and looked down, admiring what he had before him. It really was a miracle.
“Alright, stand up properly for me David.” The Principal ordered and of course his slutty gym teacher boyfriend did exactly that. “Now turn around for me so I can get a good look at the mess you’ve made…” he smirked, licking his lips as he saw David’s cum covered pouch. He knelt down until he was eye level with the jockstrap before wrapping his mouth around the bulge. David’s cum tasted just as good as he’d hoped. Deliciously salty as he licked and sucked on the bulge. “Damn these balls of yours really know how to produce some amazing cum…” he complimented.
“Thank you sir…” David panted, still a little worn out. Yet he couldn’t stop a grunt from escaping his lips as Bryant squeezed his balls playfully.
With that Principal Bryant jumped back up onto his feet with a content smile on his face. As he did he grabbed the grey shorts that hung around David’s ankles and yanked them all the way back up over David’s crotch and ass. “There you go. Now I want you to go about the rest of your day with my load in your ass. Just imagine that my cum is fuel that keeps you going.” He smirked before giving David’s hairy bubble butt a hefty smack.
“Of course sir! I won’t spill a drop!” David claimed boldly before glancing over at the clock. “Well it looks like lunch is almost over. Guess I’d better start getting ready for my next class. I’ve got some students today that are just as eager about football as I am hahaha!” He chuckled.
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“Well you’d better head off then Coach Everett. Wouldn’t want to keep the students waiting now would you?” Bryant smirked while stuffing his cock away in his suit pants again.
“Absolutely not!” David began making his way towards the door, grabbing his tank top and slipping it on over his head. “Well I’ll see you tonight babe after my sweaty jog home.”
“Can’t wait. And maybe tonight I’ll let you be the dominant one instead…”
David unlocked the door and pulled it open. “I like the sound of that.” And with that David took his leave, heading for the gym teacher offices as if he’d always worked down there. Not a single memory of ever being an English teacher left.
Now alone, the Principal found himself punching the air in excitement. This was better than anything he could’ve ever asked for! He’d have to thank Mr Wavell if he ever saw him again because he really went above and beyond. He couldn’t help but wonder what other sexual fantasies he could play out with David in the near future…
———
Little did Bryant know that Wavell had been present the whole time being the pervy warlock he was. Having watched everything that went down from the transformation to the sex. He had a fair reason of wanting to see if the experimental magic infused video he’d given to Bryant worked properly. “Seems everything went smoothly this time. Complete override of specific aspects of the subjects reality. Intensity of transformation magic perfectly balanced. Subject didn’t accidentally turn into a massive muscle giant hardly capable of moving nor is he aware of his former life. Seems like I’ve found the correct formula for these transformation videos.” Wavell muttered to himself…
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honkytonk-hangman · 9 months
Text
Line of Sight [3]
JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN X READER
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Summary: Jake gets competitive. You happen to find that incredibly sexy.
Warnings: language? frank conversations? mostly just fluff <3
Notes: PART THREE AT LAST !!!!! thank you so so so so so much to @roleycoleyland for the encouragement and friendship during the very long writing process for this one, this is for u hehehe <3
Masterlist
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You have to stop and blink down at your phone in confusion when it starts ringing at 3pm on a Saturday afternoon. After complaining last weekend to Hangman that you didn’t have his phone number, he’d made sure you didn’t leave the bar without it.
You never expected that he would be the one to call first.
“We’re going mini golfing at six.” Hangman informs you matter of factly down the line, not even giving you a chance to greet him when you pick up.
“Yes, hello, Hangman, it’s good to hear from you, too!” you say as if talking to a preschooler. You can practically hear his eyes rolling as the sound of a phone being adjusted crinkles in your ear.
“It’s just Jake,” he ignores your attempt to tease him, and for a moment your heart sinks in an all-too familiar way. “And get ready, it’s already five.” he adds, his tone full of faux sternness.
“Is this your way of being nice to me? I think I liked it better when you ignored me…” you joke, rolling your own eyes. On the other end, Hangman is silent for a beat and you think he must have stopped moving entirely, because all background noise has ceased too.
“David has invited us for a double date, apparently he didn’t get enough of his ass handed to him last week.” He says then, as if suddenly remembering this fact. You start, jolting in your spot, your features automatically turning down.
“He what?!” you demand, before suddenly realising Hangman must have exchanged numbers with David at some point, how else would they have organised this apparent double-date.
“We’re going mini-golfing with David and Yas. We’re going to destroy them, remember?” He asks as if you’re the one losing your mind.
“Yeah! At pool, Hangman! You already did that! I don’t wanna go mini-golfing with David!” you try your best not to sound like you’re whining, but even you can hear that it's a lost cause. Wherever Hangman is, you hear him tut and let out an exasperated breath.
“It’s just Jake. Besides, you said, and I quote sweetheart; ‘nothing left to bury’. I’ve got tone and now I’m just confirming the kill!” he reasons, but it only serves to confuse you slightly.
“Why are you being so insistent about this?! He’s my ex!” you stress, voice rising just a little in your frustration.
“Exactly!” Hangman’s volume matches your own, and it quickly silences any other protests you might have. You might have heard him get rowdy at the Hard Deck before, but you have never ever heard him raise his voice above a friendly call.
He doesn’t speak again immediately after that, and it’s quiet for so long you have to pull your phone away from your ear to check if the call is even still active. Just when you’re about to relent and apologise for shouting, Hangman sighs again, and you can almost perfectly picture him dragging his hand down his face.
“Just let me do this for you, alright? You won’t even have to do anything except look real pretty and maybe kiss my cheek whenever I get a hole in one!”
You have to blink at his sudden switch up, both seemingly pleading with you and blatant flirting within the same ten seconds.
Your mind still lingers on what he’d meant by ‘exactly’, you struggle to understand why he’d have any particular skin in this game any more. He’d already trounced David last weekend, maybe you were mistaken, but you can’t help but feel this new rouse is too much effort for a guy who seemingly didn’t care to acknowledge you properly for the first year you knew him… still, no matter how much you hated the idea of wasting a night in David’s company, or even worse, wasting Hangman’s limited down time before he was shipped off somewhere again, the idea of spending it with the aviator of your affections, watching him thoroughly wipe that condescending smile off of David’s face, is fast growing on you.
Softly you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding until now.
“Are you sure?” You ask softly, falling victim again to your need for this man to just like you. Hangman scoffs and you hear what sounds like keys.
“About the kisses? Absolutely.” He replies too fast for it to not have been slightly planned, and you can imagine his smirk now. You realise you shouldn’t count yourself short, a month ago you’d never been on the receiving end of one of his infuriating Cheshire grins, but these days it seemed to be the only expression he wore around you.
You roll your eyes and huff.
“You should be so lucky.” You say with absolutely no conviction.
“For my smokin’ hot girlfriend to fawn over me every time I humiliate her piece of shit ex-boyfriend for her? I’d agree. I would be very lucky, sweetheart.” Hangman’s voice is surprisingly effective down a crackly phone line, deeper and with an inflection you aren’t sure of. As if he knew something you didn’t. You find yourself surprised by how much it doesn’t annoy you,  how much it instead makes you want to jump his bones here and now. You were much too aware that half your desire for Hangman to look at you twice was because you had a crush the size of his ego, but you’d become so used to his cold treatment of you for so long, that feeling a sliver of arousal shoot through you is almost strange.
“I really like mini golf.” You tell him abruptly, desperate to distract yourself from that line of thought. “In my hometown, we had this incredible putt-putt place, it was honestly plucked from Disneyland or something. It was that cool…” you ramble on, reminiscing about the good ol’ local Holey-Moley.
“Did you go a lot?” Hangman asks, his voice unreadable. You let out a sad little laugh and shake your head even though he can’t see you.
“Nah. I remember I always wanted to go for my birthday when I was a kid, but the cost was through the roof. When I got a bit older I guess… I guess I could have gone but, more importantly I’m not sure it’s so fun to go mini-golfing alone.” You chortle at the thought, but part of you wishes you’d done it, at least once.
“Mmh. No smoking girlfriend to kiss your cheek when you win.” Hangman says, and you can’t help yourself, you laugh loud and unabashedly. You think you can hear him chuckle too, but it could have been peaking static for all you know.
“Golf is at six. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up at ten to, alright?” Hangman tells you, his voice not exactly soft, but not demanding like it had been earlier either. You hum, but before you hang up you call out.
“Wait, Jake?” You hear shuffling, like perhaps he hadn’t heard you.
“Yeah?”
You pause, unsure of exactly how to say what you want to, and choose to settle on the simplest way.
“Thanks. David sucks.” You tell him gratefully. You hear silence for a moment before his voice comes back again.
“Don’t mention it. We hate that guy.”
As it turns out, you didn’t need to worry much about seeing David or him making you feel any type of way. It’s only when you and Jake have settled at the venue’s bar and ordered a round that his phone buzzes sharply and makes the blond frown down at the screen in front of him, before he pockets it again.
You watch him take a hefty swig, and still frowning, he fixes you in his gaze, making your stomach involuntarily flutter.
“David and Yas aren’t coming.” He states. You struggle to read his tone, though you think he might sound a little annoyed, and the fluttering in your stomach immediately ceases.
“Oh.” You say dumbly, blinking rapidly down at your hands, and then to your drink. You also take a big sip, now avoiding your companion’s eyes as you let the disappointment roll through you.
After a few moments you feel a large hand land on your back, between your shoulder blades, and you glance over to eye it’s owner, who seems to be doing his best version of apologetic while rubbing his hand in soothing motions up and down over your sweater.
“Hey, that’s a good thing isn’t it? We hate that guy,” Jake asks, his eyes flicking back and forth over your face, but you aren’t sure what he’s looking for. You hum, noncommittal, and down another large mouthful of your cocktail, missing the way Jake’s lips turn downward at your reaction.
All too soon his big hand is gone from your back, and you almost cringe at how much you miss not just the warmth, but the feeling of his touch.
“I’ll take you home, if you want me to,” he says, tone unreadable to you now, and you can’t help but look up at him again. Jake stares back, his brow furrowed, but he bows his head a little to the side when you meet his gaze, now avoiding you.
“I just thought…” he trails off, shutting his mouth sharply, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he stares over your shoulder.
You feel the urge to comfort him then, as you realise this whole mess is Hangman’s version of doing a nice thing for you. It occurs to you then that he’s aware of how obvious this fact must be to you in the light of things not going to plan, and almost want to laugh at the idea of him feeling shy about how much he’s really willing to do for people he likes. It makes some sense, considering you’ve seen how little he’ll do for those he seemingly doesn’t.
You do crack a smile at the thought of him trying to hide how much he cares, and make a note to watch for it in the future.
“What? That you’d get away from being destroyed by my slice?” you ask, pushing off the bar with a combative smirk. Your words immediately draw his attention again, and almost like you’ve uttered the magic phrase, his whole demeanour switches up. He’s smirking now, in that infuriating way that makes it seem as if he knows something you don’t, and where you’ve stopped leaning, he takes it up, resting his palm flat on the bar so that his bicep flexes impossibly taut. Briefly the ridiculously bulging muscle draws your eye, and you can’t help but ogle him slightly, from his arm up to his neck and by the time you reach his eyes, you know you’ve been caught.
Jake’s smirk is almost mean with how wide it is, and you nearly jump when he leans in to you slightly, cocking his head derisively.
“Honey, I would love to be destroyed by your slice,” he tells you like it’s a joke you clearly don’t get. He knows he has your attention now, and he makes a show of finishing off his beer, taking the opportunity to get even closer to you when he places his empty bottle down, his eyes purposefully looking you over. You think he must enjoy how wound up he makes women, and considering you told him the last time you saw him that he made you hot and bothered, he appears to be pulling out all the stops. You take a deep breath, and quickly finish your own drink, enjoying the way he dares his hand back to your body, once more at your back, but this time he drops it lower, easily turning you so you can grab your clubs and begin putting.
“I have to warn you though,” he continues, never moving too far from the spot right behind you, even though the venue is packed full. “I’m known to be a bad sport about these things. Too competitive,” his voice holds an element of humour still, but it’s receded enough that you can hear the real hesitation in it. It makes you wonder if he’s had dates in the past go poorly because of something similar. The idea makes you scrunch your nose as you approach the first putting course.
When you turn around to reply, Jake seems just as taken aback as you at your sudden proximity, not entirely unfamiliar, though it feels different from the last time against the pool table given that his hand still lingers at your back, now seemingly holding you together. You stare at one another for a moment before you remember what you were going to say, hesitating for a few seconds longer before committing to telling him.
“I like that– about you, I mean,” you manage to say without stuttering, your confidence growing some when he can’t seem to stop a small frown appearing between his brows at your words. “I like how confident you are… you don’t have much doubt about your ability, and…” you trail off a little as he meets your gaze, looking almost bewildered that you would be so open or honest about such a thing. It almost makes you laugh again at this silly man and the games he likes to play, never really saying what he means.
“I think it’s kinda hot when you’re good at things, so I really won’t really mind if you’re a poor sport about it…” you admit, laughing a little awkwardly at yourself. Jake seems to blink back to life then, like you’d hit his hard reset button, and his smirk somewhat returns, though it glimmers between a proper smile and his usual cheshire like amusement.
“I guess you can’t lose then, huh?” he purrs. “Also means it won’t matter if I help you like last time.”
You nearly jump when his grip on you tightens briefly, but he quickly brings both his hands to your hips, and turns you back away from him. He gives your waist another squeeze before his hands move to slip down your forearms and then over your own, his grip firm and unbelievably arousing to you. You actually have to force yourself to take in air normally and not let your eyes roll back slightly when he kicks your feet further apart, and his little chuckle lets you know he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“This better be the best shot of all time, Hangman, cause I actually know what I’m doing this time,” you warn weakly, even as he gently pulls your arms back and helps you swing, stunning you slightly when your ball sinks an immediate hole in one on a three par course. You can’t help but pull away from his hold so you can look up at him in surprised shock. Jake simply lifts an eyebrow and returns your gaze, his chest seemingly puffing a little when you settle back against him. He chuckles when he uses you to sink another perfect shot of his own, and you hum, murmuring a quiet ‘well done’.
“And to think I coulda been doing this months ago…” he says after you’ve both moved to the next course, and he’s gotten comfortable once more with his arms draped around you like his only function is to be a very smug blanket.
“I have to say, most men don’t get away with wasting so much of my time,” you say with so much faux haughtiness you almost apologise. Luckily for you, Jake appears to enjoy it when you’re mean, this time one of his arms circles your waist, the other lazily taking a shot that sinks itself just as quickly as the last.
You’re suddenly glad that you’re not playing him properly, for as good as you’d become from practice, you know for a fact you’ll never be this good.
“Don’t want you lowering your standards just for little ol’ me, honey.” Jake says right by your ear, forcing you to repress a shiver.
“Most men also don’t ignore me for the better part of a year, so I guess you’re special,” you reply quickly, though immediately regret it when you feel him shift, perhaps a little uncomfortably.
He doesn’t speak again until after he’s placed his own ball down and is lining up his shot. When he swings it doesn’t go right in, making you look over your shoulder at him only to find his eyes barely focused on the task at hand. He doesn’t even seem to realise he’s got another shot to take, and so this time when you pull away from you, you take his hand, gaining his attention again as you lead him over to where his neon green ball waits.
You see him look between it and the hole a few feet off, but before he can move gain, you tuck yourself back into his chest, where he at last relaxes, though you feel the movement of him swallowing thickly just before he begins lining himself up.
“I didn’t want you to not like me…” he says softly, so quiet you almost miss it.
“You thought I wouldn’t like you if I talked to you?” you say questioningly, leaning up to look at him just as your own words make you realise his exact mindset. You stare at one another for a few moments, before Jake clears his throat, and looks away, taking his second shot and finishing above par  even as you keep staring at him.
“What happened to all that confidence, huh? How could I not like you?” you ask, nudging him a little. His eyes snap to yours, and a funny little smirk crosses his features.
“You’re so honest,” he comments instead of answering you.
“Maybe if we’d been on speaking terms for more than two hours total you might have known that,” you roll your eyes. Jake ignores your snark and tightens his hold around your waist.
“Seems you're winning,” he says, guiding you almost blindly toward the next hole, and positioning you back between his arms. “Looks like I can’t lose either.”
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sunkiss3dlily · 2 months
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to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part two | joel miller x reader
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Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2611
Summary: While waiting for Joel to recover, he takes a turn for the worst, and you find yourself doing whatever you can to keep him with you and Ellie.
Note(s): I was asked to do a second part of this fic where the reader gets hurt and Joel goes crazy over it, but it was getting a bit long so I've split it into three parts, so this is the first and the second will be up pretty soon! This deviates from the show/game in terms of the David situation (Ellie doesn't get hurt), but I hope you still enjoy! I feel like this idea has been done a few times so I hope it's not too repetitive!! Also I am not medically inclined in the slightest so if the details are wrong for anything, please just go with it hahaha. As always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
He made it through the first night, then the next, and the one after that.
It was almost unbelievable. While you kept a brave face for Ellie, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay, the fact that Joel was still there with you felt almost too good to be true—not that you were complaining, not one bit.
Night after night, you would lie beside him, simply watching him. When Ellie succumbed to fitful bouts of sleep, you made sure to keep his coat tucked under his chin, preserving his warmth as he lay unconscious on the mattress. With your flashlight aimed at his torso, you checked for any signs of movement, or rather, the ceasing of it, until you eventually succumbed to sleeping yourself. After the flashlight inevitably died after the second night, you resorted to placing a delicate hand on his chest, under his coat, feeling for the rise and fall of his shallow breaths.
Most of your conversations with him—conversations that felt more like monologues—happened when Ellie was either asleep or out collecting snow for Callus. Initially, it was to offer comfort during those brief moments of consciousness—the occasional groan of pain or the utterance of your name. Eventually, when he fell completely unconscious, talking to him became a source of comfort purely for yourself.
You'd ramble on about just about anything that came to mind, mindful of your volume to avoid waking or alerting Ellie. It began with small talk and general comments about how cold it was and how you hoped he was warm enough. To pass the time, you'd share some of the less corny jokes from Ellie's pun book, and then you began telling him about your life before the outbreak: your family, your occupation, and your hobbies. For some reason, it all spilled out, and there ended up being more words spoken between you than before he was injured. For whatever reason, whether that was because you did not have his hardened expression aimed at you while you spoke for once, you found it really easy to open up to him, and you could only hope that he could hear you somehow and that he'd know you and Ellie were still there, waiting for him.
You couldn't help but wonder if this was how nurses felt before the outbreak. Did they talk to their comatose patients, hoping their voice was enough to guide them back to the land of the living, to the ones they loved?
You hoped that was the case for Joel, even if you couldn't fathom being a reason for him to live, no matter how desperately you needed him.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
On the fourth day, sunlight streamed through the overhead windows, gently nudging you awake. Your forehead was pressed against Joel's coat, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling him breathe. As you glanced up, you noticed his head leaning towards yours, a mix of pain and contentment etched on his typically stoic face. A faint smile crossed your lips at the first sight of his subtle reaction.
With a sigh of relief, you slowly sat up, withdrawing your hand from his chest.
On the other side of Joel, Ellie was still fast asleep, nestled as close to him as possible on the mattress. A frown creased your brow as realisation dawned upon you: none of you had eaten properly in days, rationing the minimal scraps you had, just in case Joel woke up and, undoubtedly, felt hunger. The truth was, surviving purely on those scraps and melted snow alone wouldn't last much longer.
Letting out a small sigh, you approached Ellie, kneeling beside her and softly calling her name before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to wake her. "Ellie? Hey, Ellie?"
She woke with a start, glancing around in momentary disorientation before her eyes met yours. Her gaze quickly shifted to Joel. "Is he okay?"
You hummed, "He's doing as well as he can right now. Are you hungry?"
"Starving," she murmured, laying back down and looking as exhausted as you felt.
You reached for your bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a piece of jerky that looked to have seen better days. You let out a small sigh and held it out for Ellie, who narrowed her eyes at you and took it before breaking it in half and holding one piece out for you.
"I'm good," you assured her with a wave of your hand, and you watched as Ellie reluctantly lowered her arm after a few moments. Instead, she shuffled closer to the mattress and laid the jerky on top of Joel's coat, which made you smile slightly.
Ellie continued chewing quietly for a moment before raising her hand and laying the back of it on Joel's forehead. "Holy fuck. He's like a furnace."
You were no doctor, but you were sure that just having a coat draped over him wouldn't raise his temperature that much, especially in the blistering cold of winter. You frowned, placing your own hand on his forehead and retracting it almost instantly. Sweat was forming at his brow, and using your very little medical knowledge from the medical dramas you used to consume before the outbreak, you realised he had a fever.
With quick speed, you lifted the coat off his lower stomach, lifted his shirt, and examined the wound that you had the displeasure of stitching up all those days ago, realising almost immediately that something looked off. The skin around it was scorched red, swollen, and oozing pus, something that you were unable to see last night with no flashlight.
"Shit," you muttered to yourself, knowing it was infected and realising that it was more than likely caused by the bacteria-infested needle you had used so hastily to patch him up.
Ellie sat up, watching you with concern. "What? What is it?"
"The wound is infected," you sighed, sitting back on your heels and trying to think of the best course of action. "Okay, I'm going to search the other houses to see if any of them have any sort of antibiotic."
Ellie nodded, sitting up. "Okay, let's go."
You shook your head. "I go. You stay here, with Joel."'
Her mouth opened, her stubborn attitude ready to argue with you, but you simply shook your head once more. "Someone has to watch him, Ellie. If he wakes up and needs help and no one's here, he'll..." You trail off, and Ellie's fight seems to wane considerably at the sight of your sadness. You clear your throat and reach towards the weapon lying beside the staircase. "Take Joel's rifle. Anything goes south down here; you take care of it, alright?"
She takes it, nodding, her eyes falling to the slow rise of Joel's chest as she asks, "What if you don't come back?"
You were speechless for a moment; for some reason, you didn't even consider that a possibility. You were only going to search some of the other houses, not even going too far, but there was still the possibility that the raiders were still hanging around waiting for you all. That, or infected.
"I will," is your simple response.
It's not enough for Ellie. "You don't know that."
"I have to," you state, and she looks up at you. "I have to come back, Ellie. I took this job for a reason, and... I'm not leaving you behind."
Your eyes flitter to Joel's unconscious form.
"Either of you."
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚, '"Where the hell did you go?"
The search for medicine in the abandoned houses near the garage where you, Ellie and Joel had taken refuge proved utterly futile. Exiting each house empty-handed drained the last remnants of optimism from your body.
However, a glimmer of determination emerged when you found yourself tailgating a white rabbit through a clearing into the snowy woods between two houses. With the smallest spark of fight left in you, you raised your rifle and focused on at least securing a substantial meal for yourself and Ellie today.
Yet, as the woods were entirely blanketed in snow, your search was already compromised. Nevertheless, you kept your feet moving, aware that any pause could cause your knees to buckle, making it a struggle to find the strength to stand again.
"Shit," you muttered to yourself, the chill blistering your skin as you narrowed your eyes in search of the elusive creature. "Where the hell did you go?"
Taking a few more steps, you heard the familiar squeaking resume as you approached a log. The rabbit seemed to have burrowed itself in the snow behind it in an attempt to protect itself, and you did your best to move quietly to avoid startling it. Fate, however, had other plans. A few twigs snapped in the near distance, and the creature bolted once more.
Turning your head to the source of the noise, your blood ran cold. Two men were facing you, their rifles prominent in their hands, though not raised. Their eyes were fixed on you as they took a step forward, the shorter one leading the taller.
Although you couldn't recognise them as the raiders who attacked you, Joel, and Ellie days ago, you weren't naive. You understood the dangers posed by any desperate man.
In an instant, you dove behind a tree, raising your rifle and aiming it towards them, cautiously glancing out to keep an eye on their movements. "Don't come any closer."
From the shadows, the shorter man with short, ginger hair, barely visible at the top of his head, raised a hand to halt his friend. "Easy, there; I'm sure we can all work this out. We aren't here to hurt you; quite the opposite, actually."
"I don't care what you're here for; walk away or I shoot," you called, squeezing the rifle in your hand, finding it a comfort. You'd feel much more reassured with Joel there, but you're sorely reminded of your predicament. "And I never miss."
Silence followed your warning, and you cautiously looked out, seeing them both still standing there. The shorter man seemed more relaxed than the taller one. He had his hands raised in surrender, and his gun had been dropped to the snow-covered ground. The taller man, wearing a beanie, still held his gun, but in a loose grip.
"Just...just hear me out for a second," the shorter man began, nodding at you in an attempt to calm you. He noticed your attention focused on his friend's gun and turned his head towards him while keeping most of his body facing you. "James, drop the gun."
James eyed the shorter man wearily, but ultimately he did as he was told. Your shoulders loosened considerably, though you kept your gun raised in warning, your finger resting on the trigger.
The shorter man looked back at you, his lips quirking slightly at the edges in a way that unsettled you. "See? We truly aren't here to cause you any harm. My name is David, and this is my friend, James."
You bit back a snarky comment about not giving a damn, and feeling assured enough that you had the upper hand now, being the only one holding your weapon, you stepped out from behind the tree. David's eyes narrowed slightly as he took you in, but a smile settled on his lips soon after.
"You out here all alone?"
You visibly stiffened, tensing your finger on the trigger, and David laughed a little as he spoke. "Easy, now. Just having a conversation is all. You're looking a bit worse for wear. You been out here long?"
"A few hours," you responded honestly, before pausing just a fraction too long. "My whole group has. In fact, they should be on their way back here right now."
David quirked his eyebrow, sounding disbelieving as he asked, "How many of you are there?"
"Enough." You responded, glaring at him, but this only caused him to smile unnervingly towards you again.
"So you're travelling with a big group, huh? Yeah, me and James come from a big group too." He looked towards his friend and nodded. "Yeah, we have a settlement a couple miles from here. Nothing too fancy, just a little village, but it's safe—you'd have a roof over your head, some extra clothes on your back, and new boots if you needed them. You could come and check it out to see if it's good enough for you and your friends; it would be nice to see some fresh faces."
You narrowed your eyes at his offer. "Why aren't you there right now?"
David paused. "I'm sure you know all too well how quickly food runs out in big groups like ours. I guess that's why you were chasing that little bunny so carefully. Yeah, we know the feeling. The desperation. It's hard, right? Well, truth be told, we've been struggling with keeping everyone comfortably fed over this harsh winter, but James has been scouting this big buck for a couple of days, and we've come to bring it back to our people."
You nodded slowly, your stomach twisting at the thought of having something big enough to feed you, Joel, and Ellie comfortably. You could kill them both and go looking for it, but then you'd know you'd truly lost your humanity; you were not yet depraved. "Maybe you should focus on keeping your own people safe before trying to recruit new ones."
"You could help us." David suggested, and you didn't miss the way James looked at him. "As you said, you never miss a shot. James and I are pretty rusty ourselves. But if you helped us, we'd be able to feed our people and yours, or you could take half the buck for yourselves if you truly don't want to give us a chance. Fair trade."
Nerves bubbled within your stomach, and you cleared your throat, tilting your head. "What's to say you won't shoot me dead the second we find it?"
"That wouldn't be very smart, would it?" He smiled. "Not when your group will be showing up soon; James and I'd be outnumbered in seconds."
You breathed out nervously, not knowing what to do and knowing, damn well, no one was coming for you. "Yeah, you would."
David laughed. "So, we have a deal?"
"Back at your village, do you have medicine?" You found yourself asking suddenly, noticing the way James' eyes widened partially, but David remained cool. "For infections and such?"
David hummed. "We do. Someone hurt?"
You nodded, saying nothing else about it.
"Well, then," David sighed. "Tell you what, how about this? James, you head back home and speak to Howard. Tell him you need two bottles of penicillin and a syringe."
James looked at David with an expression of what looked to be confusion and unsureness.
"This isn't code, James. Do as I said," David continued before he turned to you. "You and I will keep hunting for this buck while James gets that medicine for you; then, when he gets back, you can decide whether you want to follow us or not, alright?"
You aimed your rifle towards James as he looked back at you.
"That works." You watched as James leaned to reach for his rifle and fired a warning shot beside his feet, sending the snow flying. "Leave that there. You can find it when I'm gone."
"Listen to the lady, James," David instructed, and James straightened back up, taking a few steps back until he began running through the woods back towards the clearing that you had previously come through yourself.
David met your gaze once more, smiling softly. "Well, let's go find that buck."
©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.
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youcouldmakealife · 12 days
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SOTM: Lourdes Family, David; family traditons
For the prompt: Jake's sisters slowly warming up to David
The problem with Nat and David, Allie decides early on, is that they’re too alike. Not in most ways, really — she doesn’t think they’d agree on much when it comes to their taste in media, or hobbies, or any of that, and she’s sure they’d both be surprised if she said they were similar at all.
But Allie knows Nat better than she knows herself, probably, and she’s made an attempt at getting to know David, because she knows how important it is to Jake, and some of the things that make Natalie Nat to her seem to be pretty similar to the things that make David David.
They’re both quiet, but it’s not shyness with either of them, though it can seem like it unless you know them. As often as not, Nat’s quiet because silently dismantling whatever’s being said in her head, about to spring it on whatever poor unsuspecting person just claimed they ‘could care less’ or called a pterodactyl a dinosaur or something that matters to nobody but Nat. 
Though mostly she doesn’t actually say it to them — unless they’re family, she corrects Allie all the time, and poor Jakey doesn’t stand a chance — she’s saying it as an aside to Allie, or recalling it later ,‘my co-worker thought Babylon was a mythological place, and when I said 'oh yeah, like Bethlehem?' he said 'yeah, exactly!'’ or ‘If I hear someone use literally when they mean figuratively one more time, Allie, I swear I'm going to snap’. 
She’s quiet, and sometimes she seems checked out, but she’s always paying attention to what everyone else is saying. Allie’s learned it’s the same with David — she’ll mention something and then nine months later David will have gotten her a Christmas present based on her offhand comment. Or he’ll ask if she wants the same drink as last time, last time being like, six months ago. Allie doesn’t know if he’s got that kind of memory for everybody, or if it’s just because she’s Jake’s sister, and he’s still trying to impress all of them, but, well — consider her impressed, she guesses.
But also, she’s pretty sure he’s also picking up on the mistakes everybody else makes, except instead of ‘Allie, let me tell you the misspelled bumper sticker I saw today’, she isn’t hearing shit from him. She doesn’t think Jake is either, at least if the people making mistakes are them. And they probably are. Allie has no illusions that she makes no mistakes: if she did, Nat would have beaten that belief out of her by now.
“He thinks he’s better than us,” Nat complained once, and Allie pressed her lips together very tightly, and she didn’t say a thing, and frankly, she thinks she deserves a medal for that.
As similar as David can be to Nat, he’s absolutely nothing like Jake. If Allie was asked to list their similarities, it’d be like — ‘very athletic white dudes around the same age’, and then a bunch of hockey specific things. Beyond that, she’s got nothing. It isn’t just their personalities — they have completely different taste in everything. Different priorities, outside of similar career ones. Some overlapping friends, but Allie just attributes that to Jake being able to make friends with a table leg if he wants to. They could not be less alike.
Allie’s never been a big believer in the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing, but honestly, maybe she should be: mom and dad are a pretty good example of it, and Jake and David seem to bring out the best in each other.
It took Allie a little while to come to terms with them getting back together, but she can’t deny that Jake seems to grow when he’s around David. Maturity wise, but he also just seems to stand up straighter, like just being around David makes him more alert, or aware, or maybe even self-confident, though that’s never been something he's lacked.
It probably isn’t just David he’s like that with — Allie hasn’t seen him around the Panthers too much, but he is the captain, after all — but either way, it’s a nice thing to see Jake grown up.
He’s still the baby to her, will probably always be the baby to her — anyone she put in pigtails and pulled around in a little red wagon while telling everyone to look at her pretty little dolly is going to be a baby to her forever, let’s face it — but for all that he’s been taller than her since he was twelve, he felt like a kid to her the whole way to the show, and for awhile after. He doesn’t feel like a kid anymore. Baby, sure, he's always going to be that, but not a kid. 
If anything, David feels more like one. Not that he’s childish, or immature, or whatever, because Allie suspects he wasn’t even childish when he was an actual child. Maybe more someone suddenly immersed in a foreign culture — he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to do, what the hell is up with the wishbone thing. 
She’s seen Jake explain things to him, the traditions she thought everyone did, and the traditions that are very Lourdes specific, the way mom gives extra mashed potatoes if you're a suck up, and how if people don’t take turns opening presents it turns into a free-for-all, and how nobody actually eats the cranberry sauce.
When Jake isn’t there to do it — rare, but the dude does need bathroom breaks — Allie figures it’s no skin off her nose to do it instead, and she even overhears Nat doing it once, though  she might have just been venting about someone saying dumb shit again. She does love to do that. 
The important thing is that he keeps showing up, even though he’s uncomfortable every single time — though maybe Allie’s imagining it, but she thinks he’s reached the ‘almost comfortable’ stage this Christmas, like, maybe feeling a little awkward, but no more than anyone else would, spending Christmas with his boyfriend’s family.  Maybe more than someone typically would if they’ve been doing it every year, but Allie knows they can be a lot, that most people have trouble keeping up with the rapid back and forth — even Jake gets left behind sometimes, then pouty when they start tease him about it.
David was a wide-eyed spectator, the first few times he saw that. Jake told Allie later that he didn’t hear the fondness in it, just the mockery, got defensive on Jake’s behalf. Allie doesn’t know how he’s survived locker rooms for so long — their love language is basically just mockery and punching each other in sensitive places, at least judging by Jake and his teammates back in the day. Probably now too. She’s met Cody Gallagher, unfortunately.
He takes it better now though, even joined in yesterday when everyone was shit-talking Jake’s recent stab at growing facial hair, while Jake tried and failed to defend himself through giggles. On the one hand, Allie’s just glad it isn’t a mustache, but on the other hand, maybe he’d do a better job with that. This morning, Jake comes down to breakfast clean-shaven. Allie isn’t delusional: he didn’t shave it because his sisters gave him shit. That was all David.
“High five,” Allie says when David joins them downstairs, and she’s half expecting a quizzical look, maybe even the ‘what the hell are the Lourdes talking about now’ one that surfaces sometimes, but instead she gets a tiny smile and a high five.
“I’m sitting right here, guys,” Jake says, but once again, he’s laughing.
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benevolentwarfare · 9 months
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𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔫𝔢 (𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔭 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯)
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“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone, huh?” He asks, a teasing glint in his eye as your face lights up pink. You’d think you would be used to his casual flirting by now, but it still makes your heart race in a way it shouldn’t despite your better judgment. “Can’t imagine better company than you, sugar.” Or, the new guy in town has a thing for the preacher's daughter and local nanny. It only goes downhill from there.
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 6.2k
Tags: smut, somewhat slow burn, afab reader, vaginal finering, vaginal sex, spanking, mean!dom graves, multiple orgasms, creampie, older man/younger woman, religious undertones that are really just an excuse for smut, mild breeding kink, mild sir kink, mild exhibitionism if you squint, corruption kink
Notes: i literally have no excuse for this. like at all. i'm not even really gonna say anything tbh. enjoy it or don't i'm just glad to finally be done with this beast.
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When you first notice Phillip Graves, it’s purely innocent curiosity that draws you to him. You’re at the park wrangling the children you nanny on the playground, sighing internally as Logan tries to launch himself off the playground again after what must have been your 30th time that hour telling him not to. Unluckily for you, as your back is turned David makes a break for the soccer field, leaving you with a disgruntled child’s hand in yours as you dragged him behind you, your long dress fluttering in the wind as you try and keep up with him. How are kids so fast when they have such short legs?
Before you know it David is almost at the field, you hot in his tails with Logan complaining loudly behind you about how unfair you are.
“David, what did I say about leaving without telling me? Come back here!” You sigh exasperatedly, speeding up as he approaches the field with the much older boys playing. You’ve almost given up on catching him when a man snags him by the top of his overalls, and panic overtakes you until you see the man turn David towards you, a soft but stern expression on his face.
“Listen to your sister, huh?” He says, pushing David back towards you. “Don’t cause her any trouble, ‘kay?”
David looks properly admonished at the words, silently slinking back to your side as you smile at the mystery man. He’s tall, his grey hair styled with a bit of gel and a horizontal scar lining his left cheek. You don’t recognize him, which is unusual considering how much time you and the boys spend in the park. It’s a small town, so a new face is always something to raise an eyebrow at.
“Thank you so much, sir.” You sigh, bending down and placing an admonishing hand on David’s shoulder. “Don’t run away from me like that, okay? You can’t leave me and Logan behind like that, it’s dangerous, David,” You say softly, and his head bows in shame as he nods it. It’s one of the worst parts of your job, you hate seeing the boys feeling bad. You pat his shoulder gently as Logan begins inspecting the grass next to you, probably looking for a bug to chase you with.. “You can go and play if you ask, okay? Just remember to wait for me next time.” Your heart lightens as a smile creeps onto his face and he nods, jogging up to the boys and starting a conversation on the field you can’t hear.
“I wanna play too!” Logan complains from his spot by the skirt of your dress, and you resist sighing as you crouch down to his level, taking one of his smaller hands into yours.
“I tell you what Logan, you go and ask if you can play, and if they say yes then you can. Does that sound good?” He nods, beaming as he runs to follow his brother, small feet sending bits of grass flying as he approaches the group. You chuckle at the sight, relaxing as the older boys accept Logan and David into their game without a second thought.
You wipe off your dress as you stand, looking up and realizing the stranger is still there, a soft but unreadable expression on his features.
“Are they always that much of a handful?” He asks, and you laugh as you watch them running on the field, a burst of fondness running through you at the sight.
“Only sometimes,” You reply, shaking your head as you remember all the times you thought you’d lost them, only to find them working on some sort of secret project in the woods behind their house or in their garage. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. David is going through a rebellious streak right now, it’s almost impossible to keep up with the two of them.”
He laughs at this, shaking his head in a way that makes his blue eyes glint in the sunlight of the park. “You’re doing great,” He assures, another small smile pulling across his face. “You’re a good sister.”
“Oh, we’re not siblings,” You say, a blush dusting your cheeks at the misunderstanding. “I’m their nanny, have been for about three years now.”
“You don’t say?” He replies, chuckling a bit at his own mistake. “Sorry ‘bout that, I just assumed.”
“That’s okay!” You say, smiling up at him as you fidget absentmindedly with the fabric of your dress. “I love them like they’re my own anyways.”
He nods again at this, a larger smile creeping up his face as he looks you up and down. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, and it puts you slightly on edge.
“I don’t think I’ve introduced myself,” He says, offering his right hand out for you to shake. “I’m Phillip Graves. I just moved in a few streets over.”
You smile at him, eyes drifting to where David and Logan are kicking the ball back and forth for a moment before returning to his face. You tell him your name and try not to blush at the way his slight accent drips around your name like honey as he repeats it back to you.
“That’s a nice name,” He chuckles. “Good for a sweet thing like you.”
His comment makes heat rise to your cheeks in a fury, and you duck your head to look back to Logan and David for a moment in an attempt to hide your face. You’re acting borderline improper, especially with a stranger, kind as he may be.
“Thank you sir,” you stumble out, taking a breath to steady yourself as you look back to him. “I like yours just fine.”
He laughs at that, and it makes your heart flutter but it shouldn’t, and you again find yourself looking to Logan and David for a welcome distraction. The boys are trying their best to keep up with the others, working as a team from opposite sides of the field. When you look back at him he’s smiling, and you find yourselves lost in conversation as the boys play. You learn he’s a soldier back after his latest tour, settling into town and checking out all the spots. You happily guide him to where your favorite restaurants in town are, the best days to get groceries when all the new stuff is in, and of course, about your father’s church.
Your father is the preacher of the town church, with almost every person in town cramming into the walls of the church every Sunday to listen to his sermons. You’re always there, dutifully modestly dolled up and in the front pew, hymns on your lips and nothing but smiles for everyone in town. Sometimes it’s excruciating, but you bear it for your parents, sleep pulling at your eyelids every morning as you woke up to tend to the chores and go to work at the Walker house.
Elias Walker is a hard man, you can think of only a few times you’ve seen him smile. He’s a military man through and through and expects the same of his children and military punctuality from you. The last time you were late he hadn’t let you forget it for weeks.
You nanny the boys since their mother passed, showing them kindness when you could in the cold Walker household. Childcare is the only job your father saw as befitting of a woman, so you found yourself at the house almost every day, save for when there was a church or social event your father wouldn’t allow you to miss.
Graves- ”Just Graves, none of that ‘Mister’ or ‘Sir’ crap.” he’d told you- is in the middle of telling you how his dog back home, Shadow, he calls it, had stolen his sandwich off his table when you realize the time, almost jumping out of your skin when you see how soon mister Walker is expecting the three of you home. You excuse yourself quickly, calling for Logan and David to return before giving him an apologetic smile.
“Looks like it’s time for us to be getting back, it was really nice to meet you, Graves.”
“You too sugar, see you on Sunday?”
-
Phillip Graves becomes a fixture in your life from that day forward. He can’t get over the way his name rolled off your tongue like candy, or the red that had dusted your cheeks at just a little flirting. He attends every sermon on Sunday, wearing his suit jacket and tie faithfully just to catch glimpses of you. He pretends his cock doesn’t press against his slacks at the way your cute little dresses fall over your hips, imagining his fingertips were there instead. He brings Shadow to the park more often, giving him an excuse to “bump into” you more often. In a few months, your entire family is wrapped around his finger.
He’s become a fixture in the neighborhood, always out at barbecues or working on his car in the driveway when he isn’t at the park with Shadow. Your mother adores him, always greeting him with a large smile whenever he comes knocking. Your father isn’t as easily persuaded, always wary of military men and their tricks. But soon enough he’s inviting Graves out on fishing trips and to Sunday dinner, not that you’re complaining.
You’re currently sitting on the lawn of one of your neighbors, the sweet scent of barbecue hanging in the stifling summer air as people mill about in the driveway. David and Logan are playing basketball in the cul-de-sac with the other neighborhood boys, Elias absent as always from the festivities. Your father is being pulled in every single direction, your mother busy inside the house preparing appetizers and drinks for the men outside.
It’s a rare moment of solitude for you, grass kissing the hem of your skirt as you take another sip of your lemonade. The congregation have mostly left you to your own devices as you watch the two roady boys, almost becoming invisible in the crowd of people as everyone chatters amongst themselves.
“This seat taken?”
The words startle you out of your reverie, your head snapping up at the familiar voice. Graves. A smile comes over your face before you can control it, shaking your head as you scoot over on the grass to accommodate your new companion. He grunts as he sits down on the grass next to you, his knees bent in front of his chest with his arms resting over them casually. Your eyes zero in on the beer in his hand. Alcohol is a rarity in town, your only experiences with it being the communion wine and the bourbon in Elias’s liquor cabinet. You pretend not to notice, smiling again at Graves as he situates himself in the grass.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone, huh?” He asks, a teasing glint in his eye as your face lights up pink. You’d think you would be used to his casual flirting by now, but it still makes your heart race in a way it shouldn’t despite your better judgment.
“The boys decided they have better company.” You reply, extending a hand to where the pickup game has increased in intensity, various yells punctuating the constant sound of the ball bouncing against the pavement.
“Can’t imagine better company than you, sugar.” He retorts, nudging you gently with his elbow and causing your face to flush again.
“Oh hush, you,” You reply, giggling into your hand to mask the blush on your cheeks. You almost jump out of your skin as his arm snakes around your shoulders, shaking you playfully in response to your quip. You will your mind not to linger on the intoxicating woody scent of his cologne as it fills your nose, trying to banish the improper thoughts from your mind. He fits in well with the townspeople, a plaid flannel rolled up to his elbows and pair of worn jeans fitting in seamlessly with everyone else. You try not to let your eyes linger on his forearms, strong and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat in the sweltering heat.
“Just when I thought you were starting to like me, darlin’, I’m hurt,” He says, his bottom lip sticking out in a fake pout.
“I like you plenty,” You admit carefully, trying to steer the conversation to small talk. “You’re just a flatterer.”
“I only flatter what I like,” He admits back, and panic races through you as you look around the crowd. Nobody is looking at the two of you, your conversation looking like a friendly banter to any outsiders. A mix of relief and anxiety settles in your stomach at the realization, the wind ruffling the edges of your light dress. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of your body, one arm holding you up with a hand in the firm grass and the other fidgeting with the hem fabric of your dress. Your entire body is turned toward him and you’re caught between the urge to lean closer, and god he wishes you would.
He can’t get enough of the pretty blush on your face at his words, and the way you've laid out for him like a fucking meal lights him on fire. He only partially listens as you stumble out something about him being ’too kind’ or something like that, the way your chest looks in that dress is justtoo pretty for him to pass up.
“You know how to drive?” He asks, and you’re taken off guard momentarily by the question, but grateful for any way to save face.
“Yes, but only for things in town like errands and whatnot.” You reply. “Not much else. Got my license and everything, why?” There’s something you can’t read that flicks by at your answer, and you don’t have time to analyze it before he’s replying, words smooth as honey.
“I have a complicated fix I need to do on old Betty I could use an extra pair of hands with. ‘Sides, I’m sure Shadow would love to see ya again.”
“Me?” You ask, more shocked than anything at his offer. A shameful rush of excitement goes through you at the words, equal in your confusion. “I don’t know much about cars, just how to drive them, sir,” You say, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine I’d be much help.”
“‘Course you would,” He assures, a lazy smile on his lips as he takes another sip of his beer. “I just need an extra pair of hands is all, all the folks out here are no help. Everyone has their own idea of the right fix.”
“Oh.” Is all you can think to say in reply, mentally mapping out your schedule for the week. You can’t deny the offer is enticing. The part of you that’s getting louder and louder these days that you’ve been working so damn hard to suppress makes you want to take him up on his offer, basks in the attention he’s giving just to you. You doubt your father would even blink an eye at the request, and your mother would probably give you cookies to bring him, as close as he was to your family now.
“I’m free on Friday after watching the boys.” You offer, eyes drifting over to the basketball court for any sort of distraction from the burning in your cheeks.
“Well, honey, it’s a date.”
-
You find yourself worrying about what to wear on Friday a little too much for your own liking. It takes almost half an hour of rifling through your closet until you could find the right dress. You choose a white sundress, the hem dancing above your knee in a way you know would catch gossip if anyone were to see. As forbidden as it is it makes you feel beautiful in a way that’s new, the shape accentuating your figure in a way that feels simultaneously pretty and scandalous.
Your parents are both thankfully working that morning, and Elias only gives you a moment’s glance before deciding your outfit isn’t worth the trouble. Logan and David don’t even register the change, too busy arguing over who gets to throw the ball for Riley.
When you leave the Walker house you can feel a whole army of butterflies in your stomach, your entire being buzzing for a reason you can’t quite put your finger on. You’re almost vibrating by the time you ring his doorbell, nervous energy sitting in your chest like a vice. The sweltering summer heat does you no favors, the sunshine hot against your exposed skin.
He opens the door and your heart just about stops at the sight. He’s in a tight grey shirt, specks of oil dotting the fabric where it stretches across his chest and arms. You will yourself not to look lower, but you find no escape in looking at his face either. Sweat beads on his forehead, a few small streaks stray of oil lining his face. Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?
“Thought you’d never show up, honey.” He says, his eyes burning a trail up and down your body. Shadow wiggles excitedly behind him, black tail thumping against his legs as he lets out a chuckle that definitely should not make you want to squeeze your thighs together at the sound. “This guy certainly missed ya.”
“I like to keep my promises,” You reply as he invites you inside, Shadow excitedly sniffing you as you scratch behind his ears. His house is minimalistic, only a few various medals and declarations on the walls with a fairly bare-bones furniture set up.
“You want some lemonade? Just got some from Lillian down the street.” He offers, gently shooing Shadow away when he starts to step on your toes for attention. You happily agree, following him through the house to the kitchen. Shadow disappears somewhere in your walk, distracted by a toy lying in the hallway as you walk.
“Awfully nice of her to bring it over.” You comment, eyes dancing over where you can see little gifts from all the women in the neighborhood. It makes something hot and ugly surge up in you, trying your best to suppress the feeling as he opens the refrigerator.
He chuckles again at your words, setting out two glasses on the counter as he pours you both a drink.
“Sure is.” He agrees, walking over to where you’ve settled yourself at the counter with your drinks. “A shame for her I ain’t interested in her, though.”
His fingers brush yours as he hands you your glass, sparks shooting through you at the contact. He’s intoxicatingly close now, the smell of his cologne mixed with motor oil almost suffocating in the space between you. You feel small from where he has you crowded against the counter, something like hunger in his eyes as they trail to the hem of your dress.
“Oh?” You ask, mind working a mile a minute as he smirks at your reply.
“I like my peaches a little sweeter,” He says, stretching out an arm behind you to rest on the counter while your grip on your glass turns almost white-knuckled as your face burns up. “Your father let you out of the house in this?” He asks, eyes unashamedly drinking you in as you try to come up with a reply.
“I’m an adult, I can wear what I want.” You say defensively, looking everywhere but him as your thoughts race. His lazy smile widens at your words, blue eyes lit up with mirth as he leans impossibly closer.
“Are ya now?” He questions, not even giving you time to answer before he’s speaking again. “‘Cuz if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me riled up.”
“I-I-” You stutter, cut off by him as he places his drink behind you, using both arms to cage you against the counter as you try and collect your words.
“Pretty little thing like you shows up at my doorstep all alone dressed like that, what’s a man supposed to think?” The accusation cuts, even if it’s true, but you don’t have it in you to argue, not when his eyes seem to take you apart in front of him.
“I just wanted to look pretty,” You say, because it’s true but also because it’s the only thing your mind can conjure up, too lost in the way one of his hands strays to brush against the hem of your dress.
“Yeah, baby? And who’d you want to look pretty for? Givin’ old Elias a show?”
You shake your head slowly, eyes big and honest as you stare up at him.
“Maybe you just wanted to show up at my doorstep and tease me, hm? Think I don’t see what you’re doing here, princess?” He says, and your entire body burns because it’s true and you both know it.
“Comin’ all alone to my house dressed like this, makes me think you want me to bend you over and show you a good time, huh?”
“And if I do?”
“Oh honey, I’ll make your day.”
Suddenly he’s everywhere, his hands desperately bunching themselves in the waistline of your dress as he presses you against the counter. His face is only centimeters from yours, his eyes dark and hungry as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. He’s like a wall of muscle, his body flush with yours as he eyes you up and down like a hungry animal. You can feel yourself getting wet as he bullies a leg between yours, his strong thigh pressing against your center in a way that makes you almost gasp out loud as he presses searing hot kisses along the column of your neck.
“Tell me to stop baby, this is your last chance,” He says, and it sounds like he’s almost begging, for what you aren’t sure. All you are sure of is the way his muscled thigh is pressing against your clit in a way that makes your entire world spin as your arms find their place around his shoulders, quiet mewls spilling from your lips as he nips and sucks at the skin of your neck.
“Please, don’t-” And before you even finish your sentence he’s pulling away, and some sort of primal panic thrashes itself in your chest as you tug him closer by his shirt. “Don’t stop, sir, please,” You plead, eyes desperate as you cling to him.
“Fuck, baby…” He breathes, relief flooding his blue eyes as his hands find your waist again. His words sound reverent in the silence of the kitchen, your uneven breaths the only sounds in the room. “You come over here all dolled up,” His hands travel down to your hips, playing with the plush flesh under his fingertips. “Beg me to fuck you,” His lips are next to your ear, nipping your neck between words. “Well, that makes you a proper slut, honey.” His leg has returned to its place between yours, a constant reminder of your own arousal.
“‘m not-” Your protest is cut off by a moan as he rolls his thigh upward at your protest. Pleasure sparks from your clit as he laughs meanly against your ear.
“Don’t try lyin’ to me, baby,” He says, a cruel smirk on his face as his hands find their way under your dress to rest against your ass. “Your little pussy is tellin’ me all the truth I need to hear.”
An aborted yelp leaves your lips as your feet leave the ground, your entire weight suddenly supported by Graves’ toned arms. You find yourself giggling as he carries you through the house, almost breaking his own door down in the process. It all feels more real when he throws you onto the bed, a predatory gaze in his eyes as his hands move to his belt, the metal clanking loudly in the hot silence of the room. You can feel your own arousal coating your panties as you almost salivate at the bulge forming in the front of his jeans.
You’re confused when he sits at the edge of the bed, the belt still in his hand as he manhandles you onto his lap with the other, not even giving you a chance to process as he flips the skirt of your dress up, the leather of his belt stroking against the curve of your ass.
“Maybe some lickings will set you right, baby.” His words shouldn’t make you squeeze your thighs together, and neither should the sharp pain of his belt against your skin. He knows you’re getting off on this, a reassuring hand on the small of your back as he rains down four blows in quick succession. Your hips shouldn’t cant up against the contact, you shouldn’t be whining and moaning as you squirm on his lap, every hit only making the heat under your skin intensify.
“Yeah, you like this, huh, princess?” He says, not even giving you a chance to answer before the belt comes down again, a quiet whine leaving your lips as you look back at him. “You just needed a little bit of help to admit it to yourself, huh baby?” His eyes shine as you nod at the words, arching your back against where his now empty hand is trailing over the skin of your ass.
“Please stop teasing me,” You beg, and for a moment his eyes soften and you think he’s going to take mercy on you, only for his hand to slap you cunt through your panties, the pain and pleasure making you gasp as you pull your hips away.
“I make the rules here, sweetheart.” He says, his voice still warm but stern and final. His hand gently traces your folds over your soaked folds in apology. “Now I’m gonna open you up nice and slow for me, and you’re gonna cum all over my fingers like a good pretty little thing, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” You say, feeling small under his piercing gaze. A deep groan leaves his chest as he pulls the soaked fabric of your panties to the side to reveal your soaked pussy. His free hand holds you open as he sinks a finger inside your tight heat, both of you moaning at the feeling. You clench around his finger, trying to keep what little composure you have left as the blood roars in your ears.
“Look at that, honey,” He says, almost breathless as he eases a second finger to join the first, both gliding into your welcoming pussy as he begins slowly curling the digits up. “Takin’ it so well, yeah, you’ve wanted this.”
You nod against the sheets, another laugh greeting your response as his fingers find your clit, pinching it meanly before rubbing slow, deliberate circles against the bud. His fingers feel heavenly, working you open slowly as you whine and moan into the sheets. When two become three the moan you let out is obscene, the stretch just enough to send a new wave of desire up your spine.
“Oh fuck, keep makin’ those noises for me,” He drawls, fingers now steadily pumping in and out of your heat as obscene noises fill the room. He’s efficient with how he works you open, long, disciplined fingers crooking just right to reach the spot that has you seeing stars from where your face is hidden in the mattress. It’s delicious torture, the sweet pleasure of his fingers in your puffy cunt mixing with the sting of the skin on your ass as you grind back unconsciously into his hand.
His digits that are pressed against your clit start moving faster, setting a slow but unforgiving pace as your orgasm approaches. It feels humiliating, cumming all over his fingers while you’re over his knees all helpless and fucked out.
“‘m gonna-” You try to warn him about your oncoming orgasm, but all he does is move his fingers faster against your clit, three fingers pulsing in and out of your clenching heat as you fall apart underneath him.
“Yeah, that’s right baby, cum all over my fingers like a good little slut,” He encourages, voice low and heated as you feel the tension between your legs suddenly snap, creaming all over his fingers as he slowly fucks you through it, whispered reassurances like “that’s my fuckin’ girl” “such a sweet little thing” “so good for me” filtering past your ears in a daze.
You whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, clenching around nothing as he repositions you onto your back, hushed reassurances placating you as he slides your panties down your legs. Your dress is the next to go, thrown in some random corner of the room as he’s on you again, one hand kneading the flesh of your tits as the other works to unbutton his jeans. It leaves only your gold cross necklace, the delicate charm reminding you of how wrong the situation is, but it feels so right.
You’re distracted out of your thoughts as Graves pulls his shirt over his head. He’s a battle-scarred vision, long healed bullet wounds and slashes of scars dot his toned body. You’re almost dizzy at the sight of his cock when he releases it from the confines of his jeans, thick and heavy with precum leaking from the ruddy tip. “Like what you see, buttercup?” He asks and you’re nodding before you know it, a curious hand reaching down to feel its weight.
He hisses in a sharp breath as you wrap your hand around him, and you can feel yourself getting impossibly wetter as you imagine it inside of you, stretching and filling you to the brim. It’s thick and hard, veiny in all the right places as it kicks in your hand from the contact.
“You like that dick in your hands, pretty baby?” He prods, using his own to spread your thighs apart, admiring the red glow of your still-sensitive ass as your delicate fingers explore the length of his cock. “I promise it’ll feel even better inside you, sweetheart.”
The promise makes you squirm, gasping as the tip catches against your clit. You desperately roll your hips down against the friction. You try and angle him against your opening, a whimper leaving you as the head rests against your drenched hole.
“You want it that bad, baby?” He asks mockingly, a hand sliding under your knee and pinning your leg against the mattress.
“Need it, please,” You beg, clenching around nothing before he gently presses into you, the stretch sweet and slick from your previous orgasm as he eases the head into your addicting heat.
“Shit, baby, bein’ so good and honest for me,” He groans, slowly pressing in deeper as you whimper and moan on his cock. “That’s it huh, your pretty pussy’s been honest since the start, baby,” He coos. You barely register it, too high on the sweet stretch of him filling you to care. “Your mind just needed a minute to catch up to her, huh?”
“Fuck- Feels so good,” You admit, because it does and you’re certain you’re ruined for anyone else by the time he has you pinned halfway down on his cock. His blue eyes burn holes into yours as he takes in your rosy cheeks, the heaving of your flushed chest, the sparkle of the beginnings of tears in your eyes and you look likesin.
He turns his gaze to where your bodies meet, the final few inches of him steadily feeding into your pussy. It takes all of his restraint to not just fold you in half and fuck you like a real man. But he’s patient with you, ravaging your neck with love bites as he fucks you deep and slow, relishing in the way your hands scrabble around his shoulders.
It’s fucking addicting, the drag of his cock in your pussy feels like some sort of absolution as all of a sudden Graves is all you can focus on, your mind cloudy as you clench around him.
“Such a sweet little thing you are, makin’ all those noises for me. You belong here, honey. Gonna keep you on my cock whenever I can, you were made for this.” It shouldn’t send a wave of arousal through you at the thought, but it’s addicting. He’s addicting.
“You really liked that, huh baby? You got so tight, maybe I’ll have to follow through. Bend you over on your little kitchen counter and fuck your brains out. Play with your cute little pussy under your dress at dinner, fuck you stupid in the church bathroom every Sunday.”
Everything is too much, the way the head of his dick bullies against your cervix, the promise of next time almost sending you over the edge as his thrusts gain power, knocking the thoughts from your mind as you feel another orgasm building, grinding back into his thrusts as he pumped in and out of your hole. His lips are on yours, devouring everything you can give him as you fuck yourself back onto him.
“Fuuck sweetheart, you gonna cum again? Make a mess all over me like a good girl?” He moans, the obscene noise of wet skin on skin filling the room as you whine an affirmative, tipping over the edge into your second orgasm as his hand moves from holding your leg to playing with your clit, the contact making your entire body jump as you ride out your high on his cock.
He fucks you steadily through it, his thrusts growing quick and desperate as he chases his own climax. You’re whining softly in his ear, reminding him to pull out but he can’t, not when you’re squeezing around him in a way that drives all sense out of his head.
“No honey, ‘m gonna fill you up, just be a good girl and take it,” He soothes as his hips stutter, and as much as you hate yourself for it, you want it so bad. Something primal in you keens at the promise of being filled, thrill at the risk making your pussy flutter.
“Gonna breed this sweet pussy nice and full, and then you’re gonna pull up those cute little panties and keep it inside until you get home.” He grits out, the fantasy making your heart race in your chest as his thrusts become almost frantic. “I’ll buy you the pill tomorrow, I guarantee it sweetheart, I just need to cum inside this pussy so fucking bad,” he groans, and you moan as you feel hot ropes of cum paint your walls, Graves slowly fucking it in deeper as you squirm from overstimulation.
“Look at that,” He marvels, eyes fixed on your pussy as he pulls out. He’s hypnotized by how your tired cunt spasms around nothing as his cum begins to leak out. You groan as he slips three fingers down to plug up your hole as, true to his word, he slips your panties back up your legs as you catch your breath. He’s much more tender, hands gently tracing the curves of your thighs and hips as he kisses up your neck before sealing your lips together. It feels like a confession, absolution, and forgiveness all at once. You don’t know how long you both sit there, trading kisses in the afterglow as you both come back to Earth.
He’s even gentler as he eases the straps of your dress up your body until you’re “presentable” again, still smelling like sin and sex as he holds you like a treasure. You’re due back for dinner, and you don’t want your parents asking questions about why you look absolutely debauched after going to your older neighbor’s house. He follows you to the door, crowding you against the wood to press a few extra kisses onto your lips before you leave.
“Will I see you again, sweetheart?” He asks, surprisingly vulnerable as he brushes a stray hair from your face.
“I sure hope so,” You reply, giggling before pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “You have some promises to fulfill.”
“And I will, honey.” He growls, gently giving a playful swat to your sensitive ass as you turn to leave. The sting makes you yelp, giggling as you steal another kiss from him before whisking yourself out of his house and down his driveway.
“See you Sunday, sir.”
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ko-fi
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exhausted-archivist · 29 days
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A really interesting article from EuroGamer talking about map making in fantasy, but specifically Dragon Age, was released yesterday.
I've found it really interesting to hear from map makers of games and fantasy but also Gaider talking about how the Thedas map was made. I will probably break this down later because I have a lot of thoughts.
I'll include the maps below the cut. These are photo copied maps that Gaider made to map out the history of Thedas. Strongly recommend reading the article to hear the thought process that he shared.
It was also shared that while he did these maps, the final map we're all so familiar with was done by an artist without his input. To quote:
Some things bother David Gaider about the Dragon Age 1 map, still, and they occurred when artists prettied his sketches without his involvement. "Oh," he said awkwardly when they were presented to him. "I didn't want it to look like this, exactly." He says they added a lot more rivers and mountains, and flipping between his sketches and the Dragon Age: Origins map, you can see some have moved around, or gained prominence, and places like Redcliffe have shifted. Apparently people would take to the BioWare forums after the game came out to complain about the map's geography. "And I'm like, 'You know what? You got a point,'" Gaider says. This is mostly anger at himself, though, for not doing more about it. Similarly, he wishes he'd been able to sit down with artists and work out what the rest of the continent you don't see in his sketches looked like, so they didn't have to have "the continent just keeps going..."-like messages at the edge of it. "But to where?" Gaider says.
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14 & 23 for David x Reader. 🥺 pretty please, no particular genre in mind so you can use your imagination 🖤
Thank you so much for requesting, love! I hope you'll like this💜 it got way longer than I expected, and a whole bit sadder and angstier than I initially intended. Still, I hope you like this!
My requests are still open and if you want you can use this promptlist!
14. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"
23. "Why wouldn't I save you?"
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It had been three months since I met him, two since we started to hang out regularly. Two months since I met his friends, saw his place, and went out for dinner with him. And yet, if you asked me if we were a thing - whether that was a couple or a "friends with benefits" kind of thing - I wouldn't be able to answer you. We did things normal couples did. We went on dates, we kissed sometimes, we even had sex. And yet, he was cold and distant, and I could never quite read him. I didn't know what he thought of me, if he actually cared for me, or just saw me as a fling. I didn't even know if I cared about that - but even so, I think I would like to know. Just to know where I'd stand with him.
Even though I had many doubts and thoughts plaguing my mind, I still couldn't help but feel excited whenever I saw him walking towards me on the boardwalk. He was alone this time, his friends probably going off to torment some tourists.
"I didn't expect to see you so early," I smiled at him.
"You're not complaining, are you?" David asked, and I couldn't help but quickly shake my head.
"Absolutely not! Just surprised, is all. What are we going to do tonight?"
"We're going to the cave. Have you eaten yet?"
"No, I just got here. Can we get some noodles? I've heard about this new place, and I've been dying to try it."
"Sure," I didn't catch his smile. If I had, I might have known what he thought - if even for a moment. If I had seen, none of the shitshow that would go down later that evening would have happened.
We got some food ready to go, and before I knew it, we were racing down the boardwalk heading towards the cave. He was speeding a lot, more so than usual. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I refrained myself from doing so. I didn't know what, but something about him seemed as if he was nervous. I was certain that if I asked him now, he would not only not hear me, but he also would not answer me. I held on tighter, closing my eyes as he drove even faster. I didn't dare to look, too afraid to see that he might lose control of the bike, hit a tree, or worse.
I screamed as he suddenly, with great force, pulled the breaks.
"What's going on with you?!" I asked as I tried to catch my breath.
David ignored me, instead walking down the stairs leading to the cave.
"David! Answer me, dammit!"
"Come get your food."
I sighed. That man could be so frustrating! How much effort did it take to actually give a straight answer. "Oh sorry, didn't sleep well, didn't mean to scare you" or a "The boys and I had a fight, don't worry about it" could have been enough. It would explain everything. But no, he just ignored my question, left me at the top of the hill. Bloody asshole.
As I followed him inside after gathering not only my thoughts but also my courage, I froze. The cave was covered in candles, every where.
"David?" I called out, not seeing him anywhere. I jumped when he suddenly appeared beside me. "What's this?"
"You drive me insane."
I looked at him puzzled, my look enough to tell him I needed him to explain what he meant. He ignored my silent question, instead walking away from me. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him.
"How do I drive you insane? Do you really think that I feel any differently?"
David chuckled. "Is that you saying you want more out of this?"
"Maybe? I don't know? All I know is that I can't do this much longer. I don't want to circle around each other and not be anything to each other."
"I don't do love."
I froze. After two months, is this how he wanted to break it off? We're those two months, with dates, dinners, and sex really just that? Had I been an easy fix for him? I huffed, turned around, and stomped out of the cave. If he didn't want me, fine. He wouldn't get me.
As I ran up the stairs, I noticed how slippery they had gotten. It had started to rain. Ice cold streams of water poured down on me, but I didn't care. I had to get away. I had to make up my mind and choose for me, not for a man who was unwilling to admit he might have liked me - and not even brave enough to straight up say that our companionship - for lack of a better word - was over.
I ran up the final steps, yelping as I slipped in the mud. I slid far away from the stairs, and before I knew it, I couldn't feel the ground under me anymore. Desperately my hands tried to cling on to something, but it was of no use.
I fell.
And I fell fast.
I screamed.
I cried out.
I didn't dare to look down. I knew the cliffs underneath were sharp. I knew the water was shallow. I knew that this was it. I would die.
I closed my eyes, preparing for impact.
It never came.
Strong arms wrapped around me. Someone held me close. Held me tight. "You're fine, you're safe. You can open your eyes now."
"D-David?"
Why would he save me after telling me to go? As if he read my mind, he answered my question as he looked me over.
"Why wouldn't I save you?"
"You practically broke up with me."
He chuckled. "I had a poor choice of words."
I frowned. What in the hell had he been trying to say then, if this wasn't it?"
"What?"
"You drive me insane. Every single thing you do makes me want to worship the ground you walk on. You don't even know you're doing it. I don't do love, but for you -" he paused as he looked me over once again to make sure I really was alright, "For you, I am willing to try."
"You're in love with me? I thought - I thought you hated me! That -"
"Like I said, poor choice of words. If you want some eloquent poetic shit, you probably have to ask Dwayne or Paul, they're better at that kind of stuff."
I couldn't help but giggle, even though a part of me was still rather angry. Damn that fucking infuriating man. How difficult was it to say, "I like you?"! Was he afraid his carefully constructed image would crumble if he said so, or was he afraid someone would hear that he could was actually quite gentle and sweet and not a big baddie?
"Why the fuck were you so cold and distant towards me, then? If you love me-"
"I didn't know how to tell you."
"You are an idiot."
He actually looked a little ashamed before nodding. "Yeah."
"You do realise you really hurt me, right?"
"Yeah. I didn't mean to."
I sighed, nodding. I looked at my hands, noticing they were covered in tiny cuts because of the fall. I bit my lip, wondering how the evening had ended up in such a mess.
"Let me see," David took my hands, wiping some dirt off of them. He was quiet for a moment, before looking at me with a small grin. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"
A soft smile appeared on my face. As much as an idiot he had been, he was also sorry - and I know realised that the candles, and him being so distant had been because of how much he had tried to make a romantic evening happen, even though it was very much unlike him. As much as I still felt a little conflicted, I couldn't stay truly mad at him. He was sorry. So I looked at him.
"How about you just kiss me instead?"
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nightgoodomens · 4 days
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In Georgia’s video about the chocolate when she was insisting on David explain the history of the boost you can actually see him give an exhausted and annoyed sigh before getting into it. It’s not only the fact that he immediately declined talking about her stupid chocolate content, it’s the fact that she immediately insisted on it and went on to force him to talk about it even when he said no. I can’t get over the way she was so quick to say “no I think they do” when he said no. It’s just so… I don’t even know what to say about it it’s actually insane to me
He just simply doesn’t want to be used as her content puppet so “her followers” (his actually) get a stupid video. He voices it every time. When he complains how it will never end, when he says “no I don’t think they do” and when you hear all the “Jesus” and “oh god”.
He works so much I assume he just wants off time, but when he’s home it’s “sorry it’s time for ✨content✨ for my insta, David.”
It’s sad for him that she has made nothing but a brand out of him to get attention that she’s clearly starving for. It’s sad for her that she has nothing interesting to show for herself. Dare I say it’s sad for this relationship that they have nothing interesting to post about with both of them.
It’s sad that she’d put all this effort into a video about chocolate but gave him nothing of substance for a BAFTAs nomination.
If he showed that he enjoys making those videos I’d still think they’re stupid but hey if they both like them, good for them. But he doesn’t try to appear like he likes them, more and more it’s the opposite. And people gasp when you say this feels more like a business relationship than a loving one but… I’m just commenting on what’s shown to me.
Also I really don’t like when anybody gets a camera shoved in their faces when they say no.
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ordinaryschmuck · 1 month
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So, I finally watched Hazbin Hotel...
Weird, given how I talked about it a bunch. Heck, one of my top rated posts at the moment is my interpretation regarding the fear in Alastor's eyes during his breakdown. But despite having opinions on Hazbin Hotel, I've never really checked the show out, especially as it was coming out. I was kind of waiting for all episodes to get released so I could binge it all in one sitting, but I kept pushing that off until TODAY, and...I have thoughts.
Pros:
Love the animation of the show. Every praise I could give animation is present, with each character being incredibly expressive, their movements fluid, and the animators know when to be stiff for comedic scenes and giving their all for the big musical numbers or action.
I also love the way these characters look. I hear people complain about how overdesigned everything is, and that's valid. I would NOT want to animate this show due to every detail that I'd have to keep track of. But...if we can still praise Spider-Verse despite the animators being under torturous conditions as they make every frame a work of art, we can give the animators the same pat on the back here for making this show look as good as it is. Besides, a few years ago we had people complaining how every western cartoon looks the same. Now we have a show that's the most visually distinct than a lot of animated series coming out today and now we're complaining about that? I'm a man who admires effort more than anything, and while I agree that simpler is better with televised animation, I'm still proud that the animators pulled through in this.
The songs are all great, with personal favorites being "Loser, Baby," "Hell's Greatest Dad," "Stayed Gone," "Hell is Forever," and "You Didn't Know." The weakest one is probably "Whatever it Takes," but it's not really BAD, not me. Just not as strong as the others. I dug this soundtrack and it was the main thing that suck me into this show.
Charlie, as a protagonist, is pretty strong. I love the irony of the daughter of Hell is the nicest person in existence and her frustrations in making the Hazbin Hotel a success a delight because you WANT her to succeed as much as everyone else does. Plus, where most adult comedies make their protagonists cynical a-holes, it's a nice change of pace to have a hopeful one that apologizes as she's fighting people. Love it.
Angel Dust is easy to root for. What he goes through with Valentino is...something that someone like me can't fully grasp and understand, let alone judge. But I personally feel like it does the job to show the tragedy that this character goes through and allows you to root for him to get better.
And I like that Husk is right there to support Angel Dust, being a sort of conscience to protect him despite how much Angel gets on Husk's nerves. I also dig that they grow closer together, treating each other with mutual respect and admiration. It's sweet and I hope things turn out well for these two. Plus, he's voiced by Kieth David. The man can't do wrong.
Nifty is the funniest character in the show, and I will hear no disagreements about it.
Sir Pentious is a lovable loser who's the second funniest character. He reminds me of Papyrus from Undertale, trying so hard to prove that he's strong and powerful only to hilariously fail at every turn. You really root for the guy to get better and feel grateful that he finds happiness in a way I'm not sure anyone could have expected.
Rosie only appeared in one episode, and she's already my favorite. The gal's chipper and supportive towards Charlie, to the point where I completely forgot that she was a cannibal overlord who killed her partner to take full control of the business. Again, I love the irony of characters like this.
Lucifer was more fun than expected. I thought he'd be Mr. Serious, but he's just as bombastic and fun-loving as Charlie and Jeremy Jordan sounds like he's having the time of his life being this character to the point where it's addicting.
Vox has the potential to be a great antagonist and it's a crime that he only has ONE episode with relevance. Hoping he gets more in the future.
And Alastor. I love the concept of a character always smiling with the only thing betraying him are his eyes. As someone who takes joy in facial expressions, I always have a great time trying to analyze a character's restrictions and seeing how they emote, especially when animators and artists utilize a character's eyes to do most of the talking. That's done here in spades, making Alastor more interesting of an evil character as he keeps people guessing with his devious smile, not even dropping it when he's having a mental breakdown.
All and all, I can see how this show can draw in an audience...BUT...
Cons:
The comedy misses more than it hits. The funniest stuff comes from Nifty and Sir Pentious, but other than that, I don't really laugh much with this show. The dramatic moments work decently enough, so that's a pro, but when it's trying to make you laugh, it crumbles for the most part.
The constant swearing does get on one's nerves a bit. Dialogue, more than anything, depends on character. And to have EVERYONE swear almost consistently feels like a misstep. Because if everyone shares a similar level of lingo, then how can you differentiate a character's line on paper. Plus, I feel like it cheapens certain character. Saint Peter, the man who greets you at the pearly gates, shouldn't be another character that goes, "Oh, shit" when him going "Oh, shucks" speaks more about who is compared to everyone else and gives a glimpse into how different Heaven is from Hell.
The dialogue also hurts a character like Adam too. I want to buy that he's Earth's first man, but having him talk like a douchebag rockstar kind of takes me out of it a bit. Like, the way he talks doesn't sound like how the first human being should sound. He sounds like a guy who died in the late eighties, which SHOULD be funny but it's too distracting too much of the time when a character who talks like an old man who's ignorant to modern thinking could have had so much to say about what Heaven deems as worthy to be up above. They nailed the ignorance, but had him speak it in a way that doesn't fit humanity's first man. Maybe less "Call me Dickmaster" and more more "Call me Sir."
Vaggie...is FINE, I guess? But her character faces the same problems as Millie in Helluva Boss, where most of her personality and character is dependent on the relationship she has with another.
I'm also not a fan of Chaggie. I'm sorry. I'm in love with the ship dynamic of the stern, responsible one paired with the bubbly optimist. Heck, I'm a Lumity shipper because of it. But Chaggie just...WHELMS me. I don't hate them together but I'm not foaming at the mouth with each cute scene they share either. Honestly, I ship Charlie more with Emily than I do Vaggie, which...sucks for Vaggie, I guess. But Emily deserves love in her life too, dammit.
And the pacing for this season really is bad. I don't think the problem with this show is that it had eight episodes. Less is more is a phrase for a reason and we don't need twenty episode long seasons for EVERY show. I prefer it, don't get me wrong. Allows characters the a chance to breath and allows the story to take its time more. But what kills Hazbin Hotel's first season is that it feels like a three-season long story just got wrapped up into ONE. I'm sure there's more plans with Heaven, the Vees, and especially Lilith, but to have the season end with the next extermination feels like Avatar ending its first season with Souzin's Comet. There's so much the characters need to do and prepare for in so little time, ending a status quo shaking event, that I feel like a smarter idea would have been splitting this season's story line up into three parts. I mean, unless the cast and crew didn't know ahead of time that they'd only get eight episodes a season, why not have a little faith that they could have split the story up better? Because otherwise, it makes the show feel like it went by way too quickly. Eight episodes isn't a problem, but how they use those eight episodes DO.
So, while I can absolutely see why Hazbin Hotel could have its fans, I can also see how it can put people off. The style and characters work well enough, but the dialogue, jokes, and story need much more polish. It's not the worst, but not the best either. I hope things improve in Season Two and that the show itself can redeem ITSELF in the future.
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inmymagnetoera · 9 days
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A little fic with David 8 & Charles Xavier (future relationship maybe?) because I love that little xenomorph-loving android.
David didn't choose his name, he didn't choose his tastes and he definitely didn't choose this too light hair color. David just has to make his creator understand this.
_________________
A heart of metal and cables
David got up at 6.05 a.m like every day. He opened the capsule where he closed himself for the night in order to recharge his batteries and after putting on some slippers (he didn't feel cold, but his creator had said that humans did) and went to the kitchen to prepare some coffee for the professor.
He prepared it as he prepared it every day: Three quarters of a cup, a teaspoon of sugar and a little bit of milk, because the professor always complained that the coffee tasted too bitter. He went to his creator's room, already knowing he wouldn't find him there but doing so out of habit, heading into the laboratory almost immediately afterwards. When he opened the door, he saw the professor hunched over his desk examining some documents. He looked up when he heard the door open.
“David, my friend, you are a blessing!” The professor exclaimed, getting up from his chair and taking his coffee. The smoke from the cup fogged his glasses and he immediately withdrew his mouth when he felt the excessive heat.
"Were you awake all night again, Professor?" David asked, remaining rigid in his position as he always did.
“You have to call me Charles, David, how many times do I have to tell you?” He continued to blow on the steaming liquid as he sat back down.
“More times than eight, as I never learned in my previous seven releases, Professor.”
"I didn't remember programming you with sarcasm, my friend." His creator said without looking at him but with a small smile.
"Do you need anything else?" When the professor responded negatively, he left the room and continued with his day's tasks. He watered the flowers on the porch, fed the professor's turtles, cleaned the floors and windows, and finally began preparing dinner.
David hated this.
He didn't hate the professor, no, he could never hate his creator, he didn't even hate the turtles for that matter, but David needed freedom. If he did something outside of his program or without the professor's permission, his systems would short out and the professor would have to reactivate him, a very long and tedious process for both of them. David wanted to change. He wanted lighter eyes, darker hair, he wanted to wear something different from this horrible gray jacket and above all he wanted to be more human, but how could he tell the professor? Would he be scared? Would he turn David off forever?
“I can hear you thinking, my friend.” His creator said coming up behind him.
"I can't think, professor, I'm a machine." David said turning to face the other person. Charles looked at him and put his hands on his hips.
"If I had wanted you to be just a machine, David, I wouldn't have given you a name. You can think and you know it. You are much more than just an android." The professor smiled at him and, after taking a pen from the counter, was about to leave before David stopped him.
"If I... If I'm not a machine, then what am i? I'm not a person if i can't have free will. Wouldn't it be right to give it to me?" He asked almost hesitantly, his stiff tone of voice gone.
"Well, when I programmed you I made sure you always had to have the OK from me but now I know you, I know you wouldn't hurt a fly. But why so all of a sudden?" The professor leaned against the marble counter. David was silent for a few moments.
"I... I don't like the color of my hair." David said staring at the professor who now had a confused face.
"Excuse me?" Charles asked crossing his arms over his chest.
"I don't like the color of my hair. And my eyes. And my clothes. And my name. And..."
"Ok ok, easy David, I get it, you don't like a lot of things." The professor seemed almost amused.
“It's just… I want to be myself, but I can't do that if everything has already been decided for me.” David looked at the floor and his black fabric covered slippers.
"All right." The professor nodded.
"Okay? Really?" David asked looking into the other's eyes.
"I guess it's fair that an individual wants to have particular characteristics for themselves so yes, I can reprogram you. We could start now, do you want to change something? You said you didn't like the name David." David thought about it for a few seconds.
"Erik." He said
"I want to be called Erik." He repeated with a hint of a smile.
“Great, Erik, tomorrow we can think about the more complicated aspects of your reprogramming.” The professor picked up his pen again and left the room.
"Thank you, Charles." Erik said almost in a whisper, a strange sensation he had never felt before blooming right where his generator was positioned in the center of his chest.
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hypocriticaltypwriter · 8 months
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The Lost Boys Musical Idea (Screenplay/Sneak Peek~!)
Here's a little sneak peek of the unofficial TLB Musical idea I'm working on! I just got the first scene of the movie done, and I hope it's good! But let me know what yall think and what might need to be edited or added! I'd love to hear your thoughts :] Enjoy~!!🩸🩸
🦇🦇🦇
The scene starts of with a narrator that’s off stage, speaking about Santa Carla and how it seems like a normal place, maybe a few places you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in or wander around alone, but with it’s infamous boardwalk, it does get a few tourists. But as he continues, he speaks of the dangers and that this town has a dark side behind the twinkling lights. As he continues to speak, and his voice grows more mysterious and malicious, we slowly begin to hear the chorus of ‘Cry little Sister’ play, sort of like the opening of the Lost Boys movie, a choir chanting ‘Thou Shall not fall, thou shall not die, thou shall not fear, thou shall not kill.'
(NEW SCENE)
While the choir sings, a set of the carnival ride would be setting up, and a few more things to give off the boardwalk opening. We’d start with a few folks talking and chatting, the main focus on a couple having indistinct chatter- but cutting through the silence would be laughter and shouting- The one and only LOST BOYS making their way onto the scene, stopping at a few crowds, and causing a little chaos as they push between the couple, making them stumble as the four unknown Vampires. The couple make some complain about the four always causing trouble for everyone on the boardwalk - probably making more complains that they don’t know that the Boys overhear.
MARKO or PAUL would say something about lighting up as DAVID would make some comment to The Boys about the people around here, not understanding that when the sun goes down, the town is theirs. That’s when the first song would begin (which is an official song by G Tom Mac, which you can find here on Spotify!) Sleep All Day, Party All Night.
As DAVID would sing (plus the other Boys singing backup) they’d go around the set dancing and singing whilst doing things to tease or bother the other tourists and passerby’s, before they finally go to the Merry-Go-Round, flirting with a girl who’s already taken as they continue to sing- causing a little comedy chase as the boyfriend stands up and tries to throw a punch at DAVID- who dodges before quickly running around the Merry-Go-Round set piece with the other Boys Tailing behind as the boyfriend chases them. They continue running in circles as the song would finish, swiftly being cut off as the Policeman steps in and stops DAVID with his baton around his neck.
He tells them the whole ‘I told you to stay off the board walk’ yadda yadda, and releases DAVID, who is anything but pleased. But they oblige, walking away as the three other Lost Boys grumble and groan in complaint, until DAVID turns back to look at the scene. He sings a small thirty second reprise of Sleep All Day, Party All Night’ at least to the same tune, slower and more sinister as he says something about this town not being able to see what’s coming to them. He then smiles evilly and fully exits the scene; the stage goes dark.
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i genuinely cannot stand the redacted discord or tumblr lol. discord is too much forced positivity and god forbid you make passing mentions about alcohol (😨😨😨) !!1!! like it's trying to make everyone happy so bad it's restricting so much. imperium and inversion were my favorite things ever but talking abt it in the discord is just exhausting because it's all sunshine and rainbows over there. imperium is too angsty. inversion is too scary. i want my sawft widdle boyfriend back. ugh. and you'll never find people criticising the redacted storylines there, heavens no!
but the tumblr has just been vile lately! can't handle hearing a bad person be called a bitch, can't ever decide whether they want the listeners to be fleshed out (for a more interesting story) or open ended (for a more inclusive story), it's ridiculous. expecting erik to write everything exactly how you envision in your head. also, people want lore and more interesting storylines but last i checked, those same people didn't talk about hush, or avior, or brachium, or the sovereigns. i wonder why?
i don't know. i was relatively popular on redacted tumblr a year or so ago and it was much better than this. i guess that's what happens when you have an audience mostly full of teens who think the spotlight's always on them lol
anyways, redacted youtube comments rule and that's as far as i interact with other people in this fandom. also david and angel ON TOP! yall complain david's a "cash cow" LMAO sorry babes he's just Him. the views speak for themselves
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gaytanic-panic · 5 months
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So months ago I bitched about how Zero Punctuation is sorta this forgotten relic of the same era as AVGN and the Nostalgia Critic that isnt as hated as the Critic but is not beloved like the AVGN. Like Yahtzee is still doing the videos regularly but it all feels very dated. Add on the fact that none of his reviews really work as reviews, because its really just 5 minutes of jokes and old school "whine about everything possible" nitpicking.
But anyway because me bitching about something is often the first step to me getting into it I've taken to the habit of having his reviews on in the background while I do other things. And apparently this has become the main way people consume his content, these big supercuts of his videos that you can also find from an official account on spotify. Its kinda crazy given how much of the appeal of these videos back in the day was the visual gags but whatever.
And idk now I have all these thoughts on this dude and his content that I want to vent somewhere so with that prologue out of the way here are some observations music, nostalgia, politics, loyalty
its very funny how out of place his generic metal theme music is. Real old school fans know he used to use real songs for his intros and outros but when youtube stopped being the wild west he moved on to this generic metal track made for him by the music guy at the company he works for. Thing is, that was normal for the late 00s, when generic sludgy metal adjacent rock was THE sound of rock radio and also white nerd guys stuff. But times have changed, and its funny to hear other new Escapist content use the sort of lo fi hip hop chill beats sound that's common now but Yahtzee's stuff still has this like Nickelback era bullshit going on.
He's one of the many people who are making a big stink now about how the 2000s were a golden age of gaming when all the best games came out and everything was great all the time. And like I already laugh at this kind of misplaced nostalgia but like Yahtzee you were there. I can pull up all his reviews from that time and hear him moaning about all the same shit people moan about now: too many sequels and licensed properties, the expense of modern game development killing creativity, EA and Ubisoft being terrible.
The trajectory of his politics is interesting to see over time. When he started, guys like him were more common bu also not as scary. Almost a decade before Gamergate there was not nearly as much suspicion around fedora wearing shouty white nerd men. In modern videos he has clarified sometimes that he doesn't still wear the fedora. And so early Yahtzee is very much in line with the politics of a 00s nerd boy: lots of slurs, vague distrust of women and minorities, but no firm politics behind it. That changed when after Gamergate the company he works for, The Escapist, took a decidedly right wing slant. Suddenly Yahtzee was doing streams with Ian Miles Cheong and complaining about "genderspecials" in his reviews. But then things changed again in the past couple years. Apparently the right wing guy who was steering the company was doing a bad job and left, with nobody including Yahtzee mourning the loss. So now you watch Zero Punctuation and he'll make mention that women do deserve to play video games and be main characters, and he'll talk about how JK Rowling is a transphobe before reviewing Hogwarts Legacy.
That all leads into my final observation which is that this dude has shown such a wild amount of loyalty to his parent company for approaching two decades. Like nowadays the minute the internet picks a funny white guy to love he leaves the internet content company to go solo: Brian David Gilbert, Griffin McElroy, etc. But Yahtzee has never left the Escapist, and because he's the one thing keeping the lights on there it means the Escapist is one of the longest running video game content farms out there.
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